On a summer afternoon, with cicadas chirping and birds singing outside the window, Han Yi held a bowl of clear tea and leaned against the inn’s window sill, quietly gazing at the scenery outside.

The famous general’s elegance was indeed no empty reputation. This person’s handsome appearance was indescribably dignified, maintaining refinement within his martial bearing—truly possessing the bearing of “Lu Bu among men.” At this time, A’Sha had transformed into the mighty general of old and was no longer foolish and simple. But having lost his former silly, clumsy smile, he had instead gained a deep, melancholy expression. Looking at him gazing out the window with furrowed handsome brows, he seemed less happy than the A’Sha of the past.

It had been five or six days since recovering from his great illness. Hearing everyone speak of past events, only then did Han Yi understand that he had been unconscious from injury for over ten years. Reflecting on how he had spent these years, he was completely confused and couldn’t remember at all. It was as if he had slept a long, long sleep—a full twenty years—before awakening.

Though he couldn’t remember recent events, he was thoroughly familiar with all matters large and small before the mountain stronghold’s destruction. After chatting with everyone and hearing about Yan Zhenwu’s murder, Nucang Mountain’s destruction, and Yan Er’niang’s years of searching for him, he couldn’t help shedding tears of sorrow. Everyone feared his excessive grief might cause him to fall ill again, so they stopped mentioning these sad past events.

Now with great battle approaching, the mountain stronghold brothers were feeding horses and sharpening weapons, soon to assault Shaolin and compete with the great divine monks. Lu Guzhan knew Han Yi’s body hadn’t fully recovered and naturally didn’t want him to overexert his mind. He instructed Tao Qing, Ha Bu’er, Ouyang Yong and others to take Xiao Lubu and Er’niang out for sightseeing. First, to let Yan Er’niang relax; second, to let Han Yi recuperate; third, to give the couple more time alone together. With many people on this trip, it was lively, and with Tao Qing’s thoughtful arrangements, everything could be managed safely and smoothly.

But with the Shaolin battle soon to begin, Nucang Mountain was a great enemy of the court, so naturally they dared not casually enter the Central Plains. These days they only traveled in the northwest regions. Today they had come to Dunhuang and seeing the dense population and bustling market town, they rested overnight at an inn, planning to tour the Buddhist grottoes tomorrow morning.

As Han Yi gazed out the window deep in thought, he suddenly heard someone knock on the door behind him. Han Yi was slightly startled and turned to look back, seeing a woman in her thirties leaning in the doorway, carrying a soup bowl as she entered—it was his beloved wife Er’niang, who had repeatedly searched for his whereabouts for twenty years. Seeing her personally bringing him medicine, Han Yi quickly stood up and said apologetically, “How can I trouble you to serve me when there’s nothing wrong? Come… give me the bowl.” He walked to Yan Er’niang’s side and reached out to take it.

Yan Er’niang said quietly, “This prescription was written by Military Advisor Tang. He instructed it should be drunk while hot. After you take the medicine, I’ll go arrange dinner.” Though she appeared to smile, her worried expression was hard to hide, and her words seemed thoughtful. She placed the soup bowl on the table and turned to leave.

Though Han Yi was ill, his vision remained quite sharp. Seeing she was about to leave, he quickly followed and said gently, “Er’niang, wait a moment.”

Yan Er’niang stopped and looked back, “Is there something else?”

The person before her was the husband she had longed for day and night for many years. For over ten years of cold nights and lonely pillows in her empty chamber, which night had she not fallen asleep crying while reminiscing about the past? Yet now that they had met, she felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. Thinking of Qin Zhonghai made her heart even more sour and unbearable. Meeting again was actually parting—how should she cope with this?

Han Yi stared at her intently, seeing the sadness in her gaze, and asked quietly, “Er’niang, you seem unhappy?” Yan Er’niang shook her head and forced a smile, “What do you mean? Your health has greatly improved, and we’ve rebuilt the mountain stronghold—how could I not be happy?”

Han Yi’s starry eyes looked at her sideways, but he didn’t speak.

These past days, Yan Er’niang had deliberately avoided her husband. Not only was she unwilling to share a bed with him at night, but even during daytime conversations she required Tao Qing, Ha Bu’er and others to accompany them. The brothers all saw this but didn’t know how to offer advice, so they could only let things take their natural course. Thinking the couple had deep feelings, perhaps if they spent more time together, old passions might rekindle and the awkwardness would disappear.

Seeing her eyes looking toward the door, Han Yi asked gently, “Do you want to go out?” Thinking of past events, Yan Er’niang felt she shouldn’t avoid him like this and quickly said, “Don’t think nonsense. Drink your medicine quickly. In a few days we’re going to Shaolin—if you don’t recover your health soon, who will fight then?” She picked up the soup bowl and brought it to her husband’s lips, feeding him the medicine.

