Chapter 483: - Untitled

Hunmen, as the name suggested, was a sect that made its living stirring muddy waters. It belonged to neither black nor white, because neither side generally tolerated it. It could not even be called gray.

The “hun,” or muddiness, referred both to their trade and to their identities. Neither could be allowed to become clear, or they tended to die very suddenly.

Earlier, the old drunkard had already analyzed the identities of Count Pingye’s party of three, yet the swordswoman, monk, and scholar had behaved as though they had heard none of it. Any normal person, after hearing the drunkard’s warnings and then seeing how calmly Zheng Fan’s group reacted to their grand introductions, would at least have begun to feel uneasy.

And after the Sword Saint pierced the swordswoman’s sword with nothing but a fingertip and then drew Longyuan, anyone who still could not recognize the three of them would have to be astonishingly stupid.

Yet these three truly had not “seen” it.

There was a level of deception in which, before deceiving anyone else, you first deceived yourself. They had clearly entered that state.

In other words, the three of them had begun operating toward some particular goal, and to achieve it they needed the identity of “Zheng Fanli” as well as the identity of “the Sword Saint’s disciple.”

Those two identities would then ultimately lead to a third: “Count Pingye.”

The jianghu had always known that a man called Zheng Fanli existed, but he had never left behind any fixed trail. The Sword Saint’s disciple was even more mysterious. Since the battle at Snow Sea Pass, the Sword Saint himself had almost vanished from the jianghu and had not appeared again.

By using two identities no one could verify, the three could create the illusion that they were acting according to “Count Pingye’s will.”

What exactly were they planning?

Zheng Fan looked at the drunkard. “Is there a way to break it?”

“Time should do it. Or perhaps a sudden enlightenment,” the drunkard answered immediately.

“A sudden enlightenment?” Count Pingye sounded puzzled.

The drunkard promptly slapped himself on the forehead. “Hit them here.”

That was certainly direct.

Count Pingye called to the Sword Saint ahead. “Since they’re impersonating the two of us, they obviously intend to use us as cover. Smack them awake first. Draw a little blood while you’re at it. No need to be gentle.”

The Sword Saint did not answer.

He simply drew his sword again.

Watching the Sword Saint use a sword was, truthfully, a pleasure. There was nothing flashy about it. Everything was clean and decisive.

His sword stabbed toward the monk.

The monk was already wounded, but he forced himself forward to meet the attack. The golden light that had previously surrounded his body was now ragged and fragmented.

Longyuan shot straight toward his face.

The monk pressed his palms together, attempting to catch the blade between them.

Bang!

He actually caught Longyuan.

But the sword trembled, and a burst of sword intent shot from the blade and struck the monk squarely in the forehead.

Hum!

The monk collapsed.

The next instant, the Sword Saint flashed toward the scholar.

The scholar pulled out his signal arrow, but he was far too slow. Longyuan flew from the Sword Saint’s hand and cut the arrow cleanly in two. Then the Sword Saint controlled the flying sword and called it back. Longyuan flipped over in midair, and the pommel smashed directly into the scholar’s forehead.

Thud.

The scholar dropped to the ground, dragging down the swordswoman he had been supporting.

The Sword Saint recalled Longyuan with his left hand, stepped forward, crouched, and slapped his right palm against the swordswoman’s forehead.

All three were unconscious.

The Sword Saint slowly stood and returned Longyuan to its sheath.

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

Count Pingye applauded. “I really do love watching you fight. Every time I imagine myself in your place, I get this feeling that I’m some peerless master too.”

The Sword Saint glanced at him. “If you keep smoking tobacco and never stumble across some miraculous opportunity, you’ll have a very hard time truly entering the higher halls of cultivation in this lifetime.”

The road of cultivation was long. Regardless of the path, anyone capable of entering the Third Grade was a dragon or phoenix among men. Even the ruler of a state would honor such a person with the position of guest retainer.

Count Pingye smiled. “I think I work pretty hard.”

He simply did not enjoy the bitter, hate-driven style of cultivation. In this life, he had no exterminated clan to avenge, and he had seven Demon Kings at his side. Once you had people supporting you, it became difficult to grit your teeth and struggle alone to the bitter end. There simply was not that same sense of urgency.

