Chapter 115: A Lone Venture into Qingliang Prefecture

Inside Prince Huai’s residence, a few outnumbered “rebels” finalized their plan and prepared to execute their coup, each setting off to carry out their respective tasks.

However, for the sake of caution, Ren Ye decided to keep Second Fool back.

This action warmed Second Fool’s heart. He felt that in this vast prince’s residence, where people constantly came and went, pledging allegiance one day and betraying the next, he alone had truly earned the prince’s trust.

Look, even in such a significant matter, His Highness wanted to speak to him privately.

This was true camaraderie.

After a brief mental drama, Second Fool clasped his hands and asked, “Your Highness, what would you like me to do?”

Ren Ye got straight to the point. “If I learn your blade techniques, can I adapt them for use with a sword?”

Second Fool nearly froze. “You mean… using swordplay but applying blade techniques?”

“Yes,” Ren Ye nodded.

“Perhaps some mediocre blade techniques could work, but what I practice is a swift blade style with a ‘selfless’ intent—it focuses on cultivating blade intent rather than technique. The techniques themselves are just the surface, the shell,”¹ Second Fool explained. “You likely won’t grasp the essence in a short time.”

Ren Ye blinked. “Then do you know any sword techniques? Something simple and powerful.”

Second Fool thought for a moment. “I did learn a sword style once, mostly as a pastime to calm my mind, but… I’ve been too dull to grasp its essence.”

“What sword technique?!”

“Dominating Heaven Sword Art.” Even Second Fool felt embarrassed saying the name, his face flushing slightly. “The old prince taught me this sword technique before he passed. It also follows the ‘selfless’ intent, which is why I only barely grasped it.”

“What happens if I master it?” Ren Ye asked, curling his toes in second-hand embarrassment.

“If… if you master it, then you’ll dominate the heavens, I suppose.” Second Fool blinked. “But honestly, the name of this technique is unbearably cringeworthy.”

“What if I don’t master it?” Ren Ye asked again.

“Then… when fighting an opponent, it’s best not to announce the technique’s name, or else they might cut your tongue off,” Second Fool answered earnestly.

“Alright, that settles it. No more hiding—I’m going for Dominating Heaven!” Ren Ye stood up. “Come on, show me the first move.”

“I’ve only scratched the surface of the first technique,” Second Fool cupped his hands. “Then… please excuse my lack of skill, Your Highness.”

Five minutes later, Ren Ye left satisfied, reminding Second Fool, “Reclaiming Qingliang Prefecture today is a matter of life and death. You and Li Yan must act flexibly. If you encounter trouble, handle it as you see fit.”

“Understood!” Second Fool’s blood boiled with excitement. He felt truly valued.

…

Two hours later.

Ren Ye, accompanied only by two eunuchs and four sedan bearers, entered Qingliang Prefecture.

To be honest, he had been inside this Star Gate for quite some time, yet this was his first time stepping into the city itself.

However, the reality of the prefectural city was far from the grand and prosperous image he had envisioned.

As a modern man, his understanding of ancient cities came from books, paintings, and various educational sources. In his mind, these ancient cities resembled the bustling scenes of Along the River During the Qingming Festival or the grandeur of 30,000 Miles from Chang’an.

Yet, in reality, ancient cities had sparse populations and were not particularly lively. Outside the bustling main street filled with shops, most areas were empty and carried an air of desolate antiquity.

Of course, this might also be due to the nature of the Great Qian Dynasty and Qingliang Prefecture itself. After all, in this world, wars had been frequent over the past century, making peace a rare commodity.

Passing through the city streets, the sedan finally arrived at the prefectural office.

A dozen guards immediately stepped forward, and one of them barked, “Who goes there?”

“You blind fool, can’t you see this is His Highness’s sedan?” The young eunuch accompanying Ren Ye raised his eyebrow. “Hurry and inform Prefect Feng Xing to come out and receive His Highness.”

“Greetings, Prince Huai!”

The soldiers, though somewhat arrogant, still knelt in salute.

Maintaining his regal composure, Ren Ye did not show his face, instead quietly calculating how to deal with his old adversary—Feng Xing.

In truth, he was quite familiar with this man. That old bastard had been quite active before. When Wang Jingzhong was forced to his death in the grand hall, Feng Xing had played a role. Later, at the battle before the Hall of Tranquility, he had also led a large group of officers to stir up trouble.

Li Yan was a fake imperial lackey, but this one was a true, die-hard imperial lackey.

…

Inside the Prefectural Office.

Feng Xing sat in the central hall, discussing countermeasures with the acting commander of the Qingzhou Guard. The man was around thirty-five or thirty-six years old, tall and imposing, exuding an aura of strength.

