Chapter 1177: On the Path of Peace
Over by the Sword Boat, they finally received a definite message.
The capital simply relayed a single sentence, akin to an oral decree: "You may begin."
It seemed to be neither His Majesty’s imperial edict nor a military order from the capital’s Ministry of War following a court deliberation.
From Hezhou to Qiu State, then to within and beyond Qiu State’s capital—on mountains and plains, in the hallowed halls and the martial world, inside the mansions of powerful clans and the lowly streets—things began to stir.
Zhou Haijing asked in confusion, "Aside from activating all spies and death warriors within Hezhou to infiltrate and lie low in Qiu State, why are they also redeploying and dispatching so many accompanying military cultivators? Isn’t it overkill to use them? Yet they forbid them from interfering on their own, only to observe? If you ask me, just bring a couple of Jade Purity realm cultivators, a batch of Ministry of Justice earth immortal retainers, and a few Far Wandering and Peak realm martial artists. Make a few rounds visiting the key targets—probably wouldn’t even take half a day, and everything would be settled, neat and clean. Or simply send us twelve to take a trip to Qiu State, and there wouldn’t be any casualties."
Cao Gengxin smiled and countered, "If an immortal estate has immortals and Ascension realm cultivators guarding its Dao field, then what use are the lower-five-realm registered disciples?"
Zhou Haijing said, "Don’t beat around the bush. Speak plainly."
Cao Gengxin patiently explained, "First, this is a form of military exercise and deployment that isn’t openly acknowledged—a rather special method. But for the Great Li dynasty, which ceded half of Baoping Continent, it will be useful for the next several decades, even a hundred years. Great Li needs to verify the results first, identify gaps and oversights in every link, and soon conduct a purge of enemy spies. Second, it’s equivalent to an audit of Great Li’s Ministry of War and Ministry of Personnel. At the same time, it serves as a warning—killing the chicken to scare the monkeys, rattling the mountains to frighten the tigers—to keep the southern states in line. Third, it’s about reading people’s hearts: both Qiu State’s and Great Li’s own, as well as those south of the Great River."
Hence, Vice Minister Cao of the Ministry of Personnel came to monitor matters on the Sword Boat. Hezhou General Lu Song was displeased, feeling that Cao was a military overseer, and indeed he was—he could promote or demote officials on the spot. Lu Song’s guess was correct.
"Dao cultivation is about subtraction; governing a state is about addition."
"Dao cultivation treads the void, never touching the ground—it requires unwavering perseverance. Governing requires both sharpening the sword and giving the people rest."
Tongye Continent is a precedent. When the barbarian army pressed in and swarmed ashore, the land nations couldn’t muster their troops. Some dynasties managed to gather forces, but they weren’t battle-ready, far from elite—they fell apart at the slightest contact. The immortal estate sects that occupied famous mountains and Dao fields instantly became like isolated islands. The only exception was Taiping Mountain."
The Huangmei Immortal had come to this side at some point, wearing a rare smile, and corrected, "Vice Minister Cao, actually the Yugui Sect could also count. It’s just that too many great demons besieged the Yugui Sect, making the resistance at the foot of the mountain appear weak. If you carefully review the records, you’ll find that the dozen or so nations near the Yugui Sect’s territory fought very hard."
Cao Gengxin nodded. "I’ll have a chance to look into that."
As the sky began to turn fish-belly white, outside the Sword Boat, a young cultivator suddenly soared up from within Qiu State’s borders and began cursing the Great Li dynasty for its tyranny and perverse rule. He declared that he, so-and-so of such-and-such sect, would today demand justice from Great Li on behalf of Qiu State, even if he knew it was like an egg smashing against a rock and he would die on the spot…
His words were impassioned, his momentum soaring to the clouds.
Through the mirror-flower, water-moon images condensed from the rising mist in the hall, Han E recognized the man. Even living deep within the palace, he knew this person’s reputation—a highly talented young cultivator in Qiu State, apparently at the Viewing the Sea realm. He recalled that two years ago at some celebration, his elder brother Han Yun had walked arm-in-arm with this man?
A surge of pride rose in Han E’s heart. He hadn’t expected that a mountain Daoist, someone with the potential to form a golden core and become an earth immortal, could act so courageously.
Comparing his own choices to that, he felt he ultimately lacked that righteous vigor. The young prince lowered his head, silently ashamed.
From the Sword Boat, they directly unleashed a "flying sword" as thick as a spear shaft. The young cultivator activated a defensive treasure shaped like a white jade pagoda. With a bang like a thunderclap, that mountain gate’s ultimate treasure turned to powder on the spot, countless fragments scattering like snowflakes onto the mortal world.