After Han Yi drank a few sips of the medicinal soup, he sighed, “The stronghold has so many masters now—where would they need me? After eighteen years, whose martial arts haven’t advanced by leaps and bounds? Only your husband has grown old and wasted many good years—now I’m no longer capable.”

A round mirror sat on the table. Han Yi glanced sideways and saw his haggard reflection in the mirror. The elegant and graceful man of the past now had graying temples and showed great signs of aging, making him sigh even more.

Seeing his melancholy, Yan Er’niang set the soup bowl on the table and consoled him, “Stop sighing. Though you’re over forty, you’re still quite handsome. Compared to those bandits and rogues in the stronghold, your appearance still ranks first!”

Han Yi sighed, “Being old is being old—it’s nothing serious. In the great battle at Ghost Pavilion, your elder brother even lost his life. That I can sit here now is already a stroke of heavenly fortune. How can I keep dwelling on my appearance?” Thinking of his friendship with Yan Zhenwu made his heart feel even more sorrowful, and he couldn’t help sighing again.

Back then, Han Yi was close friends with Yan Zhenwu, which was how he met the young Er’niang. Whether going out hunting and sightseeing, or heading into battle, the three were always inseparable. Hearing him mention her elder brother, Yan Er’niang also recalled past events. She sighed quietly and walked over to help her husband arrange his appearance. With the couple’s cheeks touching, both their faces appeared in the mirror simultaneously. Yan Er’niang gazed at their reflection—though they were no longer the golden boy and jade girl of the past, in terms of appearance they could still be called an enviable middle-aged couple.

Yan Er’niang said softly, “Actually, your graying temples make you look better. Before, your appearance was too handsome and always lacked some maturity. Now you truly have the bearing of a great general.”

Mentioning the word “general” suddenly brought Qin Zhonghai to mind. Since encountering her husband at Zhu Family Village, Qin Zhonghai had left, and they hadn’t met face to face in all this time. According to Tao Qing’s account, Qin Zhonghai hadn’t even returned to the mountain stronghold and seemed to have gone to find Fang Zijing. Hearing this, Yan Er’niang naturally felt worried, tossing and turning sleeplessly at night with her heart hanging on him. Now thinking of Qin Zhonghai, amid her full concern, she couldn’t help feeling sad again. Fearing Xiao Lubu would notice something wrong with her expression, she quickly turned her head away and wiped her tears.

While Yan Er’niang secretly wiped her tears, Han Yi seemed unaware. He raised his head and laughed heartily, “After eighteen years, everyone has changed! Look how eloquent your mouth has become—much stronger than that clumsy girl from before.” Yan Er’niang was naturally strong-willed. Hearing her husband’s teasing, she immediately put on a stern face and scolded, “How dare you call me stupid?”

Han Yi knew she was easily provoked—back then he had teased her like this to capture the beauty’s heart. Speaking this way now was actually just to help her relax and not be afraid of him. He embraced his wife’s slender waist and said gently, “You are stupid. If such a delicate beauty like you were smarter, why would you work so hard looking for me? You could have remarried earlier, couldn’t you?” Though his words were teasing, his face showed a grateful expression.

Hearing him praise her appearance, Yan Er’niang felt secret joy in her heart. She gently broke free from his embrace and tapped Han Yi’s forehead, spitting, “You! You! After being a fool for eighteen years, you wake up with honey on your lips, specializing in pleasing people. Truly, ‘mountains and rivers may change, but nature is hard to alter.'” Han Yi made an “oh” sound and laughed, “My nature is hard to alter? Back then you always said I was lecherous with ill intentions. Now I’m going to show you my unchanged nature!” With that, he swept her up and placed her on his lap, then leaned down to kiss her lips.

At this time their feelings hadn’t recovered and their interactions were awkward. Seeing him wanting to be intimate with her, Yan Er’niang felt both shy and angry. She pushed her husband away and screamed, “Don’t touch me!” She quickly retreated backward and actually knocked over the tea table, leaving Han Yi thoroughly embarrassed.

Seeing his beloved wife so afraid of him, Han Yi felt hurt, but he was naturally considerate, gentle, graceful and magnanimous—which had earned him the reputation of “Little Lu Bu.” Seeing Yan Er’niang’s anger, he first bowed deeply to her as an apology, then righted the tea table with a calm demeanor.

Seeing this, Yan Er’niang felt somewhat guilty and also helped clean up. Han Yi neither stopped her nor thanked her, just smiled slightly at her. He picked up the teapot and brought over a cup of hot tea, saying gently, “If you’re not angry with me, drink this tea.”