His name was Zhang Wu, recently promoted to the position of acting commander of the Qingzhou Guard.

Why was he only an “acting” commander?

Because the previous commander, Zhong Kuishan, had been slain on the spot by Second Fool in the battle at the Hall of Tranquility. With his armor shattered in a single strike, he fell where he stood. Zhang Wu was temporarily assigned to take over his duties, but removing the “acting” title would take some maneuvering—like shoving a considerable amount of silver in the right places…

“Secret Intelligence Division Chief Wu Asi has not returned, nor has the Qingzhou Guard’s Left Thousand-Household Commander…,” Feng Xing muttered, gripping his teacup with furrowed brows. “There’s no movement from little Prince Huai’s side either. Qingliang Prefecture is brimming with hidden threats.”

“Left Thousand-Household Commander Zhao Shen has sent me a message,” Zhang Wu replied with a heavy expression. “He and his wife have returned to the capital to meet with His Majesty and report on the matter of the princess’s tomb. He wrote that Prince Huai’s faction has passed the tomb’s trial and that the young prince… has likely fully awakened the Heavenly Pardon ENergy within him. This is a serious matter, as it determines whether one can enter the ninth level of the tomb. That’s why they’re heading to the capital to report in person.”

Feng Xing asked, “Who else is with them?”

“Apart from the two of them, there’s a horsekeeper and a scholar from the records office responsible for documentation,” Zhang Wu replied in a low voice. “These people… are likely His Majesty’s own men.”

“If we wait for an official decree from the court, that little Prince Huai may strike first,” Feng Xing stood up. “Instead of waiting for His Majesty’s orders, why don’t we act now and take control of him preemptively? That way, we won’t make any mistakes….”

“You mean mobilize troops to besiege the prince’s residence?” Zhang Wu asked.

Just as they were speaking, a steward came in to report:

“Sir Prefect… Prince Huai, Zhu Zigui, has arrived outside the prefectural office with four sedan chair bearers and two eunuch attendants. He requests your presence to receive him.”

“Hm?!”

Feng Xing had been planning to make the first move, but upon hearing that Zhu Zigui had come of his own accord, he was momentarily stunned. “He brought only these few people?”

“Yes.”

“Are there any guards or soldiers in the city or outside the office?”

“None. Our informants stationed outside the city reported as soon as he arrived—he truly came with only six people,” the steward confirmed.

“Hah, he really has no sense of self-preservation,” Feng Xing clasped his hands behind his back and thought for a moment before issuing instructions: “Go outside and tell that little Prince Huai that I am unwell and unable to greet him. Invite him inside for a discussion instead.”

“Understood!” The steward acknowledged and left.

“What is his purpose in coming here on his own?” Zhang Wu asked, puzzled as he stood up.

A sinister glint flashed across Feng Xing’s aged face. After a moment of deliberation, he replied, “I don’t need to know why he’s here. I only know that if he dares to walk into the prefectural office with just six men, then this is an opportunity granted by the heavens.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“We will imprison him right here.” Feng Xing pointed at the ground. “Gather our forces and secure the front and rear courtyards. The moment he steps inside, we make our move.”

Zhang Wu blinked and nodded firmly. “Alright, I’ll make the preparations immediately.”

Just as he was about to leave, Feng Xing suddenly stopped him.

“Wait!” A sudden thought struck Feng Xing, and he carefully laid out additional plans. “That brat has somehow acquired a sinister soul-gathering technique. During the battle at the Hall of Tranquility, even Old Daoist Xu’s Strength Corpse was slain by him. We must not underestimate him. Send someone to Lingyun Monastery at once and request aid from the Tianjian Division’s Daoists. They should have methods to counter such yin-yang sorcery. At the same time, immediately mobilize three hundred soldiers to ensure everything is foolproof.”

“Your foresight is indeed thorough.”

“Act with complete prudence and align with His Majesty’s will.” Feng Xing spoke with an air of detachment. “That is the way of an official.”

“Every word is a pearl of wisdom!” Zhang Wu cupped his hands in admiration and swiftly departed.

…

A short while later, Ren Ye, led by the steward, entered the central hall of the prefectural office.

Feng Xing sat upon his high-backed chair, looking full of energy, yet he clasped his hands together and said, “This humble official is weak and frail, suffering from constant exhaustion… Forgive me for being unable to bow in greeting, Your Highness.”

After speaking, he sipped his tea right in front of Ren Ye—there wasn’t a trace of illness about him.

There were spies in the prince’s residence, just as there were the emperor’s informants within the prefectural office.

