Chapter 442: Wine, Sword, Dragon, Tiger

Restoring a eunuch’s bird was a technical job.

It was different from sewing a severed finger back on.

That, comparatively speaking, was much simpler.

It was said that back during the Great Xia Dynasty, there had been no unified procedure for castrating palace eunuchs.

That had led to all sorts of situations.

Some people born with incomplete development were accepted into the palace as eunuchs without further treatment.

Others had been castrated incompletely—for example, losing only the testicles.

After entering palace service, some of those eunuchs later ate better food.

Others encountered fortuitous opportunities.

Perhaps they practiced martial arts.

Perhaps they cultivated Qi Refiner methods.

Whatever the reason, their bodies received something close to a “second development.”

And then certain eunuchs discovered, to their astonishment, that they could just barely perform as men again.

Or perhaps they still could not complete the entire process but they could skip a few steps and force out the end result.

The most famous inner-palace scandal of the Great Xia era the one said to have endangered the purity of the imperial bloodline itself had begun because of exactly this problem.

Learning from history by the late Great Xia period, and later after the Four Great States of the East emerged, every state independently developed extraordinarily strict inspection systems for the eunuch profession.

At the same time they also standardized the procedure into something brutally thorough.

First the testicles absolutely had to go.

Second the bird itself had to be beheaded.

And not merely the head.

The whole neck had to come off with it.

That completely eliminated the possibility of “second development.”

At regular intervals, the eunuchs inside the palace also had to line up for physical inspection.

And if the examiner discovered:

*Well, well. Look at you. Something actually started growing back.*

Then sorry.

Another cut.

That procedure was called **trimming the stubble.**

Castration was skilled work.

Especially under the medical conditions of this era.

Do it badly, and the wound festered.

Then the person died.

In his previous life, when Count Zheng watched television dramas or read historical fiction, he often saw characters dramatically castrate themselves before entering the palace.

It looked vicious enough.

But in reality, very few people truly did it themselves.

Among common folk there were usually specialized castration masters.

Experienced.

Steady-handed.

Clean work.

After all that was literally how they earned their bird-money.

When Zhao Cheng was young, he had once been trafficked and sold.

For a time, he had worked as an apprentice inside one such castration house.

Chu did not use eunuchs only inside the imperial palace.

By law, the great noble clans of Chu were also permitted to keep eunuchs in their households.

So within Chu becoming a eunuch was actually a fairly important “employment channel.”

There were two reasons Zhao Cheng had taken the knife to himself.

First, the circumstances at the time had not allowed him to carry a cash gift around searching for a trustworthy master.

Second he had experience.

He trusted his own technique.

“Heh-heh, Master, what you just said is a little...”

“I don’t like deceiving people.”

Even though he had only just finished deceiving the Princess.

“Besides, even if I wanted to deceive you, I wouldn’t use something like this.

“It would have the opposite effect.

“You’d think I was treating you like an idiot.

“Toying with you.

“The reason I dare say this is because I can actually do it.

“Whether you believe me— is up to you.

“You’re a smart man.”

Zhao Cheng knelt down and kowtowed several times.

For some reason he suddenly wanted to believe this impossible thing.

At the same time a faint heat began rising in his heart.

A man who dared hold a Princess directly in his arms what else could such a man possibly fail to do?

At the end of the day this was a world where Qi Refiners could calculate national fortunes and sever dragon veins.

Where the Sword Saint could stand before Snow Sea Pass and cut down a thousand cavalry alone.

Where barbarian Martial Artists could charge back and forth through formations of several thousand armored riders.

Because people like them existed this world possessed many more possibilities than an ordinary world ever could.

Naturally, Count Zheng truly had not been bluffing Zhao Cheng.

After A’Ming’s latest advancement, he had indeed gained the ability to perform a **First Embrace**.

Only there were currently problems with that ability.

According to A’Ming, at his present level of strength he should originally have been able to openly create several vampire disciples and descendants of his own.

But now things were different.

His strength was effectively restrained at a fixed boundary.

Because of Zheng Fan, A’Ming’s power could reach only one constant value within this level.

It could not fluctuate upward.

He could not temporarily erupt beyond his limit.

Nor could he use external stimulation or sheer subjective initiative to force his strength higher.

To explain it scientifically what a vampire did during a First Embrace was essentially copy his own blood sequence, then transplant that sequence into the target.

That was also why the more powerful a vampire was the stronger the vampire created through his First Embrace would be.

But copying one’s own blood sequence and transferring it outward was effectively making a rubbing of one’s own normal state.

You were competing against yourself.

You needed some external force or you had to forcibly burst beyond your usual limit so that for a short period you became stronger than the normal you.