Yan Er’niang’s face reddened as she reached out to take the teacup. Looking around uncertainly, she seemed at a loss when suddenly someone knocked on the door and called, “Big Sister! Some horse traders outside say they have some fine specimens and want us to take a look!” This was Tao Qing. Hearing the commotion in the room and Yan Er’niang’s scream, he was worried and immediately came to mediate.

These past days, Yan Er’niang most feared being alone with her husband. Hearing Tao Qing arrive, she wanted to slip out early and quickly responded, “Wait a moment, I’ll be right there.” She hurriedly turned to her husband apologetically, “Brother Tieshan always complains about the stronghold’s horses being poor. It’s rare that Dunhuang has several horse markets, so he wants me to help him pick a good one. I’ll go take a look now and be back shortly.”

Han Yi and Li Tieshan were life-and-death friends. Hearing his request for help, he was happy to assist. He looked at his beloved wife and smiled, “Go quickly! Don’t keep them waiting.” Yan Er’niang looked back at her husband and said quietly, “I left some silver on the table. If you get hungry later, just go eat on the street—don’t wait for me.”

Han Yi laughed heartily, “When did Xiao Lubu become unable to even eat, needing your reminders? Go handle your business!”

Yan Er’niang knew her husband was being considerate and accommodating in every way. Thinking of how she had been avoiding him these days, she felt somewhat guilty. She said hurriedly, “Then I… I’m leaving…” Han Yi smiled and nodded, seeing her off.

The room was empty except for the cup of tea he had just offered—Er’niang hadn’t touched a single sip.

Back then, Qin Baxian had sharp eyes for selecting his cavalry generals, all of whom were bold and resourceful. As one of the Five Tigers, Han Yi was naturally exceptionally clever—how could he not know Yan Er’niang was deliberately avoiding him? Otherwise, with “Little Lu Bu’s” excellent horsemanship, if she really needed to examine horses, why wouldn’t she ask him to come along? He looked at the teacup on the table with mixed feelings, thinking: “After so many years apart, everyone has grown distant… sigh… forget it. No matter what, I shouldn’t blame her. Er’niang has been running around for years—she lost her brother and couldn’t find her husband, leading the brothers alone through hardships… it’s all because I’ve been mentally unclear these years, causing her to suffer…”

Sitting alone in the inn, he couldn’t help overthinking. Then thinking of the great Shaolin battle, excitement rose in his heart as he mused: “According to Brother Tao, Old Shi, Master Lu, Brother Li and the others have each practiced several divine techniques. When we reach Shaolin, I must have a good look. Hehe, Military Advisor Zhu is like a dragon—head visible but tail hidden. Once he reaches the mountain stronghold, who can stop us?”

Han Yi lay on the bed in a daze, repeatedly recalling past events. Seeing the sunset illuminating the inn, he was indeed getting hungry. He looked at the silver money Yan Er’niang had left on the table and thought: “Forget it, staying alone in the inn is stifling. I might as well go out and get something to eat!” He immediately jumped up, grabbed the silver, and wandered the streets.

Han Yi was originally a famous court general who had been appointed Regional Commander of Yingzhou before joining the mountain. With his rich experience, his bearing was extraordinary, and with such background, he was inevitably picky when eating. He walked along the street for a long time without finding a satisfactory food shop. As he looked around repeatedly, he suddenly saw a pastry shop by the roadside. The sweet cake flavor filled his mouth, making him suddenly crave sweets, so he entered the shop and had the owner pack a full bag.

Han Yi held an oil paper bag in his left hand and picked up a piece of osmanthus cake with his right hand, placing it in his mouth to chew slowly. When it entered his mouth, he felt the fragrant sweetness throughout, and after eating one piece, he unconsciously reached for another. While eating, he suddenly remembered something: “Strange, I never liked eating cakes before. How did my taste seem to change after twenty years?”

Thinking about this, he unconsciously reached out his right hand toward his side, as if wanting to hold something. Han Yi made a surprised sound, secretly amazed, thinking: “What’s wrong with me? My whole body seems off. Could something unusual have happened during these years when I was confused and dazed?”

As he walked along, repeatedly pondering this, he suddenly felt light, quick footsteps behind him, as if someone was following him. Han Yi listened carefully—the person’s steps were light and slow, showing quite good qinggong. As one of the Five Tigers with supreme martial arts, sensing something wrong, without turning around, he touched down with his right foot and his body flew backward, then with a reverse grab, he had grasped the follower’s pulse point.