For Feng Xing, today was merely a matter of breaking pretenses and engaging in verbal maneuvering. The key was to firmly establish his stance as the imperial court’s loyal hound.

“Well said, Lord Feng.” Ren Ye did not seem angered. He stepped forward and asked with concern, “Shall I have the palace physicians from the prince’s residence take a look at you?”

“Your Highness, mine is an ailment of the heart.”

“What sort of ailment?”

“Hah!” Feng Xing fixed Ren Ye with a cold smile. “The emperor’s concerns are the concerns of his subjects. What troubles His Majesty troubles all under heaven. If he wishes for a disobedient man to lie quietly in a cage, then naturally, I must find a way to ease His Majesty’s burden.”

Ren Ye, folding his fan in hand, casually took a seat beside him. “Lord Feng, the emperor is far away, and the mountains are high. I believe matters of Qingliang Prefecture should be settled within Qingliang Prefecture. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hahahaha!”

Feng Xing laughed heartily, his sharp gaze never leaving Ren Ye. Then, he abruptly asked, “How many times has Your Highness been to the capital?”

“I don’t quite remember, but not often.” Ren Ye showed no urgency; he actually wished to prolong this conversation.

Feng Xing watched him with interest and continued, “Has Your Highness ever attended a court assembly?”

“No,” Ren Ye shook his head.

“You have never set foot in the imperial court, so allow me to tell you a tale from within it.” Feng Xing folded his hands, looking down on Ren Ye with disdain. “His Majesty is a man of refined taste—talented in both the literary and martial arts—but he has certain peculiar interests that few know of.

I recall one day, a triumphant report came from the southern border: your father led from the front, repelling the enemy for over a hundred and twenty miles. He sustained two sword wounds, and his personal adjutant was killed in battle. Upon hearing this news, His Majesty was pleased and held a grand banquet, even allowing officials to bring their wives and daughters.

At that banquet, a vice minister of the Ministry of Rites attended with his wife and daughter. During the feast, His Majesty cast but a few extra glances at them. Now, can you guess what happened next?” Feng Xing smirked.

Hearing this, Ren Ye furrowed his brows, his mind racing with thoughts.

“That very night, the vice minister wrapped his wife and daughter in a twelve-foot-long quilt and personally delivered them to the palace, where he stood outside His Majesty’s chambers until dawn before taking them home.” Feng Xing’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “That story is still well-known. The entire court ridiculed him, calling him the greatest cuckold of the era—a man who sold his wife and daughter without a spine. And yet… the truly bitter part? That man is now the Minister of Rites, a second-rank official of the imperial court.

“Many strive their entire lives to climb from third rank to second rank and never succeed. But he? He did it in just one night.”

“Heh.” Ren Ye chuckled.

“What is power? What is imperial power? It is the right to reach out and take anything under heaven at will. That is imperial power.” Feng Xing pointed at Ren Ye, enunciating each word:

“Even when your father was alive, he was nothing more than a soldier shedding blood in battle, merely for the emperor’s amusement. Now that he is dead, what does that make you? A useless waste? A debauched prince?”

“If you were me, would you choose to speak with the one who wields imperial authority over all, or would you waste your breath on a worthless nobody? Even a fool would know the answer!” Feng Xing burst into laughter.

…

Secret Intelligence Division.

Vice Commander Ding Hui reached out to take a homing pigeon, untied the message, and scanned it with a frown.

“How is it, my lord? Any word from the commander?” A Hundred-Household officer stepped forward and asked.

Ding Hui’s face changed drastically. “Zhao Shen, the Left Thousand-Household of Qingzhou Guard, has sent word… Our commander is dead, killed within the tomb.”

That’s right—the commander of the Secret Intelligence Division, Wu Asi, had perished in the second trial of the tomb. He was No. 11.

“With no commander, what will happen to the division now?” The Hundred-Household officer grew anxious. “Do you have any…?”

Before he could finish, a single drop of pitch-black ink appeared in midair.

“Boom!”

Before Ding Hui could react, the drop of ink exploded abruptly, spreading outward like ripples of ink in water, transforming the surroundings into a scene from an ink painting.

“Swoosh!”

A figure landed within the courtyard.

He held a renowned blade in his arms and stood before Ding Hui and the Hundred-Household officer.

“Shing!”

Ding Hui instinctively took two steps back, reaching for his sword.

“I’ll give you one breath’s time to kneel. In my presence, you won’t even have the chance to draw your blade.” Second Fool’s voice was as cold as ice.

Just then, a voice rang out from outside the courtyard—Imperial Inspector Liu, shouting,

“Step aside! Let me be the one to make a scene here!”