Only then could you imprint that “you” and transfer it into another person.

The difficulty had always been there.

No matter how strong a vampire became when performing a First Embrace, he still needed to become slightly stronger than his ordinary self.

A’Ming could not burst beyond himself.

The Demon Kings had drunk one another’s blood.

Researched new drugs.

Even Count Zheng’s Pixiu had been sampled so many times nobody could remember the number.

In the end every experiment produced the same conclusion.

The ceiling remained there.

Unbreakable.

An almost suffocating barrier.

Because of that barrier, the Demon Kings had no choice but to remain permanently bound to Zheng Fan.

And because of that same barrier—

A’Ming could not perform a perfect First Embrace.

An imperfect First Embrace inevitably meant side effects.

Intelligence collapsing.

The soul eroding.

Things of that sort.

What it created might very well be a monster without reason.

And that monster probably would not live very long either.

That touched upon the issue of **life completeness.**

This was not something where achieving seventy or eighty percent meant the result could still be used after a fashion.

Here even the tiniest missing fraction was unacceptable.

Power was power.

But in terms of life completeness, the First Embrace A’Ming could currently provide could not even compare with an earthworm.

Still when a person received a vampire’s First Embrace, damaged flesh on the body could regenerate.

So Count Zheng did not feel he had deceived Zhao Cheng.

Worst case someday he would simply let the eunuch choose for himself.

“Master, do you intend to continue staying here, or will you leave?” Zhao Cheng asked carefully.

“Arrange for me to leave first,” Zheng Fan said.

He could also depart using the Fan Clan’s channels.

But leaving through Zhao Cheng would be more convenient.

Zhao Cheng could claim he was sending someone out to purchase goods for the Princess.

And in the future that same route would make returning easier.

“Yes, Master.

“This servant will make the arrangements immediately.”

In the end Count Zheng followed a purchasing convoy out of the imperial villa toward Zhou County.

The villa itself was not short of provisions.

But anything meant for the Princess’s personal table naturally had to be the freshest possible.

So dedicated buyers traveled to Zhou County every day once in the morning and once in the evening.

After reaching Zhou County, Zheng Fan separated from the convoy and entered an inn.

The inn was secretly another Fan Clan property.

It also served as one of the family’s contact points.

Zheng Fan entered.

Exchanged the proper countersign with the shopkeeper.

And was immediately arranged into a superior guest room.

The shopkeeper bowed and withdrew.

Zheng Fan had an attendant bring up bathwater.

He washed inside the wooden tub.

Dried himself.

Had only just found clean clothes and changed into them when A’Ming returned with Brainless and Unhappy.

“Haa...

“Master, that scared the hell out of me.”

A’Ming truly had been frightened.

Originally, everyone should have traveled together from Xiayong County to Zhou County.

Who could have expected the Azure Luan Army to intercept them halfway?

Count Zheng had been forced straight into the imperial villa and had no choice but to pick up the **domineering CEO script**.

A’Ming, meanwhile, had taken Brainless and Unhappy and picked up the **coolie script**.

Judging from how quickly they had returned they had probably slipped away somewhere along the route.

Siniang had separated from the convoy as soon as they left Xiayong.

She had gone to find Xue San and rearrange the plan.

“It’s fine.

“I’m back.”

Zheng Fan smiled.

Then waved one hand.

“Everyone’s exhausted.

“Rest first.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Yes, Count.”

Count Zheng did not sleep especially soundly that night.

Not because he had visited the imperial villa and met the Princess.

The problem was after leaving the enormous bed inside the Fan Residence his sleep quality had collapsed.

**It is easy to go from frugality to luxury.

Hard to return from luxury to frugality.**

Half awake.

Half asleep.

Wake up.

Drink some water.

Sleep again.

Repeat several times.

Eventually dawn finally arrived.

Zhou County was a tiny county town.

One could only say that although the sparrow was small, it still possessed all its organs.

Truthfully, the place had very little atmosphere.

During wartime, it was the sort of town armies might not even bother looking at twice.

But because of the coming wedding, every convoy traveling from Ying Capital toward the imperial villa had to pass through here.

So lately this tiny county town had become unusually lively.

Zheng Fan was in no hurry to eat breakfast.

After washing up, he first opened the window.

He rested one hand against the frame and watched the pedestrians on the street below.

He looked for a while.

Just as Count Zheng was preparing to step back, light a cigarette, then find something to eat he unexpectedly noticed a man carrying a sword.

The man walked with a slight limp.

One step high.

One step low.

A sword lay across his back.

A travel bundle hung from one hand.

In the other he held a large flatbread.

He walked while taking bites from it.