Han Yi had seen much of the court’s cruel ruthlessness. He immediately smiled coldly, about to severely torment his enemy. Just as he was about to use internal force, he suddenly felt the thing in his grasp was extremely soft and smooth. Han Yi looked closely and was shocked to see he was holding a young girl’s wrist.

Han Yi saw this girl was about fifteen or sixteen years old, quite beautiful but somewhat haggard-looking, with large eyes full of tears, just staring blankly at him.

Puzzled and confused, Han Yi just snorted and said sternly, “Miss, what instruction do you have? Why have you been following me?”

The girl had been gazing at him intently. Hearing this sharp question, her body suddenly shook violently. She lowered her head and said quietly, “You… don’t you recognize me anymore?” Her voice was so sorrowful it was completely inconsistent with her youthful years.

Han Yi raised his eyebrows and said loudly, “Recognize you? I’ve never met this young lady before—why do you ask such a thing?”

The girl’s eyes reddened as she said quietly, “I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

Han Yi heard her strange words and withdrew his hand. He saw the girl cover her face with her hands and immediately fled.

Han Yi saw her qinggong foundation was excellent—she must be from a famous family. He shook his head and thought: “These times are truly strange. A perfectly good little girl following men on the street? Could someone have instructed her?” He was a Nucang Mountain rebel, always a thorn in the court’s eye. If his identity were recognized, it might bring endless killing intent. Unable to figure out the inside story, he could only shake his head and walk toward the street center.

Coming to a noodle shop packed with people, seeing the thriving business, the taste and craftsmanship were probably quite good. Han Yi took out silver and asked the owner for several scallion pancakes and two jin of beef to take back to the inn.

While waiting, he suddenly felt two gazes shooting from behind, as if someone was watching nearby. Han Yi remained calm and glanced sideways, seeing a corner of yellow clothing showing behind the large tree across the street. Han Yi paid attention, his eyes slightly askew. Before long, he saw a sweet young girl’s face peeking out from behind the tree, her large eyes constantly stealing glances at him—who else could it be but the girl from before?

Han Yi shook his head and thought: “What is this girl’s intention? Following me repeatedly is really too strange. Let me go ask her.” He settled accounts with the shop owner, picked up the pancakes, and walked boldly toward the girl without any attempt at concealment.

Seeing her tracks exposed, the girl looked panicked and quickly hid under the willow shade of a nearby path. She hid behind clusters of flowers and trees but kept poking her head out to steal glances at him. Looking at her two little hands gripping tightly, she seemed afraid to face him yet reluctant to leave. Han Yi smiled slightly. He had always been handsome and graceful—during his trip to the capital years ago to have an audience with the emperor, he had captured countless beauties’ hearts. When Nucang rode out to war, his romantic reputation spread across all corners of the world. Now seeing the girl’s shy manner, he didn’t find it strange. He gathered his qi and leaped, landing steadily before the girl.

Han Yi leaned against the wall with arms crossed, smiling, “Little sister, what exactly is the matter? I’ve never met you before—why do you keep following me?” The girl, stared at by his handsome eyes, suddenly had tears welling up. She just lowered her head and tightly closed her red lips without speaking.

Seeing her so genuinely sorrowful, Han Yi felt somewhat puzzled. He immediately bent down to look at her closely and asked gently, “Little sister, what’s wrong? Is there something unhappy? Tell big brother?”

The girl held back tears, “Nothing. I’m fine.” She was about to turn and leave when Han Yi saw her delicate, lovely face, red and quite adorable. He immediately grabbed her and smiled, “Little sister, you cry as soon as you see me, yet you desperately follow me. Were you bullied by someone?” He reached out his right hand and gently lifted her chin, raising her pretty face.

This gesture was somewhat improper. As soon as Han Yi acted, he felt regret—Yan Er’niang treated him with deep affection, so how could he flirt with beautiful women again? He blamed himself and was about to withdraw his hand when suddenly the girl threw herself into his arms.

Han Yi was startled and was about to push her away when the girl extended both hands to gently caress his face. Looking at her eyes full of tears and hearing her constantly calling out softly, her expression both loving and pitying, appearing dreamy and infatuated.

This pure and lovely face appeared before his eyes. Though Han Yi was a veteran of romantic battlefields, at this moment his heart still stirred with a strange feeling. For a moment he just wanted to hold this girl in his arms and kiss her tender, snow-white cheeks. As soon as this thought arose, his arms had already extended, about to caress the girl’s waist. Suddenly his mind cleared—he forcibly withdrew his hands and stepped back, saying sternly, “Miss, who exactly are you? Why do you keep following me?”

The girl smiled bitterly and just stared blankly at the ground. After a moment, she suddenly asked, “Have you… have you been happy these days?”

