In the pouring rain, the rushing river surged toward a sharp bend ahead, waves rising and rolling. The massive figure plunged into the water like a charging winter bear, and a moment later, that same figure surged back up onto the bank with a splash.
The one called Lin Ecan ran a few steps along the riverbank, staring at the water, still hurling stones as he ran, sending columns of water shooting up from the river’s surface. After several rounds of this, he finally stopped throwing stones wildly, ran a few more steps, and slowed to a halt.
“Haha.” He gave a somewhat mocking laugh, but in that river, the young woman who had fallen in was nowhere to be seen.
When masters cross blades, even the smallest lapse in a few exchanges can cost dearly. In this fight between them, though Lin Ecan had beaten Xigua without letting her get in a single counterattack, in terms of pure cultivation, young people like Xigua and Chen Fan had already touched the threshold of some kind of transformation these past years. Lin Ecan’s own water skills were only average, and he had no idea how good Xigua’s were in that regard — if she happened to be a strong swimmer, it wasn’t impossible that, badly wounded as she was, she could still burst up from the water and land a few cuts on him.
He had only just reemerged in the martial world, and now held the clear upper hand — before facing Zhou Tong, it was best to be cautious in all things. Besides, even supposing she really was an excellent swimmer, given how badly she was wounded, she couldn’t hold out long in water like this either way. The rain poured down as he paced along the river, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s, scanning both banks.
It was already evening; amid the curtain of rain, the mountains all looked dim and gray. Across the not-very-wide river lay a leaden-blue stretch of forest, hazy and low-lying. As the river roared past, the whole space between heaven and earth still carried a chilling sense of menace from that massive figure’s advance.
…
In the rushing water, the young woman gripped her short blade tightly, struggling to hold onto the last thread of consciousness. But in the river, undercurrents churned; her body silently struck against the sand and mud on the riverbed, and in an instant, she was tumbling, unable to tell up from down.
The light was dim, the water murky, yet the current moved with astonishing speed. Silt and waterweed swirled around her body, and just as the next bend suddenly arrived, she forced herself, on what consciousness remained, to adjust her posture and open her eyes wide.
Ahead, a jagged rock jutting from the riverbed suddenly loomed toward her head!
The dark shape grew larger—
…
As evening fell, the rain eased, but the sky had already grown dark ahead of time. Across the rain-soaked mountains and hills, scattered points of light glimmered.
In the hilly area near Siping Ridge, the camp was already a sea of mud. Zong Feixiao walked into the camp just as dinner was being served, the fire in the damp shelters burning with difficulty. Several teams of yamen runners were clearing ditches around the perimeter, while the day and night shift guards, wrapped in straw raincoats, were changing posts. Seeing him arrive, the enforcement of discipline grew even stricter.
The Ministry of Justice’s business drew on runners and constables gathered from every locality — in terms of resources deployed, it still relied on the prefectural and county offices. In this age, officials conducting their affairs had no particular scruples about disturbing the common people. But this matter was different from most.
The heroes of the martial underworld were, frankly speaking, a mixed bag of all sorts, and the men under Fang Baihua’s command were the elite among elites. If they set up camp relying on the facilities of a village or town, they could never fully clear out the idle onlookers around — and that would leave openings to exploit. As a matter of expedience, Zong Feixiao and Tie Tianying had chosen to establish an independent camp in military fashion, striving to keep track of every single person under their command and avoid infiltration by outsiders.
However vast the Ministry of Justice was, overseeing criminal matters across the entire realm, there were in total only seven chief constables, each one an outstanding talent. Tie Tianying was shrewd and capable, holding the fort within; Zong Feixiao, though he appeared burly and fierce in looks, was in fact just as meticulous in his thinking. These past few days he had led the constables in laying a tight net outside, and occasionally a stray bandit would be flushed out and added to the ranks of prisoners.
Though dealing with top-tier masters like Fang Baihua’s group still required deploying forces like Lin Ecan’s, it was precisely Zong Feixiao’s careful arrangements that had, step by step, effectively compressed the enemy’s room to flee.