Perhaps Zheng Fan’s gaze triggered his senses.

The man stopped.

Count Zheng was also someone who practiced martial arts.

Naturally, he understood that the stronger a person became, the more sensitive they were to attention from the outside world.

A stare carrying obvious intent was very easy to notice.

But Count Zheng did not avoid him.

He remained beside the window.

Continued looking directly at the swordsman.

The swordsman raised his head.

Searched.

Then found Zheng Fan standing at the window.

At first his brows furrowed slightly.

Then, confusion entered his eyes.

But in the end—

Hero Chen still split into a wide grin.

...

Meeting an old friend in a foreign land a happy thing.

Zheng Fan told A’Ming where he was going.

Then headed downstairs alone.

With Hero Chen nearby—

Count Zheng felt his personal safety should be more than adequately guaranteed.

After all—

Hero Chen’s character had already been proven.

Hero Chen waited outside the inn.

When he saw Zheng Fan emerge, the smile on his face became even brighter.

Zheng Fan walked over.

Raised a fist.

And lightly punched Hero Chen’s shoulder.

“That smile is way too exaggerated.”

“Master Yao told me I should smile more.

“And when something genuinely happy happens, I should smile even more.

“He said that if a person becomes as cold as a sword— then it is no longer the person controlling the sword.”

“That actually sounds somewhat reasonable.

“But that old vegetable stalk is best at talking.

“Spring, summer, autumn, winter, silkworm pupae, swimming fish— he can spin any damned thing into a grand essay of principle and make you think it sounds profound.

“Master Yao is here too?”

Hero Chen shook his head.

“Master Yao is now Governor-General of the Three Frontiers.

“He is not here.

“I escorted someone else here on his behalf to deliver a gift.”

“Oh.

“So this is official business?”

“Not really.

“I’m only running an errand for Master Yao.

“And the gift itself is merely a lyric poem.

“The Chu princess about to marry once formally acknowledged Master Yao as her teacher.

“It was only nominal.

“But the teacher-disciple relationship still exists.

“So at a time like this— the teacher ought to make some gesture.”

“Mm.”

Yao Zizhan was called the Literary Saint of Qian.

He had always loved wandering and possessed friends everywhere.

Across the Four Great States there was hardly a place where he lacked old companions or kindred spirits.

“And the other person?” Zheng Fan asked.

If someone else was still traveling with Hero Chen then things would become inconvenient for Zheng Fan.

“That person fell ill after we first entered Chu.

“Couldn’t adapt to the climate.

“He’s still back there receiving treatment.

“So I continued alone.”

“Good.

“One person is easier.

“Come on.

“We haven’t met in a long time anyway.

“I’ll buy you a meal.”

Hero Chen did not refuse.

Their relationship already permitted such things.

“Truthfully, after delivering the gift this time, I had planned to head north to Snow Sea Pass and find you.

“I know the Sword Saint of Jin is staying there.”

Hero Chen was obsessed with the sword.

And the Sword Saint was the model every swordsman beneath Heaven looked toward.

Back when the Four Great Swordsmen were still spoken of together the Sword Saint had merely been one among four.

But after the battle at Snow Sea Pass he had surpassed the other three.

He now practically stood alone as a category unto himself.

“No problem.

“When the time comes, we’ll go back together.

“I’m telling you— at Snow Sea Pass, he lives next door to me with his wife and child.

“We’re extremely close.

“Introducing you will be easy.

“When the time comes, I’ll have him dig out all the techniques he keeps at the bottom of his chest and teach them to you.”

As he spoke—

Zheng Fan draped one arm over Hero Chen’s shoulder and began walking with him.

Today really was a damned fine day.

Open a window for some air and Hero Chen simply walked beneath it.

Count Zheng was currently short on manpower.

Hero Chen had practically delivered himself at the perfect possible moment.

Setting aside their first meeting, when Hero Chen had nearly killed him with one sword ever since then, Hero Chen had basically become Count Zheng’s timely rain.

What Count Zheng liked most was playing with honest people.

“My intuition tells me you’re being this enthusiastic because this is Chu territory and you...”

“Yes.

“I want to use you.”

“Oh.

“All right.”

“Good.

“Let’s eat here.

“This should be the highest-class restaurant in the whole county.”

Zhou County was not large.

This **Drunken Wind Restaurant** genuinely was the biggest restaurant in town.

But if it had been placed in Xiayong it would have been nothing special.

The Fan Clan loved extravagance.

But that extravagance was not without usefulness.

Siniang had once said that the Fan Clan’s spending habits effectively kept the entire economy of Xiayong City alive.

Nobody knew how many commoners inside Xiayong depended on Fan Clan business to survive.