Han Yi was puzzled and confused, not knowing why she asked this. He frowned, “I couldn’t be better.” He coughed and asked in return, “Miss, why do you ask? Do you know me?” The girl nodded slightly, her face showing a trace of bitter smile as she said quietly, “Good… then I’m relieved.” She said no more and actually turned to leave.

Han Yi was greatly suspicious and was about to chase after her, but then thought: “The court has been cunning and ruthless toward me. They might have set a poisonous trap to deal with me—I must be careful.”

With this thought, he stood still. He looked at the empty green willow shade, shook his head, and left.

Returning to the inn, Yan Er’niang hadn’t returned yet, so Han Yi ate alone. He chewed the pancakes and beef, feeling extremely bored, so he wanted to find some books to pass the time. He reached into his luggage to search when suddenly a gold locket fell out of his clothes with a clang, dropping to the floor.

Han Yi picked it up and saw the locket didn’t seem like anything valuable—just an ordinary thing parents gave to small children.

Han Yi smiled slightly and thought: “This kind of thing must be Er’niang’s. I don’t know which person in the stronghold got married and had children, giving people such boring trinkets.” He casually examined the locket and saw several small characters cast on it. Han Yi smiled as he read: “A’Sha is not stupid, hee hee ha ha, may you be safe and sound year after year. Presented by Sister Juan’er in the ninth month of the Ji-Si year.”

These words were quite childish, making Han Yi smile slightly as he thought: “This year is Geng-Chen year… the ninth month of Ji-Si year—this locket is from last autumn.” He yawned and was about to put the locket away when he made a surprised sound, feeling something strange, as if the locket had some mechanism. Being naturally clever, Han Yi quickly took out the locket to examine it again, reading through the text to see if there were other mysteries within.

After reading it several times, he found nothing. He sighed and tossed the locket aside, picking up the pancake to chew.

While eating, crumbs fell on his clothes. Han Yi shook his clothes, and suddenly a clear voice rang in his ears, laughing: “A’Sha! You dropped food again!” Han Yi was shocked and actually blurted out, “Who?”

He made a surprised sound, not knowing why he had shouted like that. He looked at the crumbs on his clothes in complete bewilderment and picked up the locket again, murmuring: “A’Sha is not stupid, hee hee ha ha, may you be safe and sound year after year. Presented by Sister Juan’er…”

Sister Juan’er…

In his dazed confusion, tears had already filled his eyes, as if just calling this name brought peace and joy to his heart.

Just then, the room door opened with a click—Yan Er’niang had returned. Han Yi’s heart jumped in alarm. Vaguely sensing this item wouldn’t please his wife, he quickly wiped away his tears and hid the gold locket in his robes.

Yan Er’niang glanced at him strangely, “What’s wrong? Your expression looks so odd?” Han Yi was a veteran of romantic battles—how could he show his hand? He immediately forced a smile, “I saw you were out so long and was worried, so my expression became strange.”

Yan Er’niang set down her bundle and shook her head, “Looking at you like this, it’s as if you did something shameful.” Han Yi’s heart jumped in alarm as he quickly waved his hands, “Heaven and earth witness—I didn’t do anything!”

Yan Er’niang said flatly, “Just joking. Look how scared you are.” She took out an oil paper package from her bundle, “Have you eaten? I passed a noodle stand on the way and feared you’d be hungry, so I bought some pancakes back…”

Han Yi listened to his wife’s words, just nodding constantly, but his heart stirred with wonderful longing—a kind of joyful feeling, as if childhood playmates were already waiting at the door, just waiting for him to come out and play…

Looking at the brilliant sunlight outside the window, Han Yi felt somewhat restless…

In the dark night with high winds and cold starlight, the door of Damo Temple finally opened slowly with a creak.

A tall monk emerged from within. Under the moonlight, his face showed a serene divine radiance—it was Abbot Lingzhi.

Two monks approached from left and right, their faces worried as they bowed in attendance. Lingding quickly said, “Abbot, nothing happened, did it?”

Lingzhi sighed and shook his head, “Nothing happened. Fang Zijing only entered the inner courtyard and hadn’t reached the secret passage before Master Uncle detected him. The two didn’t fight.”

Lingyin pondered for a long time before asking, “What was the ‘Nine Provinces Sword King’s’ intention in exploring Damo Temple at night? Did he want to rescue Hidden Dragon?” Lingzhi shook his head, “These past days, many people have tried to break into Damo Temple. This Master Fang is just one of them. Everyone be more vigilant. Add more personnel to guard the back mountain to avoid repeatedly disturbing Master Uncle.”

