Chapter 37: Stone Guanyin Steals the Treasure

Chapter 37: Stone Guanyin Steals the Treasure

Peng Yihu claimed their destination was the Kingdom of Kucha, but their journey ended at an oasis far short of the kingdom’s borders.

The oasis was vast—not just in size, but in its miraculous abundance of water. Li Chaofeng could sense it immediately. In this desert wasteland, where even a drop was precious, here was enough to bathe in. This single sanctuary could sustain life, yet it was merely a temporary refuge for the King of Kucha.

At the oasis’s heart lay a sprawling meadow, and at its center stood a colossal tent. Peng Yihu’s delivery of the treasure caravan proceeded without incident—too smoothly, in fact, for Li Chaofeng’s comfort. The fabled "Paradise Star", the legendary treasure fabricated by the King of Kucha, had reached its owner’s hands without a hitch.

Then again, perhaps it made sense. Stone Guanyin had never intended to steal the Paradise Star itself. Compared to seizing it, she wanted the king to reveal its secrets in desperation. If the king had lost the treasure while fleeing for his life, those secrets might vanish forever.

The king beamed as he gazed at the Paradise Star in Peng Yihu’s hands, his joy radiant enough to fool anyone unaware of the truth. The gem’s value paled next to the emerald adorning his crown.

Handling the treasure with care, the king nodded in satisfaction before placing it into an ornate casket. He gestured for a servant girl to carry it to the vault, then casually tossed Peng Yihu a ruby as a reward. His gaze shifted to the six men behind Peng.

The Peng family’s three sons and Ji Bingyan kept their heads bowed, projecting the humility of men unaccustomed to grandeur. Li Chaofeng, however, studied the surroundings with open curiosity. Hu Tiehua’s attention lingered on the foreign dancers, his eyes gleaming like a starved cat spotting a feast—utterly transfixed.

As for Chu Liuxiang, he had vanished ahead, splitting the group to scout the area. With Li Chaofeng’s foresight and the combined strength of Hu and Ji, his absence posed no risk.

The king raised an eyebrow. “These men…”

Peng Yihu interjected swiftly, “Bodyguards from our caravan—family brothers, inexperienced in desert travel. Forgive their rustic manners.”

Though the caravan had only five guards, expanding the number to seven raised no suspicion. The king chuckled and waved a hand, dismissing further inquiry.

Inside the tent, besides the king and his Kuchan attendants, five Han Chinese awaited. On the left sat the “Dragon-Soaring Sword” Wu Brothers and Situ Meteor, a lone bandit feared along the twin rivers. On the right lounged Du Huan, the ruthless assassin known as “Merciless Killer,” and Liu Biefei of Huashan, disguised as “Wang Chong.”

They were present when Peng Yihu delivered the treasure. The Wu Brothers and Du Huan exchanged uneasy glances. Hired by Kuchan rebels to hunt the king, they’d heard tales of the Paradise Star’s importance—but its theft troubled them less than the Peng clan’s presence.

Had Peng’s mission succeeded, the family should have departed. Yet the king, golden-bearded and insistent, pressed them to stay.

“I’ve always cherished fellowship with martial heroes,” the king declared. “The Peng family’s renown in the Jianghu is legendary. You’ve restored my treasure—pray, share my table.”

Servants brought wine and roasted lamb, and Peng Yihu reluctantly accepted, though Hu Tiehua had already sprawled onto a rug, his hand wandering a dancer’s waist. The soft, pliant feel of her curves drew a sigh of contentment from him.

Li Chaofeng, blocking his nose against the dancers’ pungent musk, sat beside Hu with a wry grimace. He’d forgotten how desert folk’s scent clung stubbornly—unlike the sanitized portrayals in tales of Kucha’s “Han-like” people. The king’s golden beard told the truth: these were foreigners, not Han kin.

With two seated, Peng Yihu’s refusal would seem rude. He bowed and joined them, followed by the others. Ji Bingyan, after a glance at Li’s carefree feasting, finally partook.

The king drank heartily, toasting Peng Yihu repeatedly, his gratitude effusive. But Du Huan’s voice cut through the revelry.

“Just hired guards—does the king truly honor them too highly?”

Peng’s eyes sharpened, unflinching. The Peng Five Tigers were all First-Tier Martial Artists. Had they not been poisoned, no bandit band could’ve slain even one. Twenty riders defeating four such masters? Even in Gu Long’s perilous world, such odds defied belief.

Du Huan’s hostility puzzled Peng—his family was no easy prey for Jianghu riffraff.

The king, oblivious, waxed poetic about the Paradise Star’s virtues. “Master Du misunderstands its worth! With it, I reclaim my throne—but its secrets are mine alone.”

Wu Qingtian seized the moment. “Then, Majesty, might we glimpse this treasure? To satisfy our humble curiosity?”

The Wu Brothers, though assassins, shared their employer’s fascination with the fabled gem.

Peng Yihu had guarded the treasure openly, yet the king’s earlier theatrics—clutching it like a child with a toy—had baffled him. Now, as Wu pressed, the king hesitated, then relented.

“My dearest friends! Peng, you delivered it—why not all admire its beauty?”

A clap summoned the casket back. The king opened it—and froze.

The Paradise Star was gone. Only a note remained:

“The ‘Paradise Star’ is now mine. To reclaim it, deliver 5,000 taels of gold, 500 pearls, and 50 jade discs. Journey west fifty li in three days’ time, where my envoy shall exchange the treasure for your ransom. Should the pearls lack luster, the jade bear flaws, or your intent falter, the ‘Paradise Star’ vanishes forever.”

No signature—only a painted image of the Thousand-Armed, Thousand-Eyed Guan Yin.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end