With his natal object destroyed, blood flowed from the young man’s seven orifices. His figure tottered. The Sword Boat dispatched a Far Wandering realm martial artist—a Ministry of Justice retainer—and an accompanying military cultivator to expel the young cultivator. There was another exchange of words, then the Far Wandering martial artist said he would play with him a little. The latter struggled, life hanging by a thread, but refused to retreat. They fought one-on-one in an empty stretch of sky filled with dazzling radiance, a spectacular display.
Han E watched with burning blood, fists clenched, face flushed red. If not for being on the Sword Boat, he would have cheered several times for that young immortal who was like a pillar of Qiu State.
Zhao Yao rubbed his brow. Just a hundred or so words of script, and he couldn’t even memorize it properly. How did the Ministry of Justice in the secondary capital pick someone like this?
No choice. They still needed figures like this to "secretly" connect with the determined patriots within Qiu State, to painstakingly plan and restore the nation.
After all, they had to let those who styled themselves "remnants of a fallen nation" wander the martial world for a few years, until they finally found a few hidden strongholds or factions that were responsible, reputable, and possessed some strength.
Within the next three to five years, Qiu State would have both white-face and red-face performers in the court and the wilds. Some would receive posthumous titles and honors; others would exchange their actions for smooth promotion paths for their clan’s children; some were just doing it for money.
Han E finally noticed Vice Minister Zhao’s change in expression. A suspicion formed in his mind, and the boy was stunned, as if turned to stone.
Zhao Yao couldn’t be bothered to circle around with him. He said, "Qiu State’s court, literary world, and martial world will all have such unyielding leaders. For example, this one fighting for his life and death—before descending the mountain, he himself canceled his gold and jade registry, went to publicly die gallantly, but secretly received a low-grade unrestricted token from Great Li’s Ministry of Justice, two Taoist scripture manuals with pre-agreed prices, a sum of immortal money, a nominal but substantive Dao preacher, a guaranteed golden core within a hundred years—that’s just the baseline. Our Ministry of Justice will also arrange two additional identities for him."
Han E was stunned.
"Wipe off the tears all over your face. Later, when you take your elder brother Han Yun’s place and sit in that seat, you’ll definitely have the chance to truly see someone worthy of being called Qiu State’s conscience. Then you can silently grieve and weep—that won’t be too late."
Zhao Yao said calmly, "Let me be clear: the Ministry of Justice will record your every word and deed. They’ll be even more diligent than the imperial diarists. But don’t worry too much. As long as you don’t cross the line in your actions, we won’t care about your thoughts. When the day comes that you overstep, our Ministry of Justice will merely punish you according to the rules—same order, not too late."
Han E’s face turned wooden, his eyes vacant.
Hezhou Prefect Situ Xiguang had just received an intelligence report sent by the Northern Peak Mountain Lord of Qiu State. He handed it to Hezhou General Lu Song to browse, and said with a smile, "They’ve found the origins of the two assassins who tried to ambush the cavalry. One was a family death warrior raised by Qiu State’s chief counselor Zhuang Fan; the other was a death warrior who accompanied the Ministry of Rites’ Liu Wenjin into Qiu State."
The two assassins—one had even painstakingly set up a formation on a secluded stretch of the official road—were both dealt with by accompanying military cultivators directly deployed by Great Li’s Ministry of Justice. On this Sword Boat alone, they had watched the entire process of how the death warrior, who was both an array master and a talisman cultivator, laid his formation. As a result, several powerful military officers wondered if they could recruit him.
But without Zhao Yao’s nod, the assassin’s fate was sealed.
Intercept and kill a wave of Great Li cavalry first, trying to claim the first victory?
The chief counselor’s idea was simple, but if it succeeded, it would have had a remarkable effect.
These civil officials, led by Zhuang Fan, feared that there would be no fighting or dying at the border. Otherwise, they couldn’t stir up popular indignation within the country.
If Great Li’s two cavalry forces arrived at the border passes and counties as if entering uninhabited territory, and directly rode to the capital, how could they bargain with the Great Li barbarians on horseback and the Hezhou military officers who killed as casually as drinking water and eating?
A short, wiry general with a nickname stood in the back, finding it utterly absurd. He muttered, "Is that bastard Zhuang Fan an idiot? How did he become Qiu State’s chief counselor?"
A military officer standing in front who knew him well turned and joked, "Same way as you—by family connections."
