Chapter 107: The Meaning of My Departure (Part 1)
Time marched on relentlessly. The two officials from the Ministry of Justice in the carriage grew even paler, and without lingering any longer, they left Hundred Flowers Lane.
Starlight shone upon Zhou Prison, upon the crabapple tree, upon the bright red official robe draped over Zhou Tong, like hell, like a fairyland, like a sea of blood.
Listening to his subordinate’s report, his face showed no change in expression, as if he were a dead man.
Within the National Academy, there was the Sword Formation of the Southern Stream Sect; outside, there were the National Education cavalry. The Palace of Departure appeared to have done nothing, but in truth, it had long been prepared—Mao Qiuyu had been staying in that inn on Hundred Flowers Lane all along, his sleeves empty of worldly goods, yet bearing a divine artifact. Inside the National Academy were also eighteen Red Robe Cardinals, and hidden in the night were some strong figures Merisa had left behind in advance.
Zhou Tong had used the lives of over a dozen elite assassins to confirm these facts.
With such a formation, even if Her Holiness the Saint Empress truly mobilized the Imperial Guard, it would not necessarily be enough to kill Chen Changsheng—unless she acted personally and completed the deed in the shortest possible time; otherwise, His Holiness the Pope would surely appear. He had never truly expected to kill Chen Changsheng tonight; this was merely a probe. The conclusion was: it couldn’t be done. He had to find another way.
In a certain manor on the outskirts of the capital, some people were also discussing the same matter.
“It won’t work. Trying to break into the National Academy without drawing attention is too difficult.”
“After all these years, the clan has spent so much money—has it all been fed to the dogs?”
“If it were other matters, they could probably be handled, but this is no small thing.”
“First, you need to tell me exactly how many people we have inside the National Academy.”
“We do have informants inside the National Academy, and also within the National Education cavalry. We can even find friends within the Palace of Departure willing to help us. But Xu Yourong’s response is simple yet highly effective—as long as the Sword Formation of the Southern Stream Sect exists, we can’t get near the small building.”
“I refuse to believe that a sword formation made up of a bunch of young girls can stop us.”
Watching the excited expression of that younger relative, Tianhai Chengwu frowned slightly and raised his right hand to halt the debate in the hall. “Are you surnamed Zhou, or Wang, or Su?”
Zhou was Zhou Dufu, Wang was Wang Zhice, and Su was Su Li.
In the past thousand years, only these three had ever breached the Holy Maiden Peak and broken the Sword Formation of the Southern Stream Sect. Yet even they had spent a great deal of time and effort to do so.
Who in the Tianhai family now could compare to these three legendary figures? And who could be confident of breaking the Southern Stream Sect’s Sword Formation and entering the small building to kill Chen Changsheng before the Pope revealed his divine presence?
Hearing this, that younger relative had nothing to say. His face flushed red, and he lowered his head.
Tianhai Chengwu glanced at his son, who had remained silent throughout, and then said coldly to his clansmen, “The Holy Maiden is clever, and her art of deduction is unmatched in the world. How could she leave any loopholes?”
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“The National Education will naturally protect Chen Changsheng. The Holy Maiden believes that with her added willingness to protect him, Her Holiness the Saint Empress might show some restraint—at least she won’t act personally. So Chen Changsheng is safe. But she has forgotten one thing: Chen Changsheng is not a dead man.”
Zhou Tong looked at his subordinates with a blank expression. “Since he’s not a dead man, he’s bound to have his own thoughts. If he himself wants to leave the National Academy, who can stop him?”
His subordinates didn’t quite understand. “Why would he come out?”
Zhou Tong stood before the courtyard, gazing at the crabapple tree, and said nothing.
He had seen the correspondence between the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion and the Imperial Palace.
In that correspondence, the Old Man of Heavenly Mechanism said Chen Changsheng was about to die.
He knew that someone like Chen Changsheng would never simply die quietly like that.
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The wine cup landed on the hard pearwood table, producing a dull yet clear sound. Tianhai Shengxue, who had recently returned to the capital from the Embrace Snow Pass, looked up and cast a mocking glance at his cousins and brothers in the hall. Finally, his gaze settled on his father. “We can only wait for him to walk out of the National Academy on his own.”
Tianhai Chengwu’s expression softened, showing some relief. But in the next moment, the relief scattered with the night wind. His expression grew stern again, and his voice turned cold.
“He will come out. The moment he sets foot outside the National Academy, kill him.”
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The night remained as before, still and peaceful, as if the fallen figures earlier had been mere illusions, as if no terrifying assassins had ever come, only to be killed one by one.
Zhe Xiu stood quietly by the lake, confirming that all the assassins were dead. Yet his mood did not lighten; he was still worried. He slid down from the banyan tree and walked toward the small building.
Countless sword intents lay hidden, unmanifested, silently following the principles of heaven and earth, interwoven in the space around the small building. If anyone dared to intrude, they would surely trigger countless terrifying beams of sword light.
Zhe Xiu acted as if he saw nothing and simply walked through.
Those sword intents remained hidden in the night, not triggered to strike him down. The female disciples of the Southern Stream Sect were well aware of his relationship with Chen Changsheng. The Holy Maiden had been summoned to the Imperial Palace, and they truly had no way to make a decision in such a short time.