Lingding and others felt their hearts tremble. Thinking of Nucang Mountain’s cloud of masters—not only was Fang Zijing’s martial arts formidable, but looking at the Azure-Robed Scholar’s deep scheming, Shi Gang’s brave fighting skills, and Lu Guzhan’s combination of wisdom and courage, all were difficult opponents. Not to mention Qin Zhonghai himself, who had mastered the six meridians of yin and yang and was familiar with court deployments, making him especially troublesome.

Knowing the great battle would be difficult, Lingding quickly asked, “Did Master Uncle give any sure strategy for victory?”

Lingzhi shook his head, “Where in the world is there a sure victory? However, Master Uncle repeatedly instructed that we must bring the Nucang leaders up the mountain. Especially that Qin Zhonghai—whether by capture or deception, we must bring him to Damo Temple at any cost.”

Lingding quickly asked, “Dead or alive?” Lingzhi’s face flashed with shadow as he shook his head, “Senior brother, though we’re martial world people, we’re also monks—how can we kill without cause? Of course we can’t harm his life. Master Uncle has private words to say to him.”

Hearing that Tianjue wanted to speak privately with Qin Zhonghai, Lingyin thought he had misheard and immediately made a surprised sound. Lingding said anxiously, “This… this couldn’t mean… couldn’t mean Master Uncle listened to Hidden Dragon’s instigation and wants to ally with Nucang Mountain in rebellion?”

Lingzhi’s body shook violently, his face changing greatly as he quickly waved his hands, “Senior brother, don’t speculate wildly—Master Uncle never said such a thing.”

Seeing they wanted to ask more, Lingzhi shook his head, indicating they shouldn’t ask further.

He gazed intently at the twinkling starlight in the sky—autumn was approaching. Looking at the first day of the seventh month when ghost gates open, yet Master Uncle chose this day to act—it was truly ominous. Lingzhi lowered his head and prayed quietly, “Buddha protect Shaolin, let Master Uncle resolve the situation without causing chaos… otherwise… otherwise if treacherous ministers and ambitious heroes all break free from their cocoons, we’ll all become accomplices…”

“Quick! Quick! Where is he?”

Jiang Chong hurriedly dismounted his horse, angrily cursing as he pushed aside the sedan bearers on both sides and walked straight to the main gate. This treacherous minister usually sat comfortably and leisurely in his official sedan, but today he had actually ridden a horse himself with such urgent expression. The gate guards were naturally greatly surprised, quickly saying, “Reporting to the lord, the person is already in the room.” Jiang Chong pushed aside the person reporting and half-ran, half-walked urgently toward a bedroom.

Since the fifth year of Jingtai, Jiang Chong had sent six spies to assassinate “Hidden Dragon,” but none had returned alive. Zhao Renzong was indeed formidable—he had returned alive. But… sigh…

“Great-grandfather! Great-grandfather! Don’t kill me!”

A person on the bed stared with vacant eyes, recognizing nothing but the words “great-grandfather.” A fat, large man reached over to hold down that person’s hands and feet, shouting, “Sixth brother! Calm down! I’m your eldest brother!” Seeing his eldest brother, Zhao Renzong still screamed, “Great-grandfather! Great-grandfather! Don’t kill me!” Several imperial physicians came forward to surround him, each feeling his pulse for diagnosis. The stout man was both shocked and frightened, his expression concerned as he shouted, “How is it? Can he still be saved?”

The group consultation involved physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy whose skills were naturally extraordinary. But madness was neither a disorder of qi and blood nor external wind-cold infection. The imperial physicians looked at each other and shook their heads. The stout man said sadly, “No hope?”

The imperial physician sighed, “No one can say for certain about such things. Perhaps he’ll wake tomorrow, perhaps never—no one knows if there’s a cure.” The stout man’s face turned furious. Suddenly he extended his vinegar-bowl-sized fist and struck the table heavily. With a loud crash, the sandalwood table collapsed under his fist. The imperial physician was scared pale and dared not say another word.

Jiang Chong consoled, “Brother Zhao, don’t lose heart. Your sixth brother went out perfectly fine and now he’s like this—I, Jiang, take full responsibility. You leave him at Daming Prefecture, and I’ll take him back to the capital shortly. No matter how many years it takes, we’ll cure him completely.”

Zhao Renyong’s face was full of fury as he gritted his teeth, “Lord Jiang, my brothers have supported each other since childhood. If my sixth brother doesn’t recover, hehe… my Zhao family holds noble rank…” Suddenly pointing at Jiang Chong, he roared, “I’ll never let this end!”