If the Fan Clan had practiced strict thrift kept its wealth hidden lived quietly and inconspicuously then Xiayong City would probably be almost as sleepy as Zhou County.

Zheng Fan understood what Siniang meant.

It was probably similar to the circulation of money in later generations.

Money was not necessarily best when all of it was stored away and buried in some cellar.

Snow Sea Pass was actually similar.

The Fan Clan’s extravagance meant more than half the people of Xiayong were constantly working to satisfy Fan needs.

The silver they earned was then spent again at Fan-owned shops throughout the city.

And the money flowed back into the Fan Clan’s hands.

The soldiers of Snow Sea Pass also received extremely generous treatment.

Their pay followed Jingnan Army standards.

Festivals and holidays came with additional benefits.

But speaking plainly for dozens of li around Snow Sea Pass in every direction, there was no real town large enough to matter.

So after the soldiers and their families received their pay where could they spend it?

Inside the city at businesses owned by Count Pingye Residence.

Inside Drunken Wind Restaurant, Zheng Fan chose a second-floor table beside the window.

He and Hero Chen sat facing one another.

Count Zheng ordered several local specialties.

Then a pot of wine.

Hero Chen did not understand social niceties.

So Count Zheng personally poured for him.

The two lightly clinked cups.

Drank.

Then Count Zheng asked:

“You’re delivering the gift tomorrow?”

Hero Chen shook his head.

“We make the exchange here.”

“Oh?

“Where?”

Hero Chen blinked.

“Here.

“Inside Drunken Wind Restaurant.”

As he spoke—

Hero Chen drew another chopstick from the holder.

Laid it sideways across the top.

Then pointed to it.

“This is the signal.”

Count Zheng’s hand, still holding his wine cup trembled slightly.

He asked:

“Why does this look like secret agents meeting?”

**Agents** was the common term used for personnel serving the various intelligence yamens.

Hero Chen nodded.

“The person coming to receive the gift is from Phoenix Nest.”

“...”

Zheng Fan.

As he spoke, Hero Chen drew an envelope from inside his robe and placed it on the table.

Judging by the thickness there was probably more than one poem inside.

Zheng Fan drew in a breath.

Suddenly, he almost found the situation funny.

He pointed at himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You were meeting an operative from the Chu intelligence service and you somehow never thought to mention it?

Hero Chen looked at Zheng Fan with genuine confusion.

“You didn’t know?”

“How would I know?”

Count Zheng was baffled.

“I thought you knew what I came here to do.

“That you were specifically waiting here for me.

“Otherwise, how could it be such a coincidence?

“I walked beneath your inn— and you happened to be standing at the second-floor window watching me.”

“This...

“This genuinely was coincidence.”

“I thought everything was already under your control.

“So I didn’t intend to resist.

“I was planning to cooperate.”

“...”

Count Zheng.

Zheng Fan believed him.

Hero Chen truly had not intended to draw his sword against Zheng Fan.

He had simply gone through the process and even placed the envelope directly in front of him.

Whether it contained poetry or something else—

Zheng Fan could have opened it and taken whatever he wanted.

Because Hero Chen had once sworn to Zheng Fan that he would never raise a sword against him.

Hero Chen was a man of Qian.

He would not help Zheng Fan kill Qian people.

But if Zheng Fan wanted to capture *him* he could accept that.

Count Zheng found himself completely speechless.

He stood.

Planning to leave first.

Better not remain here until the Phoenix Nest people actually arrived.

But just as Count Zheng rose—

Hero Chen’s sword, which had been removed and placed against the chair beside him suddenly began trembling.

“What now?

“What does that mean?

“You’re drawing a sword against me?”

Zheng Fan found the entire thing ridiculous.

Hero Chen shook his head.

“A sword meets a kindred friend— and sings in response.”

Meaning the sword had sensed a “friend.”

So it instinctively trembled to call out.

Count Zheng did not use a sword.

He did not understand such things particularly well.

So he asked directly:

“Who did it sense?”

Hero Chen answered:

“In this world, who else could make nearly every spiritual sword treat him as a friend?”

Hearing that question three words immediately surfaced inside Count Zheng’s mind:

**Swordsmith of Chu!**

...

At that moment, outside the restaurant the Swordsmith of Chu accompanied a middle-aged man walking toward the entrance.

The middle-aged man walked in front.

The Swordsmith remained half a step behind.

“Drunken Wind Restaurant.

“Sir, this is the place, correct?”

“Yes.

“This is it.”

The middle-aged man nodded.

Then smiled.

“Heh.

“I genuinely cannot wait to see Master Yao’s new lyric.”

[End of Chapter 442]