Zhao Yao said to the young prince beside him, "I heard this chief counselor has been well-read in military texts since childhood. Before succeeding his father as chief counselor, he was in charge of the Ministry of War for twenty years. For the last decade, together with the Ministry of Rites’ Liu Wenjin, who is skilled in swordsmanship, he has been relied upon by the Queen Dowager Dou Mi as her left and right arms. They are known as the ‘dual jades of civil and military,’ no less than Great Li’s ministers of restoration like Cao and Yuan? It’s also said that if Qiu State hadn’t been at a geographical disadvantage and had been south of the Great River, with its civil and military officials’ talent base, it could have risen in thirty years into a colossus like the old Zhuying or Baishuang. After another fifty or sixty years of lying low, it could have gone toe to toe with the Great Li dynasty."
Han E felt as if his gall bladder were about to split.
In the past, hearing these arguments had thrilled the young prince. Now, hearing them again, why did they sound so jarring?
Zhao Yao smiled. "In the early years, before breaking away from the Lu clan’s suzerainty, how many literati of our court cursed National Teacher Cui for his militarism, saying he would soon ruin the nation. A few immortal forces like the Spring Length Palace that attached themselves to Great Li, and a few imperial merchants directly managed by the National Teacher’s Office, lost money in businesses within small states that were also vassals. Then they cursed the Song court for being like a god of wealth, cursed the emperor for being fatuous, and cursed the officials of the Ministry of Revenue for being rice sacks and wine bags—they would rather be dogs for Cui Can than consider the nation’s livelihood."
Zhao Yao said, "Of course, winners are kings and losers are bandits. If Great Li had lost to its suzerain, the Lu dynasty, back then, or later to the barbarian tribes, they wouldn’t have been wrong to curse."
Han E said sorrowfully, "So everything written in the books is all fabricated."
Zhao Yao couldn’t help but smile. "Don’t read yourself into a corner, and you won’t have read in vain."
In the corner of the hall.
Zhou Haijing squinted at the talisman armor of the Hezhou deputy general. It was precisely these finely crafted, high-priced mountain-made items that made wars south of Baoping Continent now much more costly. In the past, various states employed immortal cultivators, seeking master teachers willing to come down the mountain for enough money. The prices had multiplied several times, and many lower-five-realm Qi refiners simply didn’t dare to go to the battlefield to court trouble. They feared those cold-shot immortal devices that would hit their bodies; the immortal money deposit they had just received and hadn’t even warmed in their hands would become compensation.
Zhou Haijing had seen it all in her early years of training in the martial world. She once witnessed a Cave Abode realm old immortal—taking money to eliminate troubles for others—riding clouds and mist far from the ground battlefield. He chanted immortal formulas and muttered Daoist incantations, leisurely performing a talisman technique like scattering beans into soldiers. While he was smug, a bolt from an enemy state’s stockpile of Mohist bed crossbow suddenly shot through the air, cutting his body in two. A blossom of blood burst open; his two severed halves and entrails clattered to the ground.
If a Cave Abode realm cultivator was like that, then the lower-five-realm registered disciples on the battlefield were even more out of their depth. They could no longer ride out in the morning, show off a few immortal arts, hold a victory feast by noon, and return to their Dao field to count money by evening. For a few immortal coins, it wasn’t worth risking their lives. They might as well cultivate quietly in the mountains. Their sects received a stable annual tribute and salary from the mortal world. During festivals, they would visit the capital to write talismans for the high officials and nobles to pray for blessings and ward off disasters, and send a few bottles of immortal pills that wouldn’t kill anyone—no need to fight and kill, harming the harmony of Heaven, and they could earn a bit of karmic goodwill and incense friendship. Much safer.
Then there were the rogue cultivators among the mountains and wilds, who were truly willing to take jobs. But they might take money from both sides, pocket two deposits and then run away, set up traps and various schemes, boast about their teacher lineage and sect tradition until the sky fell, claim that with a few thousand enemy troops, a puff of breath would turn them to ash—impossible, of course. They’d say, ‘I am by no means boastful. If I were to retreat in battle, relying on my sect’s secret arts and unleashing a few heavy attack treasures, I could kill a few hundred in an instant—child’s play…’ Some would even turn their coats on the battlefield, or carry an enemy general’s head to the opposing camp for a reward in the dead of night.
The registered immortals on the mountains were all shrewd; the rogue cultivators in the wilds were all cunning. And those down the mountain weren’t fools, either. After being cheated once or twice, they started looking for alternatives—for example, buying more standardized immortal devices from the Great Li dynasty. But at this critical moment, the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue had begun discussing a "buyback" plan.
Unexpectedly, the tone changed recently. They stopped talking about any "buybacks" at any price, and instead looked ready to directly send relevant officials to various states’ treasuries to inventory, inspect, and retrieve the items.