This Zhao Renyong, in his anxiety, actually cursed the powerful minister to his face. Jiang Chong knew he was anxious about his brother and wouldn’t really mind. Thinking of his deceased elder brother, not only did his heart not anger, but he felt pity. He patted Zhao Renyong’s shoulder in comfort.

With great battle approaching and winds stirring clouds, Jiang Chong had specially sent masters into Damo Temple just to investigate the details clearly. Who knew he would be counter-attacked instead.

“Hidden Dragon” Zhu Yang, Qin Baxian’s right-hand man, Nucang Mountain’s second-in-command—he was the person the treacherous minister hated most deeply.

Jiang Chong, full of troubles, walked back to the great hall. At this moment, the hall was lined left and right with many official guards. Suddenly seeing the minister arrive, they all knelt on the ground and called in unison, “Lord Jiang!” Jiang Chong had been deep in thought when he suddenly heard the thunderous shout, as if his soul had been scared away. Seeing the official guards staring at him, his heart immediately felt annoyed. He quickly waved his hands and shouted, “Don’t bother me! All of you get out!”

Hearing these words, the official guards showed no sign of moving. They were seen fawning with smiling faces, their eyes not leaving Jiang Chong’s side—apparently wanting to receive some reward money. Jiang Chong took out banknotes and scattered them in the air, shouting, “Scram!”

The official guards were wildly delighted. Seeing the banknotes of fifty taels each dancing in mid-air, they all immediately reached out to grab them with urgent expressions like insects on felt, making people shake their heads.

The Daming Prefecture yamen was spacious. Jiang Chong sat alone in the center of the hall, covering his face with his hands, feeling quite troubled. Truly a laborious fate—the wound inflicted by Zhuo Lingzhao some days ago hadn’t healed, and now he had to rush to Daming to oversee and command. This treacherous minister’s job was truly bitter, far from the smooth sailing outsiders imagined.

Since fighting Qin Baxian, he had always been at a disadvantage. Each time he sent spies up the mountain, they either died, surrendered, or disappeared without trace—no one had ever returned with even a word for him. Who knew Zhao Renzong would return alive but become a fool. Trying to steal a chicken but losing the rice—looking at Zhao Xingshi’s furious expression, he would probably go before the emperor to file a complaint.

“Lord Jiang.”

Jiang Chong raised his head and suddenly saw a tall monk standing before him—it was the Western Region-born strategist Luo Moshi. Jiang Chong quickly stood up, “You’ve come! When did you arrive?” Luo Moshi put his palms together and bowed, “This humble monk arrived a day earlier than you, my lord, and has been waiting at the yamen since yesterday.”

Jiang Chong was now both panicked and confused, having long lost awareness of external matters. He steadied himself and quickly asked, “In the master’s view, how is Zhao Renzong’s condition?”

Luo Moshi said slowly, “This old monk removed Master Zhao Sixth’s clothes and examined him. He has a wound about an inch long on his back, apparently from a nail. Apart from this, there are no other injuries on his body. This old monk suspects this wound is related to his madness, so I tested with silver needles, but the wound shows no trace of poison.” He looked at Jiang Chong and sighed, “Shaolin Temple has clouds of masters, some skilled in fists and feet, some proficient with swords and blades, but I’ve never heard of anyone expert with sharp nail weapons.”

Jiang Chong’s face was iron-gray as he took a deep breath, “No need to think—it was his doing.” Luo Moshi said quietly, “My lord means…” Jiang Chong exhaled a long breath and said quietly, “Prince Jingjiang Wang Yang, code name ‘Hidden Dragon’—it was his doing.”

Luo Moshi was shocked, “Prince Jingjiang Wang Yang? This… what does this mean?”

Jiang Chong didn’t answer, just closed his eyes. Since the enemy was so formidable, he shouldn’t harbor fear. He tapped his knuckles on the table several times, his expression slowly becoming calm as usual. After pondering for a long time, he said, “Master, you’ve been in the Western Region long—do you know any famous doctors or saints who can cure this madness?” Luo Moshi pondered for a long time, “In today’s world, the greatest medical skill belongs to Jiuhua Mountain’s Azure-Robed Scholar. If this person acted, he could naturally remove the root of the disease and restore Master Sixth’s original appearance.”

Jiang Chong made a sound and said loudly, “Bastard! Aren’t you making fun of me? The Azure-Robed Scholar is Tang Shiqian—he’s been forced up the mountain. Could we possibly capture him?”

Seeing his anger, Luo Moshi could only bow with palms together and retreat to one side.

