“I’m listening.”

Not missing a single word.

Xie Zhifei clenched his fists, his voice slightly trembling. “Continue.”

“His Majesty loves this troop. In previous battles against the Tartars, he always brought Bu Liu along, specifically commanding them as the vanguard.”

He Yun turned to look at Xie Zhifei.

“If we fight the Tartars again this time, they’ll probably be essential. Hey… why are your eyes red?”

“The wine fumes.”

Xie Zhifei said slowly: “Their weapons are all swords?”

“You don’t understand—this is called ‘with a great sword in hand, the world is mine.'”

He Yun said this and sighed deeply. “The former Zheng Family Army also used great swords.”

In the shadows, Xie Zhifei’s stern features gradually revealed an irrepressible sadness.

The Zheng family sword technique consisted of thirty-two forms. Each form looked simple and unadorned but was actually a killing move.

Father said on the battlefield, fancy flourishes would get you killed. To survive, you had to kill—with killing moves.

Zheng Huaizuo began learning martial arts at three, the Zheng family sword technique at five. Being small with little strength, Father specially forged him a small sword.

At seven, he could lift a real great sword for the first time.

That sword was very heavy, taller than him, its blade like autumn frost, cutting iron like mud.

Father said: Son, with sword in hand, slaughter all the dogs who bully our China.

Xie Zhifei turned away and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

He never dreamed that in this place of pleasure and romance, he would encounter his grandfather’s former subordinates.

The final whereabouts of the Zheng Family Army—he had actually investigated thoroughly.

Of the fifty thousand troops, twenty thousand old and disabled soldiers retired to their hometowns, while thirty thousand were scattered and distributed to various military camps.

“How many are in the Bu Family Army?” he asked.

“Thirty thousand.”

He Yun: “Only thirty thousand.”

Xie Zhifei: “What do you mean by that?”

He Yun winked at him.

“His Majesty favors them, so naturally the Ministry of War favors them. Once the Ministry of War favors you, military provisions and such are allocated fully. Haven’t you noticed their armor is different from other soldiers’?”

Xie Zhifei: “How is it different?”

“More iron used. On the battlefield, it can take more hits and save lives at critical moments.”

He Yun: “Ask around at any of the major military camps—who doesn’t want to squeeze their way into the Bu Family Army? But who can get in?”

Even though Xie Zhifei knew the reason, he still asked unnecessarily: “Why?”

Because that answer would fill him with pride.

“Because the Zheng Family Army was reduced to thirty thousand in the end—one position for each person. Unless a soldier retires to his hometown, positions in the Bu Family Army are always first reserved for those who were once in the Zheng Family Army.”

He Yun glanced sideways with admiration. “When it comes down to it, Old General Zheng was truly remarkable, raising someone like Bu Liu. He…”

Before he could finish, a loud shout rang out: “Boss, found him—here!”

“Bring him down.”

“Yes!”

After a rush of rapid footsteps, two more people appeared on the courtyard ground.

One was a fair and delicate young male attendant with a face more beautiful than a girl’s and a figure more graceful than a girl’s.

The other was a man around twenty, bare-chested, exposing his muscular upper body, his lower half wearing pants that were half on, half off.

The guests of Yusheng Tower all forgot their earlier anger at being disturbed, one by one sticking their heads out from the railings to watch the show.

“I know that male attendant.”

He Yun said in a low voice: “Stage name Shaotang. Been learning opera since childhood. After leaving the troupe, he came to Yusheng Tower. That waist of his… tsk tsk tsk, could snap with one squeeze.”

Xie Zhifei glanced at him.

Seeing he’d gotten carried away and let something slip, He Yun quickly added: “This was all in the past. My thoughts now are all on…”

“Watch the show.”

Xie Zhifei coldly interrupted him.

At this moment, Bu Liu had already walked before the bare-chested man.

The man raised his head and gave him a roguish smile: “Godfather, why all this commotion? I was just playing for a few days before coming back.”

Bu Liu’s face was dark, saying nothing.

The man lunged forward and crawled at Bu Liu’s feet like a dog.

“Godfather, give me another two thousand taels of silver. Once I’m done spending it, I’ll completely reform. Really—if I’m lying, may I be a puppy.”

Bu Liu still said nothing.

The man’s lips twitched slightly. He rolled over and simply lay on the ground like a hooligan.

“Godfather, I was wrong. Don’t be angry, okay? Let me play three more days—just three days, okay?”

“Someone come.” Bu Liu finally spoke.

“Present.”

“Cane him to death.”

“Yes!”

Two soldiers stepped forward, one on each side, and lifted Shaotang from the ground.

Another soldier found a bench somewhere.

The three men pressed him onto the bench.

Shaotang had no idea the one to be caned to death would be himself. Frightened out of his wits, he wailed: “Young Master Xu, save me! Madam Owner, save me! I’m wronged—wronged! Why kill me?”

Xu Nian’an leaped up and roared at Bu Liu: “Besides beating and killing, what else can you do? If you’re capable, come at me—beat me to death!”

A layer of thin red floated up in Bu Liu’s eyes. He reached out and grabbed Xu Nian’an’s neck, saying with bitter disappointment:

“If not for your father, you’d have died hundreds of times already.”

Xu Nian’an’s face flushed red with pain as he said: “If not for my father, you’d have died long ago too. Father, my dear father—”

Bu Liu’s expression immediately soured. He released his hand and said through gritted teeth: “Bind him. Make him watch properly.”

“Yes!”

Hearing they wanted to bind him, Xu Nian’an threw himself on the ground again, slapping the cobblestones with his hands and shouting at the top of his lungs:

“Everyone look—the mighty Bu Family Army is binding people! Binding their own adopted son… mmph!”

Having only shouted halfway, his mouth was stuffed with cloth. Two soldiers pressed him down and dragged him before the bench.

Xie Zhifei frowned. “Wenyu, where did this adopted son come from?”

Though He Yun had just been yelled at, he felt somewhat displeased, but hearing the two words “Wenyu,” all displeasure vanished from his mind.

“Bu Liu acknowledged him himself, supposedly to repay a debt of gratitude. That worthless brat is hopeless mud—Bu Liu tells him to go east, he insists on going west. This has been going on for a long time.”

Here they spoke in low voices while the caning had already begun over there. They used the flat of the great sword blade. The male attendant screamed in pain, tears and snot flying everywhere, shouting “Madam Owner, save me” over and over.

The owner of Yusheng Tower was a seductive woman in her early thirties, surnamed Chu.

Madam Chu was extremely anxious. She wanted to step forward and persuade them but was wary of these barbaric soldiers. If she didn’t persuade them, having an extra vengeful ghost at Yusheng Tower would be inauspicious and bring bad luck.

Her gaze shifted and landed on Xie Zhifei hidden in the shadows. Like seeing a savior, Madam Chu shouted:

“My dear Master Xie, I beg you to come out and uphold justice! Yusheng Tower conducts legitimate business—how can there be beating and killing?”

He Yun’s eyes turned green with rage.

Stinking woman—of all people, your eyes had to be sharp enough to spot him. Later, this young master will dig out your eyeballs and use them as balls to stomp on.

“Chengyu, don’t go.” He grabbed Xie Zhifei’s hand.

“Stay here and don’t move.”

Xie Zhifei broke free of He Yun’s grip and strode forward with large steps.