Those states had no choice but to repeatedly negotiate with Great Li officials. The reply was always the same: "Great Li merely permitted you to restore and establish your states. From start to finish, all contracts, handovers, and seals are clear. We haven’t made things difficult for you in any way. We even lent you all kinds of mountain-moving spirits and hundreds of talisman-powered laborers for free to dig rivers and stabilize territories. But those weapons and armor—the Ministry of War and Ministry of Revenue in Great Li’s secondary capital have them all recorded clearly. You are merely acting as custodians. When did we say they were gifts?"
These courts were both aggrieved and uneasy.
In the martial world, everyone dreamed of owning a divine weapon that could cut through iron like mud.
In the past, it was only possible in dreams. Now, as long as you had money, you could grease the wheels with various state authorities or meritorious military officers, negotiate a price, and they would carry out immortal weapons one by one. The buyers, ambitious, would hand over money and take the goods. With a divine weapon in hand, they wanted to stir up bloody storms in the martial world. Then they would meet their old enemies in a vendetta, eyes red with hate. But as they fought, something felt off: "I have one… Hey, you have one too?"
In those years, how many southern noble scions suddenly became fabulously wealthy through this channel? Playing with women? What were courtesan beauties? They now only slept with an immortal maiden from the mountain.
History is probably always like this—muddled and murky. Batch after batch of people change, new faces, similar titles, always the same methods.
Cao Gengxin faced the wall, secretly took a sip of wine, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shook the purple gourd, and said, "I remember National Teacher Cui once made a conclusion. Roughly: ‘If Confucians disrupt the law with their writings, and martial artists defy prohibition with their violence, then the mountain folk use immortal law to intimidate the world below, pulling the strings of the human realm. Those who cultivate the Dao—they not only look down on princes and nobles, they ignore the law entirely.’ The relationship between the Great Li dynasty and the mountain world—now and in the future—will always be one of both friend and foe."
Cao Gengxin smiled. "Miss Zhou, you’ve never really been in officialdom, and you haven’t read much history. You’re not too clear about the drawbacks of literati using family connections and pure discourse to control the court for long periods, especially the power of clerks and scribes becoming ‘hereditary families’ at the bottom of the bureaucracy. This isn’t something a few Upper Five Realm cultivators, or even Ascension realm cultivators, can manage in the human world. Of course, not fighting is best—no killing, fewer deaths. But you also need to pay attention to the world outside of fighting. What you fear most is the killing of hearts and minds invisibly. The stagnation within officialdom, the continuity of people’s hearts outside the government—these must not be ignored, must be managed, but also must not be managed blindly, excessively, or chaotically."
Zhou Haijing found this kind of bureaucrat-speak utterly tedious and usually let it go in one ear and out the other.
She was observing the spirited female Great Li military officer. Huangmei Immortal was also sizing up the martial arts master who had made a name for herself in the Great Li capital.
Cao Gengxin muttered to himself, "Qiu State’s border troops—all bluster and no substance, only a few tens of thousands of soldiers. Most are young men who have never cut anyone or been cut themselves. But the Great Li dynasty, occupying half of Baoping Continent—every single day, how many common people’s joys and sorrows are born and buried? In this moment we chat, in the bustling towns and rural coasts, how many disappointments, even despairs? Or how many are carrying hope, with small expectations for tomorrow?"
Zhou Haijing was taken aback.
The martial arts master, a fisherman by origin, was probably pricked in her heart by the word "coast."
"Every day, we take silent beatings, and still feel that nothing concerns us. Looks like we really can endure hardship."
Cao Gengxin said with a grin, "The realm that National Teacher Cui and Great Li’s iron cavalry fought so hard to build—is it something a few Ascension realm cultivators and Stopping realm martial artists can defend?"
Zhou Haijing clicked her tongue. "You scholars can curse people without using a single dirty word."
Cao Gengxin sighed and retorted, "Didn’t I say ‘we’?"
Huangmei Immortal smiled knowingly.
Cao Gengxin suddenly asked, "Deputy General Huang, Miss Zhou, who is Great Li’s true enemy?"
Zhou Haijing asked, "All the southern states on Baoping Continent?"
Did they have to give back territory, only to take it again?
Huangmei Immortal said, "The immortal masters of the whole continent, who have long held grudges and finally turned hostile?"
Cao Gengxin shook his head. "Only Great Li itself."
Huangmei Immortal seemed thoughtful.
Cao Gengxin smiled. "That question wasn’t first asked by me, and the answer wasn’t spoken by me either."