There was no such thing as perfect calculation in the world. Even though Xu Yourong excelled at deduction and her Fate Star Disk aligned with the starry sky, she still couldn’t foresee certain things—like the human heart.
And so Zhe Xiu walked through the Sword Formation of the Southern Stream Sect and entered the small building.
Then, he saw Tang Thirty-Six.
Tang Thirty-Six was very worried about Chen Changsheng, so it was only natural that he would be here. Clearly, all the arrangements Xu Yourong had left in place were useless against him as well.
“What is he doing?” Zhe Xiu asked Tang Thirty-Six.
In just half a day, Tang Thirty-Six had already looked much wearier.
The fact that Chen Changsheng was about to die had placed immense psychological pressure on everyone. As Chen Changsheng’s best friend, his mood had been especially affected.
Tang Thirty-Six didn’t answer his question. He stared at the closed door of the room, his expression somewhat gloomy.
Zhe Xiu said no more. He walked straight up and pushed the door open.
There was no one in the room.
Seeing the empty bed and the deserted desk, both their faces changed instantly.
A short while later, Su Moyu, having received the message, also arrived.
“What do we do?”
Su Moyu’s expression was anxious. “We need to inform the Palace of Departure immediately.”
Zhe Xiu was silent for a moment before saying, “No.”
“There is a kind of great beast that, when it knows it is about to die, will walk to a very distant place on its own, quietly waiting for the final moment to come, unwilling to be seen by anyone. Perhaps it feels that only this way can it preserve its last shred of dignity.”
Tang Thirty-Six said, “Chen Changsheng probably thinks the same way.”
Zhe Xiu added, “Cats do the same before they die.”
The bedding on the bed was folded neatly, like a block of tofu. The desk and bookshelf were spotless, as if they had just been bought today. It seemed Chen Changsheng had taken nothing with him when he left—not even the old books on the shelf or the bamboo dragonfly that had been soaked in water. But Xuanyuan Po wasn’t here at the time; otherwise, he might have noticed that a cleaver used for chopping bones was missing from the National Academy’s kitchen.
Also, Ye Xiaolian had gone into the library to rest and found a small box beside the bedding. Opening the box, she saw a letter signed by Chen Changsheng. He said it was for Xu Yourong.
Half an hour before these events, in the dead of night, Chen Changsheng had jumped out of the library window, slipped through the dense woods, reached the kitchen on the opposite side of the lake, grabbed a cleaver, opened his yellow paper umbrella, climbed over the newly repaired section of the wall, and left the National Academy.
When the female disciples of the Southern Stream Sect realized that the target they were protecting had vanished, it wasn’t long before the news reached that manor on the outskirts of the city and the courtyard on Northern Military Command Alley.
In early autumn, the crabapple tree naturally had no blossoms, nor had its leaves begun to fall. It was lush and green, swaying gently in the night breeze. Starlight fell upon the bright red official robe, then reflected onto the crabapple tree. The rising and falling green leaves were coated in a layer of blood-red luster, as if they had turned into a sea of blood.
“I don’t like any variables that slip out of control. I hope you can eliminate such variables as early as possible. In other words, you have only one night to find him.”
Zhou Tong stood on the steps, looking expressionlessly at the officials kneeling in a dark mass across the courtyard. “Then, no matter what method you use, you must kill him.”
The officials in the courtyard dispersed silently like a receding tide, leaving only the lonely crabapple tree and two officials in bright red robes.
There were very few officials qualified to stand shoulder to shoulder with Zhou Tong. Cheng Jun was one of them. As a powerful minister equally trusted by Her Holiness the Saint Empress, he ranked just below Zhou Tong among the so-called “Eight Tigers” in the folk.
“Breaking into the National Academy at night for an assassination is one thing. But if he has left the National Academy and we still try to kill him in the capital, that’s open murder… The Pope won’t let us off.”
Cheng Jun held the position of Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, yet he had none of the solemn dignity that the law of Zhou should confer. His triangular brows were inverted, his nose was sunken, and his lips were thin—just from his appearance, he was extremely repulsive.
The officials that Her Holiness the Saint Empress had first employed were all former outcasts, deeply rejected by the officialdom, because in the beginning, no truly virtuous and capable official was willing to serve her.
“Besides Her Holiness, who in this world has ever been willing to let people like us off?”
A faint smile hung on Zhou Tong’s face. Under the starlight, his complexion appeared somewhat pale, as if he were not a living person, and his smile seemed eerie and terrifying.
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The news of Chen Changsheng’s departure from the National Academy reached that manor. The Tianhai family’s meeting ended hastily, and people quickly dispersed. The clan’s will spread throughout the entire capital. From the Imperial Guard to the Capital Prefecture, countless people plunged into the night, trying to find Chen Changsheng and then kill him.
Tianhai Chengwu walked to an autumn tree and gazed at the bright cluster of lights in the far distance. He remained silent for a long time without speaking—that was Sweet Dew Terrace, the place Her Holiness most loved to stay.
Watching his father’s back, Tianhai Shengxue also remained silent. He felt something was off today. Killing Chen Changsheng was certainly no easy task, but the entire Tianhai family shouldn’t have been whipped into such a frenzy. The scale was too large, and it wasn’t guaranteed to find Chen Changsheng; instead, it was more likely to alert the other side. It almost seemed like a kind of announcement. Why?