Besides, once the cavalry under his command doubled again, he could sit safely inside Snow Sea Pass. What great expert could possibly get through all that just to interrupt him while he listened to Miss Ruqing sing “Eighteen Touches”?

A man ought to enjoy life while he could.

More importantly, although Zheng Fan lacked the motivation of some “blood feud yet unavenged,” he was still reasonably disciplined.

The three Hunmen members were still unconscious, so Count Pingye’s gaze naturally fell on the drunkard and the accountant.

The drunkard understood immediately.

Before Zheng Fan could ask, he said, “My lord, this humble one is Fu Shun’er, an elder of the Lotus Gang of the State of Yun.”

The State of Yun was one of the many small states, and its relations with Great Yan were fairly good. When the Marquis of Jingnan had borrowed a road through the smaller states to enter Jin, both Yun and An had cooperated readily.

There had naturally been an element of coercion, but the deed was done. Once Nanmen Pass and Jin territory had fallen into Yan hands, both states immediately sent their heirs to Yanjing as hostages and adopted the posture of vassals toward Yan.

Many famous sects could be found in these small states. The reason was simple: some sects had found it difficult to survive within the original territories of the Four Great States, while others had committed offenses there and been forced to relocate.

Count Pingye looked toward the Sword Saint, silently asking a question.

What did the Lotus Gang do?

Zheng Fan had spent his life in the army, not the jianghu.

The Sword Saint gave a light cough but did not answer. He had indeed lived in the jianghu, but the jianghu he inhabited was not quite the same one ordinary jianghu people knew.

The princess spoke instead. “The Lotus Gang specializes in collecting secrets and private information. The sect originally grew out of Lotus Mouth, which is where its name came from.”

Lotus Mouth was not a place name, but a type of local performance, something like the “Fengyang Flower Drum” Zheng Fan knew. It was essentially a traveling performance troupe, except instead of singing and dancing, they told stories and anecdotes from all across the land to a rhythmic beat.

It had originated in the State of Qian, then later expanded into the teahouse storytelling business. At its height, nearly every storyteller in the teahouses of Shangjing City came from the Lotus Sect. Even if you had not been trained by them, anyone wishing to work as a storyteller still had to obtain a Lotus Sect credential.

Unfortunately for them, during the previous imperial succession in Qian, the Lotus Sect master of that generation had backed one of the princes and mobilized the storytellers under him to sing that prince’s praises.

That prince failed to take the throne.

The new emperor naturally came to despise the Lotus Sect.

It was inevitable. Anyone capable of sitting on the dragon throne could hardly fail to understand the importance of controlling public opinion.

Under the Qian court’s suppression, the Lotus Sect rapidly declined. It lost nearly all of its base in Qian, while its core members were hunted down one by one by the Silver-Armored Guard and thrown into prison. In the end, the few remaining senior members escaped to the State of Yun and preserved the sect there.

But after its disgrace in Qian, the other states were hardly foolish enough to let the sect grow powerful within their borders again. Cut off from the masses, the Lotus Sect found another path: it went upscale, selling intelligence and the private affairs of famous people, becoming something akin to a jianghu sect of professional know-it-alls.

“What brings you here?” Count Pingye asked.

The drunkard immediately answered, “To visit ancient sites and pay respects to the worthies of old.”

Count Pingye nodded. “What brings you here?”

Fu Shun’er’s lips moved.

Clearly, he was struggling with himself. Soon, he gritted his teeth. “I dare not deceive Your Lordship. This humble one was hired to come here. My employer ordered me to Litian City to investigate the mystery surrounding the death of the Marquis of Jingnan’s wife.”

Zheng Fan’s eyes turned cold in an instant.

Fu Shun’er immediately began banging his head against the floor.

“My lord, I truly don’t know who hired me! The person paid the deposit through an intermediary and never showed their face. I have absolutely no intention of protecting my client or concealing anything for them. I don’t have that kind of professional integrity! I genuinely don’t know!”

Fu Shun’er could hardly have been more candid. From his observations, he knew that Count Pingye might appear easygoing, but he was the sort of man who could smile at you while twisting your head off.

Count Pingye sat down again on the chair beside him.

He was about to enter the capital, and now someone had hired the Lotus Gang to investigate the cause of Dujuan’s death. Zheng Fan did not believe there was no connection.