Vice Minister Zhao Yao of the Ministry of Justice had been keeping an eye on the activities in the corner.
This Cao Gengxin—the questions from the National Teacher’s Office had been leaked, and even the answers were given.
It seemed that Inspector Cao was quite impressed with Huangmei Immortal, the Hezhou deputy general?
Zhao Yao came over and said with a smile, "In a world, gathering the strength of the world to forge a handful of Fourteen Realm cultivators—the barbarian tribes had such a plan early on. Unfortunately, it never came to pass. Otherwise, it would have been a good reference."
Han E, the least favored young prince on the ship, had adopted a principle: wherever Vice Minister Zhao went, he would follow.
Zhao Yao called out an official’s name and reported a number. That young Great Li Ministry of Justice official immediately fetched an intelligence report, which had some connection to the princely mansion of Qiu State’s Han E.
Zhao Yao handed the intelligence to Han E. After reading it, Han E’s face turned cyan, his lips trembled, and he wanted to curse but couldn’t get the words out.
It seemed that all the dirty and harsh words taught in books were too weak to express the young man’s inner anger and resentment.
Zhao Yao said, "Originally, according to my personal thoughts or the consistent style of the Ministry of Justice, the maidservant who grew up with you in the princely mansion—the one you were childhood sweethearts with—would have been seriously injured last night and died beyond treatment. Then she would have been casually wrapped in cloth and thrown back to the mansion, for you to return to the capital and collect her body. But our ministry doesn’t dare to do that now. Instead, we had someone give her a bottle of the mountain’s secret gold trauma ointment."
Han E raised his head, staring fixedly at this powerful Great Li Vice Minister of Justice.
Your Great Li Ministry of Justice’s secret agents—how can they be so poisonous?!
Zhao Yao’s eyes showed pity. "You hate me and the Ministry of Justice more? Not exactly, is it? Wasn’t Han Yun the one who almost whipped her to death?"
He reached out and slapped the young man’s face heavily, one after another, leaving red palm prints that instantly swelled on the prince’s cheek. "Being stupid is one thing. Do you have any shame? Han E, if you’re afraid, be afraid deep in your bones. Don’t show the hate on your face."
Han E was dazed by the flurry of slaps, seeing stars, his head spinning. Zhao Yao’s last slap sent the young boy sprawling to the ground.
Vice Minister Cao immediately hopped sideways to avoid him, dropping a line in the capital dialect: "Trying to frame me, huh?"
On the Sword Boat, besides Prefect Situ Xiguang, Hezhou General Lu Song, and Hezhou Deputy General Huangmei Immortal, there was also a batch of prefecture and county officials.
Also aboard to fill numbers but completely unable to chime in were the province’s Education Commissioner and Daoist Affairs Investigator—one a clean but idle post, the other low in rank.
At Qiu State’s morning court today, attendance was sparse. The hall was half-empty compared to usual. Some had reported illness; some didn’t even bother with an excuse.
The text of the Great Li state letter was clear: a list of nearly four hundred individuals—from Qiu State’s Queen Dowager Dou Mi and Emperor Han Yun, down to literary figures who lectured and formed societies, stirring tongues and inciting hearts under the guise of elegant gatherings—were all to be regarded as rebels and traitors equivalent to raising troops and provoking border conflicts. Great Li’s border forces gave a two-day deadline to disassociate from these figures.
As for what "will surely be severely punished" meant if not complied with—the specific consequences—the state letter didn’t elaborate. State letters, after all, are the most official of official documents.
Unlike the Great Li dynasty’s daily court sessions, Qiu State held only three morning courts per month, requiring attendance by officials of the fifth rank and above in the capital.
The young emperor Han Yun sat on the dragon throne. In earlier years, there had been a yellow cushion at his feet, but that had been removed.
Behind the imperial seat was a raised platform, with a curtain hung with strings of precious beads. Behind it sat the young Queen Dowager, poised with infinite grace.
Han Yun’s eyes were drowsy; he almost yawned. He lowered his head slightly, raised a fist to cover his mouth, lifted his eyelids, and swept a glance.
On the hall floor stood six department directors from various ministries. They were regulars at court sessions, because they were officials placed here by the Great Li dynasty.
They were: the Ministry of Rites’ Sacrificial Affairs Department, the Ministry of War’s Military Selection Department, the Ministry of Personnel’s Merit Assessment Department, the Ministry of Works’ Water Department, the Ministry of Revenue’s Canal and Transport, and the Ministry of Justice’s Sentence Reduction Department.