Jiang Chong, having long held high position, knew the principle that fools are easy but talents are difficult. Seeing Luo Moshi’s expression alternating between dark and light, as if quite startled, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat apologetic. Back then, Luo Moshi held the position of National Teacher, his eloquence and scheming were impressive. Now serving as an official under him, he shouldn’t be oppressed and humiliated until he became another yes-man who knew nothing. Thinking of An’dao Jing’s usual perfunctory, shameless flattery, Jiang Chong secretly sighed and quickly said, “I apologize. This official was somewhat anxious and inevitably spoke rudely. Please don’t take offense, master.”

Hearing his politeness, Luo Moshi bowed and said, “This old monk is a subordinate—receiving Lord Jiang’s golden instruction is a joy, how dare I feel resentment?”

Hearing this mouthful of nonsense, Jiang Chong knew that official habits harmed people, and probably Luo Moshi would learn to follow suit. He sighed and ordered servants to bring tea, having Luo Moshi sit beside him as company.

The tea water had a blue-green radiance. Jiang Chong looked at the tea stems floating in the water and couldn’t help smiling bitterly.

“Great-grandfather! Great-grandfather! Don’t kill me!”

Zhao Renzong’s miserable screams came continuously from the distance. What mystery lay in this boy’s mad talk? His mind was confused, yet he still remembered a great-grandfather. Exactly who was this old great-grandfather? Was it Monk Tianjue? Was it “Hidden Dragon”? Or was there another master in Damo Temple?

In less than two days, Nucang would battle Shaolin, but until now he still couldn’t fathom Monk Tianjue’s intentions. This old monk had long withdrawn from the world—why did he re-enter the martial world this time? If he went to such great lengths just to kill Qin Zhonghai alone, this matter really didn’t make sense. If this old monk wanted to revive Shaolin’s prestige, since he no longer concerned himself with worldly affairs, there was even less reason.

Jiang Chong pondered for a long time. The eyes of the black-clothed man appeared before him—those eyes flashed with light, seeming to hide infinite killing intent. Jiang Chong suddenly awakened, thinking of Yang Suguan commanding one hundred thousand mighty troops all stationed at the mountain’s foot. In an instant, cold sweat poured down his entire body.

One ring connected to another, nine interlocking rings locked together—this was terrible. With enemies front and back, a pincer formation had been established. If these people had some conspiracy, they would probably catch him off guard.

The situation was so difficult that the slightest carelessness would cause him to destroy himself—the secret agents he had personally placed would turn to bite back. Jiang Chong’s heart was troubled, and he couldn’t help thinking of the benefits of having Zhuo Lingzhao alive, sighing quietly for a moment.

Though Sa Mau’s martial arts were high, he was just a crude warrior. Apart from being fierce in killing, he was useless in all other respects. Though Luo Moshi’s scheming was deep, his martial arts couldn’t compare with the Four Great Grandmasters. At this difficult juncture, only Zhuo Lingzhao could turn the tide. If this person were here, even wielding a sword to brave Shaolin alone or single-handedly ascending Nucang wouldn’t necessarily be difficult.

Too bad he had personally killed the man, using the most despicable methods. Now thinking of the Sword God’s benefits—wasn’t this just slapping his own face? In his regret, Jiang Chong could only sigh endlessly.

After sighing for a long time, Jiang Chong suddenly said, “Master Luo Moshi, send word down—I’m departing to return to the capital.”

Luo Moshi made a surprised sound and asked, “The Shaolin battle isn’t yet concluded—why is my lord rushing to leave?”

Jiang Chong sighed, “When this battle is finished, I’ll probably be finished too… sigh… At this juncture, I must quickly return to the capital. Only by asking an old friend for guidance can I find a way to survive.” Luo Moshi made an understanding sound, not knowing who could still offer guidance to such a formidable figure as Jiang Chong in the current court. He quickly asked, “Who does my lord want to see? Grand Secretary Kong?”

Jiang Chong looked at the empty hall and sighed, “What use is that old waste? I want to see Liu Angtian.”

Even with his intelligence, Luo Moshi was now speechless with shock.

The court’s three great factions were collectively called Jiang-Liu-Liu. Liu Angtian was a mortal enemy of Jiang Chong’s faction. With Jiang Chong’s status, he was actually going to visit this political enemy? He was stunned for a long time before asking, “My lord, you… you want to see Marquis Liu?”

Jiang Chong sighed to himself, “With no choice left, I can only ask Liu Angtian for help. I really can’t understand or guess what wishful thinking Monk Tianjue is playing. Now I can only ask Liu Angtian for help. Only by clarifying the secret agreement between Liu Angtian and the Empress Dowager back then can our court be safe…”

Yesterday’s friends, today’s enemies—in the interplay of positive and negative, who else could be trusted? Luo Moshi was both shocked and frightened. People said his own scheming was formidable, but compared to these key court figures, there was truly a world of difference…