The camp had already been set up at Siping Ridge for several days now. Over that time, scattered bandits had gradually been captured one after another, some of them once-famous figures of the old martial world. But for the men of the Ministry of Justice, capturing these men alone wasn’t enough.
This time, escorting Fang Qifo north, the openly stated orders given to Tie and Zong were simply to deliver Fang Qifo safely to the capital for trial. But as the two men saw it, if that were truly all there was to it, anyone could have handled such a task. Defeating Fang La had been Tong Guan’s achievement; defeating Fang Qifo had been Xin Xingzong’s. It was only natural for the military to claim these credits — but for the two of them, the real opportunity to distinguish themselves lay in capturing Fang Baihua and wiping out the remaining Yongle rebels.
The chief constables of the Ministry of Justice held considerable power in name, but in reality, they were a transitional rung between the local level and the central court. These men typically rose from the lower ranks, thoroughly familiar with practical matters, resourceful and formidable in martial skill — but within the court, such men were ultimately regarded merely as harsh enforcers, never quite counted among the truly high officials. In other words, they were “craftsmen,” not “administrators” — “warrior kings,” not “generals.”
The gap between the two was enormous. Many capable officers might spend their entire careers sitting at the rank of chief constable. But if one could cross that threshold and enter the central ranks of the Ministry, that would count as a true transformation — and afterward, when the time came to retire with honors, one could at least have a better title to one’s name.
“Learn skill in letters and arms to sell to the sovereign’s household” — but the gap between the civil and the martial paths was exactly this vast. Of course, given how the world worked, they didn’t find anything particularly wrong with it. The rank of chief constable, though not considered great relative to officials at the center, was still, to an ordinary person, an enormous position of authority.
Walking deep into the camp’s newly built shelter, Tie Tianying was at the table, eating a meal with wine. The lodging conditions weren’t great, but the food and drink were generous. Zong Feixiao had a large appetite but didn’t drink; he took a large bowl, filled it with rice, and wolfed down a full bowl before speaking.
“Only caught three today. We lost seven brothers, and thirteen were wounded. Nine of them refused to be taken alive, and all of them died.”
Tie Tianying took a sip of wine and gave a cold laugh. “Those who’ve survived this long know that once they reach the capital, there’s little hope for them. No wonder they’d rather not be taken alive.”
“Someone at Yu Town seems to have spotted signs of Fang Baihua’s group — someone clashed with the Overlord Blade people. They must have changed locations again. I plan to go take a look tonight.”
“Did you notify that fellow surnamed Lin?”
“That Lin Zongwu is a strange one — we told them, but they won’t reveal a thing to us, which is genuinely uncomfortable…” Zong Feixiao shook his head with a snort. “But we told them what needed telling regardless.”
Tie Tianying smiled. “They use us, and we use them too. These types are always mysterious about themselves — let them be, for now. As for the rest, we’ll deal with it once Fang Baihua’s found…” Neither man was a fool; his words were said casually, not really explaining anything to Zong Feixiao. After a slight pause, though, he added in a lower voice, “Demon Buddha Lin Ecan… he really was formidable back in the day…”
“That fat man…” Zong Feixiao thought it over and nodded. “His cultivation really is nothing to underestimate. He says he wants to challenge Zhou Tong — probably not just talk.”
“Hah.” Tie Tianying gave a scoffing laugh. “We’ll just have to see. That title of greatest under heaven at the Imperial Boxing Hall isn’t something one simply talks one’s way into.”
The two chatted a bit more; Tie Tianying had already quickly finished two bowls of rice and moved on to eating more slowly. As he picked at his side dishes, something else occurred to him, and he said offhandedly, “These past few days, people from the Secret Investigation Bureau have been asking around the local government offices about this whole affair.”
Tie Tianying narrowed his eyes, and after a moment, his expression returned to normal. “With something this big going on, it’s no surprise there’s some stir over there.”
“Not even a proper mandate, and these people are still stirring up trouble for no reason.”
“Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures.” Tie Tianying smiled. “Just look at the attitude from above — you can tell His Majesty doesn’t fully trust them either. Right now they only have the standing to observe from the sidelines. Once the northern campaign settles down, you’ll see what becomes of that lot. Even back when Chancellor Cai was at his height, he never had that kind of power. On the court, how could any one faction be allowed to dominate?”
Zong Feixiao nodded, then lowered his voice. “Not long ago, Liu Qinghe mentioned to me privately that the Secret Investigation Bureau might have been set up specifically to counter Chancellor Cai. In court, Chancellor Li can only rival Chancellor Cai in terms of moral integrity and reputation — but the one who’s truly formidable is Chancellor Qin. If he hadn’t retired back then, he might well be the only one capable of standing against Chancellor Cai today.”
“That’s not something you or I are in a position to know,” Tie Tianying said, likewise lowering his voice. “But speaking of it, think of how many cases we handled over the years connected to Chancellor Cai. His faction, with its power and influence, had a hand in no small amount of business with the Liao — how many of them were involved in that. If not for someone able to stand up to Chancellor Cai, this northern campaign would never have gotten off the ground.”
“Is Chancellor Cai also pushing for the northern campaign?”
“Chancellor Cai, Military Commissioner Tong — which of them doesn’t want to push for the campaign… They want to leave their names to posterity,” Tie Tianying said. “But the people following behind them may not feel the same way. If Chancellor Qin hadn’t suddenly stepped forward — retired for years, with nothing left to lose, and beat that whole lot into submission — who would have been willing to yield here, to give up the business with the Liao state? Chancellor Cai was also glad to see Chancellor Qin gain influence — with Chancellor Qin being formidable, Cai could go with the flow, tell his own family that His Majesty was determined on the campaign, and that Chancellor Qin wouldn’t give anyone face — no one dared cross him…”
He finished, then sighed again. “But then, in times like these, using such sharp methods — how many people like that have you ever seen die a natural death? Chancellor Qin’s faction is probably even more hated now than Chancellor Li’s.”
Zong Feixiao shook his head as well. Though they spoke as if discussing matters of state, in truth, it all came down to their displeasure at the Secret Investigation Bureau’s involvement. In their own domain, they had always been the authority; being managed by the higher-ups of the Ministry of Justice was one thing, but to have a small, barely-established office keeping tabs on them from the side — no one would find that pleasant.
“But this time the Bureau’s investigation has been rather thorough,” Zong Feixiao said after a long silence.
Tie Tianying frowned. “Thorough?”
“They’ve pulled a lot of material from the nearby county offices — looks like trivial stuff on the surface, meant not to draw our attention, but it includes the movements of local runners and constables, casualty reports, all of it. Someone even mentioned they went around checking outpatient records at nearby clinics… whoever’s handling this arranged it thoroughly, like a seasoned hand.”
“We’ve conducted this affair openly and aboveboard enough…” Tie Tianying pondered for a while. “What are they trying to accomplish?”
“Sikong Nan, Lin Zongwu, Wang Nantuo…” Zong Feixiao said quietly.
Tie Tianying’s gaze grew distant; after a moment’s thought, he met Zong Feixiao’s eyes. “Can they even afford to provoke those people?”
“Ever since the Liangshan affair last year, the Bureau’s attention to the martial underworld has grown stronger. In the past they had no people for it, and besides, they were too bookish to bother much with this sort of thing — but now, it seems, they have someone… That so-called Demon of the Mind, Ning Yi.”
“Heh…” Tie Tianying gave a short laugh but ultimately offered no comment.
“Don’t underestimate him too much. After the Liangshan affair, the name Demon of the Mind spread across the northern martial world. Just last year alone, Liu Qinghe knew of five or six groups who went to the capital hoping to assassinate him and make a name for themselves. All of them vanished without a trace.”