Most were young, around thirty years old. Although they attended Qiu State’s court sessions, they almost never spoke. Year after year, they stood like wooden figures on the golden bricks. They had various personalities, but when they returned to their offices to work, they had fewer taboos and restrictions. They socialized with colleagues, and besides the Great Li official language that had become a continental standard, they could also speak the old Qiu State official tongue fluently.
As the suzerain state, Great Li’s capital and secondary capital each year "expatriated" a batch of young officials to various vassal states’ government offices for training and familiarization with administrative affairs. The term was three to five years, after which they would return to Great Li’s bureaucracy.
Han Yun had always had an impulse: if he had a few of them dragged out and executed, wouldn’t Liu Wenjin and Han E’s heads just end up in the Great Li capital?
Chief Counselor Zhuang Fan—his family had held official posts for generations, inheriting positions from father to son for several generations.
He was a great poet, a calligrapher, and a discerning bibliophile.
At this moment, the chief counselor was waging war with his mouth in front of those directors, explaining how Qiu State should first fight at the border, then in a certain commandery, then in the barren heartland of the capital region, and finally in the streets within the capital and outside the palace… step by step, with clear logic.
But this court session was slightly different from usual. Before, the hall would have had steady, firm cheers of approval rising and falling, or officials whose faces were so red—even trembling—to coordinate with the chief counselor, like a poetic antiphony.
Today, the hall was rather desolate.
Grand General Dou Man, the undisputed leader of the maternal relatives, the Queen Dowager’s younger brother, had a face like polished jade and a slender build. After the war on Baoping Continent ended, he had been busy leading mountain-hunting operations within Qiu State. Wearing armor personally, he led troops to capture many remnants of the barbarian tribes hiding in the wilderness. Their heads were hung above the city gates of major prefectures, greatly satisfying the public.
Then there was the State Protector True Man, Fu Xian, with the Daoist name "Ling Pei." He wore a green ritual robe instead of court robes. His water magic was masterful.
Fu Xian was the current head of Qiu State’s largest immortal sect. The sect also had an Infant Soul ancestor who had been in secluded cultivation for many years. It was said that during the battle at the secondary capital, when immortal masters’ lives were as cheap as grass, he had been severely injured. In the battles along the Great River, he had accomplished great deeds. In his final battle, he fought an Upper Five Realm great demon until the sky went dark and the earth dimmed, nearly both perishing together.
Behind the curtain, the young Queen Dowager Dou Mi sat languidly, her cheek resting on her hand.
An aged, decrepit teaching matron and a tall, slender sword-bearing palace maid stood at the foot of the steps.
Dou Mi had the matron lower the jade hook and then lower another curtain to block the view. Her Liu Lang was not around, and those old fellows were truly repulsive—nothing but filth, nothing worth seeing.
Thinking of her Liu Lang, her eyes, originally bewitching like a fox’s, became even more watery.
The young Queen Dowager shifted her body, stretched out her leg, pointed her toe, and moved it forward toward the sword-bearing maid—who was both her personal guard and her confidante. She lifted the maid’s skirt and gently brushed her toe between her legs, then slowly moved upward.
Seeing the maid’s back trembling slightly, the Queen Dowager inwardly chuckled: "Pretending to be proper, you little slut. Let’s see how long you can hold out."
The old crone turned her head slightly, staring toward the curtain. On the grand hall, Qiu State’s civil and military officials gathered.
At that moment.
Likewise looking forward, the maid slightly relaxed her arm. The long sword she carried slid toward the ground. She grabbed the hilt, letting the scabbard fall, and smoothly drew the sword. With one stroke, she decapitated the teaching matron on the spot.
The old woman was also a cultivator of no small Dao power. She abandoned her physical form, activated a secret technique, and transformed into a billowing cloud of black smoke, intending to envelop the treacherous servant who dared to rebel against her master and flay her alive. The maid twisted her wrist, and the talisman sword in her hand instantly burst into sword light, raising hundreds of golden threads that easily shredded the rolling black smoke mixed with curses. Where the smoke touched the light, there was a hissing sound, and it fell as a puddle of foul, stinking pus and blood.
From drawing the sword and killing to breaking the technique, it was but a blink of an eye. With another horizontal sweep, she cut off the young Queen Dowager’s head. The maid sheathed her sword, stepped up onto the platform, reached out, and grabbed the woman’s hair. The young Queen Dowager’s cheeks were still flushed, her eyes languid.
Carrying the head in her hand, using the sword tip to lift two layers of curtains, she slowly walked toward the imperial throne and tossed the head into the young emperor’s lap.
Han Yun instinctively reached out and caught the object. He lowered his head and met its eyes. The young emperor was stunned for a moment, then threw the head forward and fainted from fright.