Whatever else might be said of Fu Shun’er, his earlier ability to read people suggested he was a capable member of the Lotus Sect.

And that was precisely what made Zheng Fan uncomfortable.

Obviously, the Marquis of Jingnan could not have been the one who hired Fu Shun’er.

Which meant that after all this time, someone wanted to use the circumstances of Dujuan’s death to stir up trouble again.

Yet he had no way of knowing who was behind it.

Zheng Fan believed Fu Shun’er.

Anyone who intended to make use of this matter would never dare expose their identity.

If they did, they would inevitably face the fury of both the Jingnan Army and the Marquis of Jingnan himself.

The Sword Saint pointed at the accountant. “He’s from the Back Mountain.”

The Back Mountain of the State of Qian, once the Daoist sanctuary of Master Cang.

The accountant gave a bitter smile and knelt. “This one is Liu Yang. My master was once of the Back Mountain, but after being expelled for an offense, he went to the State of Yun and accepted me as his disciple. I myself am a native of Yun.”

In other words, he had nothing to do with Qian.

And if secrecy had truly been the goal, there would have been no reason to send a Qi Refiner with such an obvious Back Mountain lineage along on the journey.

Fu Shun’er remained kneeling, waiting for Count Pingye to ask what he had discovered.

But Zheng Fan never asked.

He simply sat there.

He sat for a very long time.

Eventually, hoofbeats sounded outside. Gao Yi had arrived with thirty riders to meet them.

“Count.”

Gao Yi spotted the carriage, dismounted, and entered the wine shop.

Count Pingye stood. “Take them all.”

Then he looked at Fu Shun’er and the accountant. “Tie them up.”

Fu Shun’er immediately acknowledged the order and let out a long breath of relief.

The accountant hesitated, but in the end he did not resist as his hands and feet were bound.

The three still-unconscious Hunmen members were taken away as well.

Zheng Fan would hand those three over to the Blind Man.

Outside the wine shop, he looked up at the road leading into the mountain.

He had originally planned to visit the pavilion up there today, but this business had delayed him and ruined his mood.

On the return journey, the carriage rocked gently along.

The princess wiped Count Pingye’s neck with a damp cloth and asked softly, “Husband, why didn’t you question Fu Shun’er?”

“Because there was no need.”

“Didn’t you tell me that even you never fully understood what happened to the Marquis of Jingnan’s wife?”

“Stop wiping.”

Zheng Fan reached out, caught Xiong Liqing’s hand, and closed his eyes, making it clear that he did not wish to speak anymore.

There were far too many suspicious points surrounding Dujuan’s death.

First was her identity as a member of the Silver-Armored Guard.

Second, the Marquis of Jingnan had been away campaigning against the Savages on the snowfields at the time. Why, then, had Dujuan chosen to entrust her newborn child to the Sword Saint rather than anyone else?

And finally, why had she taken her own life on Tianhu Mountain?

Among the common people, the story was that the Marquis of Jingnan had killed too many people and slaughtered his own blood relatives, so his wife’s death had been Heaven’s punishment.

Those who knew a few more secrets and were aware that Dujuan had belonged to the Silver-Armored Guard naturally assumed it had been a Qian scheme of revenge.

But beyond them was another level of people who looked at the matter differently.

Xiong Liqing, for example, had once heard her imperial brother say that unless the Emperor of Qian had leeches swimming in his brain, he would never make such a stupid move.

Her brother had also taught her that many affairs might look complicated in the middle, but there was no need to obsess over the process. Simply look at who benefited most afterward.

Xiong Liqing pursed her lips.

Who had benefited most?

Now, of the two great marquises of north and south, the northern marquis’s Commandery Princess had been sent to Yanjing, while the southern marquis’s son lived under a hidden identity and could not even meet his father.

The Zhenbei Army had been dismantled.

The Yan court was drawing the administration of Jin territory back under central control.

Back then, Emperor Yan had not hesitated to hand over military power and place absolute trust in the two marquises of north and south, allowing them to trample the great clans beneath their horses. In all the ages, had there ever been such an astonishing tale of trust between sovereign and ministers?

But three years had passed since the great clans were crushed.

Emperor Yan, who had once seemed to sit upon trust itself rather than the dragon throne, now had the situation firmly under control.

The afternoon wind blew without cease.