Among the seven chief constables of the Ministry of Justice, Liu Qinghe was the one responsible for the capital region, so his words naturally carried weight. But Tie Tianying shook his head. “With the Right Chancellor’s influence behind him, of course anyone going to the capital would end up like that — it has little to do with this Ning Yi’s own ability. From what I observed of the Liangshan affair, though the man is vicious and full of schemes, in his actual conduct he still carries the air of a scholar pulling strings from behind the scenes — probably just some strategist out of the chancellor’s household. With so many factions already involved in this mess, if he comes in with his bookish arrogance, not knowing his place… heh, who knows how that would end.”
Though Tie Tianying spoke of the Demon of the Mind with clear disdain, in truth he still understood the principle that one shouldn’t underestimate the man. Having worked in official circles for many years, he understood better than most just how ruthless scholars could be.
Men of the martial underworld lived lives on the edge of a blade, but even so, they still generally held to certain codes of honor. A true schemer among the scholar class, however, might speak endlessly of morality while employing methods that stopped at nothing. The Liangshan affair was proof enough — tens of thousands of men crushed by a series of schemes. Though the Ministry of Justice hadn’t been heavily involved, since the Bureau had handled that matter, Tie Tianying and the others had come to understand something of its implications through occasional glimpses. Many survivors still felt a lingering dread even after the fact; afterward, the martial world was shaken, and the name “Demon of the Mind” spread — unlike the reputations of ordinary martial-world figures, earned through fighting, this one’s fame had been built entirely on a mountain of human lives.
The Ministry of Justice, though also an arm of the government, would never dare stake a scheme on tens of thousands of lives. Those capable of manipulating that many lives were either the military acting on the battlefield, or scholars carrying out their schemes.
At this moment, with the two chief constables of the Ministry of Justice involved in this area near Siping Ridge, that alone was force enough to shake any faction of the martial underworld. But Sikong Nan was the former Sacred Maiden of the demonic cult, and the figures reemerging under her banner were of immeasurably high skill, with the shadow of some great family that no one dared touch behind them. And Fang Baihua’s faction, though now trapped in dire straits, was still the smoldering embers of the rebellion that had once shaken the south — a force that, even at its last gasp, had once been able to shake the very court, and was not to be underestimated.
In a situation like this, if that Demon of the Mind were to insert himself with some scheme beyond anyone’s guessing, the outcome, for them, would also be extremely difficult to predict. Though the Bureau currently held only the power of oversight, with no authority to command, who could say what thoughts that man harbored. The twists and turns of a scholar’s mind, connected as they were to everything else — if he truly wanted to do something, it was hard to know in advance.
Most of all, he simply hated the feeling of being watched by someone, held in check without them ever making their move — especially when the other party was a presence like the Demon of the Mind.
As they discussed the matter a while longer, Zong Feixiao finished eating and rested briefly before heading out to investigate the matter of Fang Baihua. Suddenly, someone came to report: “There’s a man outside claiming to be from the Secret Investigation Bureau, carrying a document from the Right Chancellor’s household, requesting an audience.”
Tie Tianying and Zong Feixiao exchanged a glance, both frowning deeply, both thinking the same thing: He’s really come?
They had both considered that the Bureau might be watching everything from the shadows, but neither had expected the man to come knocking so suddenly.
The Bureau held little compulsory authority at the local level; Tie Tianying and Zong Feixiao could certainly have refused to let the man in. But it’s better to offend a gentleman than a petty man, and given the Bureau’s way of doing things, with that Demon of the Mind possibly directing things behind the scenes, an outright refusal wasn’t wise either. Zong Feixiao took the document and asked, “Who is it that’s come?”
He looked it over carefully, then handed it to Tie Tianying: “You handle this one — I’m heading out.”
Looking at the name, the visitor was a personal retainer of the chancellor’s household, called Cheng Zhouhai. The two of them had just been discussing Ning Yi, and when the servant suddenly came to report, they couldn’t help but wonder if the visitor might be the Demon of the Mind himself. Seeing now that it wasn’t, neither treated it as a particularly big deal — mostly just finding it a bit odd. Even if Ning Yi himself had truly come, they wouldn’t have thought it all that serious.
Zong Feixiao went out the door; Tie Tianying instructed his men to tidy up the shelter, then had the visitor brought in.