She took an unrestricted retainer token of Great Li from her sleeve, hung it at her waist, planted both hands on her sword, and said calmly, "The treacherous woman Dou Mi has been executed."
With a loud crash, the hall doors were suddenly closed.
A young vice minister, a native of Qiu State, took a sheet of paper from his sleeve, shook it out, and began to "call the roll."
"Those whose names are called—their heads must stay; their bodies may leave."
On a high mountain wreathed in immortal mist, inside a Patriarch’s cave dwelling at the summit, the Infant Soul ancestor dismissed the immortal maids and beauties for the moment. He knelt alone on the ground, his voice trembling: "I am willing to obey the commands of the superior state’s immortals. I will immediately purge the sect."
A handyman disciple took a list from his sleeve and threw it to the ground. "You have one incense stick’s time to clean them all up."
The old cultivator, who was announced as Infant Soul realm but was actually at the Golden Core bottleneck, quickly shuffled forward on his knees, grabbed the paper, and saw several names that made his heart leap. Reluctant beyond measure, the old immortal’s face twisted, his expression shifting.
The handyman disciple, who had entered the mountain years ago and remained unknown, said, "I’m only at the Cave Abode realm. Feel free to kill me."
The old cultivator stood up, stuffed the list into his mouth, and chewed it up. "I wouldn’t dare entertain such a thought. I will go and kill them right away."
Not far away, ripples appeared, and a round-faced girl in Daoist robes came into view, hovering on a flying sword. She praised, "Your realm isn’t high, but you do have some skill in avoiding disaster."
The Patriarch cultivator glanced sideways. This female sword immortal of unknown origin seemed to be wearing the robes of the Shengao Sect?
Before attending the morning court, a principal official was eating a mountain diet based on an immortal formula. Halfway through, he began bleeding from all seven orifices.
A carriage heading to court drove into a dead-end alley. The curtain was lifted, and a frowning voice asked why they hadn’t arrived yet.
In the capital’s most popular pleasure house, the courtesan curled up in a corner, drenched in tears, wrapped in a brocade quilt embroidered with golden mandarin ducks. On the bed lay an official with blood oozing from his forehead; the hole in his chest had been made with a dagger as a finishing touch. The assassin, too lazy to wear a mask, was a young man she vaguely remembered as a "teapot carrier" waiter here, the lowest of the low in the brothel. At this moment, he smiled, raised a finger to his lips, and shook his head gently, signaling her not to make a sound.
She had never seen such a bloody scene, though she had heard some storytellers’ tales. If she accidentally saw a villain’s face, she would be silenced. The tear-streaked courtesan’s hands trembled as she pulled down the quilt, revealing scenery that also trembled.
The assassin felt deeply helpless and waved his hand.
In that instant, a streak of bright light shot toward the man’s neck. He was horrified and couldn’t dodge. He had silently taken out three high-ranking Qiu State officials who had come here together for a carouse. The first two, even the five or six women sleeping together under the same quilt, hadn’t noticed a thing—until this room… He really shouldn’t have let his guard down.
A sharp sword light directly broke through the window, shattered the hidden weapon, and killed the woman who had been about to lunge forward. The courtesan’s body went limp on the bed. The surviving assassin swiftly turned and, through the gap in the window, saw a man with a clean, elegant face walking straight ahead in the corridor outside the door. The man said via secret transmission: "My name is Su Lang. I’m in the same line. Handle the cleanup here. Be more careful in the future."
As the sky was just beginning to brighten, in the courtyard of a mansion, a middle-aged Ministry of War official in court robes walked along the corridor, lost in thought. A thin maidservant had long since stopped and stepped aside. When they drew close, she called out timidly, "Master." The official nodded. As they were about to pass each other, a dagger slid from her sleeve. She plunged it into the official’s chest, pulled it out and stabbed again, then slashed his neck. She wiped the blood on the shoulder of his official robe, sheathed the dagger in her sleeve, and continued walking unhurriedly until she finally left through a side gate.
In a study, an old man who had resigned from office years ago looked up at a middle-aged man with an unfamiliar face who gently opened and closed the door. The old man showed no fear or anger, only a gentle demeanor. He smiled and asked, "From over there?"
The old man was a well-known bureaucratic slick in Qiu State, with a mixed official reputation. But his tough stance toward the suzerain Great Li dynasty and his desire for Qiu State to break free from vassal status had never changed. He sought neither fame nor wealth, nor for his descendants to gain riches. The old man sighed. He had clearly ordered that security be strengthened, yet it was still as if nothing existed. The man just nodded, not speaking.