Count Pingye lifted the carriage curtain and looked back at Tianhu Mountain as it gradually receded behind them.

“He even prolonged his life,” he said slowly.

...

The eastern gate of Litian City stood wide open.

News that Count Pingye was entering Litian City had already been delivered by his personal guards on fast horses.

Although the Prefect of Litian and the city’s highest officials had not come outside the walls to receive him, many mid-ranking officials had already made preparations.

Admittedly, the Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass alone would not have merited such treatment. But Count Pingye was traveling to the capital for an imperial audience, and there were simply too many halos around his name.

Twenty li outside the city, his personal-guard column waited in place.

The carriage slowly approached.

Count Pingye stepped down. A soldier came forward carrying golden armor.

The princess remained inside the carriage to change her clothes.

“Three Hunmen members?”

Not far away, the Blind Man had just taken custody of the three.

He also noticed Fu Shun’er and the accountant, both similarly bound.

The Blind Man shook his head and told Gao Yi, “Leave a detachment specifically to guard them. I’ll interrogate them tonight.”

“Yes, Mr. Bei.”

At that moment, the Savage King approached the Blind Man and lowered his voice. “I think this is going too far.”

“What do you mean?” the Blind Man asked.

“I mean there’s no need to be this aggressive. If all we wanted was to warn the court not to rush into taking away Snow Sea Pass’s local administrative authority, what happened in Yingdu was already beautifully done. We really don’t need to create more trouble here in Litian City.”

“Isn’t another layer of insurance better?”

“No. Why pretend with me? Even if the Yingdu affair hadn’t conveniently landed right in our path, could we not have found a better pretext? No, more precisely, couldn’t you people have planned a better pretext from the start? Why here? Why this? I thought we were only going to cast a shadow, leave a great blank space for people to ponder. Those who understood would understand. But what are we doing now? If it really was that person who did it, aren’t we stabbing the knife straight in? This isn’t worth it. Not worth it at all. It’s a loss. A terrible loss.”

The Blind Man nodded.

Seeing this, the Savage King immediately said, “Right? You think so too. Then while there’s still time, go persuade the Count. We can still turn back. Otherwise, if we push too hard, this whole deal could cost us more than we gain.”

“Have you ever considered that not making this deal might be even more profitable?”

“What?”

The Blind Man smiled. “Once we enter the capital, we can declare our loyalty. So what if we hand over Snow Sea Pass’s local administrative authority? Master’s official rank is bound to keep rising. If Little Sixth ascends the throne one day, Master can climb smoothly with him. Even if another prince becomes emperor, as long as we know how to conduct ourselves and the new emperor isn’t an idiot, he won’t make life too difficult for a frontier general like Master. There’s obviously an easier road available, isn’t there?”

“This…”

“When all is said and done, it’s because the Marquis of Jingnan has treated Master far too well.”

“What kind of reason is that?” The Savage King looked incredulous. “I’m talking power politics with you, and you’re talking to me about loyalty and friendship?”

“Heh. Everything we do is so we can live happily. Let the floods rage outside. We only care whether we ourselves are satisfied.”

The Savage King scratched his hair and sighed helplessly. “Then what about the objective? The plan?”

The Blind Man took an orange from his sleeve and began peeling it. “Ah, the objective, the political maneuvering, even protecting local autonomy, all of those are just excuses we found to justify doing this. They make us feel a little less sentimental about it. Truthfully, even if the court really sent local officials to Snow Sea Pass, we’d have a thousand ways to make sure they could never get their hands on actual local power.”

The Blind Man finished peeling the orange, put one segment into his own mouth, then peeled off another and held it toward Gou Moli.

“Ah. Open up.”

Gou Moli opened his mouth in irritation.

Then he watched the Blind Man put that segment into his own mouth too.

...

What happened next stunned the officials and commoners of Litian City who had gathered outside the walls to welcome Count Pingye.

Count Pingye rode a Pixiu at the head of the procession.

Behind him came his personal cavalry.

A carriage traveled in the center of the column, and everyone could guess who sat inside.

“Raise the banners!”

The six riders at the front raised white funeral banners.

White mourning cloth hung from weapons and armor.

The carriage was draped in plain white.

In the fourth month of the third year of Yongping, Count Pingye entered Litian City in mourning.

————

Good night.

[End of Chapter 483]