The old scholar said, "Mm. Besides me?"
The man said stiffly, "They are not on the list."
The old scholar said nothing more, just looked at the man, probably fearing that even with a dead man, the assassin wouldn’t tell the truth.
The man said, "The Ministry of Justice did not order a sweeping purge. I dare not disobey in the slightest."
He appeared face-paralyzed, but after a moment’s hesitation, he squeezed out something that might have been a smile. "I have carefully read your works. Aside from your attacks on Great Li’s governance, everything else is very well written."
The old man looked surprised. After a silence, he smiled. "I’m old, and I still fear pain. Could you kill me some other way, not with a blade? For example, poison?"
When the man shook his head, the old man wanted to sigh a few words of regret, but felt a sudden pain and was dead.
A thin, gaunt-looking vice minister of the Ministry of Rites, famous in court and the wilds for his moral backbone, was known as Qiu State’s literary courage. Before Qiu State became a vassal of Great Li, he had spared no effort in denouncing the Great Li barbarians, using the sharpest and most ruthless rhetoric. After the vassalage, he retired to nurse his health for a few years. In recent years, he had returned to office, invited personally by the young Queen Dowager through the chief counselor. Now, tears and snot covered his beard as he choked out to the assassin standing in his bedchamber, "This brave man, to tell you the truth, I was originally from Yizhou in Great Li. I moved here with my family when I was young. I was just possessed by a demon to talk nonsense. In my heart of hearts, I earnestly hope that the Great Li dynasty will long flourish—that is my ancestral homeland…"
The assassin nodded. "The secret archives record that. I’ve read it many times."
The last words the old vice minister heard before death were, "I am also from Yizhou."
On an immortal ferryboat leaving the capital, two accompanying cultivator escorts, each severely injured, sat facing each other against the wall. One family retainer working for a duke squinted. The other, a Great Li death warrior acting according to the list, sat on the ground, his hand clutching his neck. The first one said with a sinister smile, "Oh, a fellow professional? I really couldn’t tell before. You were so slick-tongued in daily dealings. You sure strike hard, boy—you twisted the head off the grand duke himself."
As he spoke, he covered his mouth, blood seeping through his fingers. He said bitterly, "I didn’t stop you from suddenly killing him, nor did I stop you from leaving. So why did you swap lives with me?"
The Great Li death warrior said, "Because you were on the second list."
A spear crashed through the wall and through the skull, killing the foreign spy on the spot. Someone outside the wall said via heart voice: "After simple bandaging, can you get up and leave?"
The man nodded. "I can."
All over Qiu State—the Queen Dowager and emperor, civil and military officials, powerful clans, registered cultivators, veteran martial artists—everyone on the list, more than three hundred, died one by one. Apart from those on the list, the dozen or so military officers leading troops in Qiu State’s border army died, but not a single soldier was killed. Even less ordinary people along the road from the border to the capital. In the county offices, the sound of civil court sessions; in the academies, the sound of reading; in the fields, the bustle of farming; the temple fairs beginning to get lively—all remained unchanged.
The Yellow Sparrow wind blew through the mountains.
A convoy secretly leaving the capital for a secluded commandery was thrown into chaos—men and horses overturned. Assassins struck and disappeared into the morning mist.
In the faint light of early morning, a Daoist figure like a lone crane slowly flew across the great river.
Since the capital was no place to stay, he would find a desolate wilderness to lie low.
Just as he thought he had succeeded, an unsuspected sword light rose from the reeds on the bank and cut him down.
The common folk of Qiu State’s capital only knew that today’s court session, though sparsely attended, still took place. However, Emperor Han Yun had abdicated to his younger brother Han E. It was said that the Queen Dowager Dou Mi herself had issued the imperial decree, probably because she thought Prince Han E had more talent and strategy. It was also said that in the Golden Throne Hall, the chief counselor had begged to resign, and the newly ascended sovereign had approved. The State Protector True Man, the old Master Fu, seemed to be returning to his mountain Dao field for seclusion. The troops at the border had also withdrawn on imperial orders. The merchants and peddlers who did business with morning court officials on the Imperial Way, and those waiting at the city gates for the lifting of the curfew to set up small stalls, were also packing up. Within and outside the capital, overnight, many new storytellers had appeared—under the Heavenly Bridge, inside taverns, at market temple fairs—ready to begin new tales.
Thus, the day dawned.
On the peaceful official road, walking on and on, leaving the capital region, hearing all kinds of vivid news picked up by hearsay, a young woman who was about to leave her homeland complained to the young man beside her, "Qiu State hasn’t fallen into chaos."
(End of Chapter)