Chapter 742: Sacrificial Offerings

The Sword Saint leaned against a pillar with Longyuan in his arms, watching Zheng Fan sit in front of him.

This was not the first time he had seen Zheng Fan draw.

Charcoal pencil.

Clean, distinct lines.

The last time had been at Snow Sea Pass, when Marquis Zheng suddenly felt inspired and sat in the courtyard drawing an orange tree.

Once finished, he had asked the Sword Saint to critique it.

Back then, Gou Moli had praised the painting as though it were a heavenly masterpiece, piling flattery upon flattery without end.

The Sword Saint had only said:

It lacked spirit.

At the time... the Sword Saint still carried a certain lofty pride.

But Marquis Zheng had never possessed much professional purity in this life.

He directly asked:

"If your descendants were going to keep one portrait of you, which kind would you want?"

The Sword Saint hesitated.

Then pointed toward the orange tree painting.

No one wanted future descendants remembering an ancestor only through some abstract artistic impression.

If possible... one still preferred one's face rendered a little more realistically.

And now... what Zheng Fan had drawn across the board... was a vast sheet of ice.

At the corners of the image, groups of Savages knelt in worship.

At the center... beneath the ice... stood the shadow of a human figure.

The entire picture carried an oppressive weight.

Zheng Fan set down the charcoal pencil.

This was a scene he had reconstructed from bits of information gathered earlier and what Liaofan had revealed the day before yesterday.

The details were certainly badly wrong.

What did the person beneath the ice actually look like?

Naked?

Clothed?

Armored?

Did he have a weapon beside him?

What color was his hair?

Did he have the face of a Savage?

Or the face of someone from all Xia?

None of that was known.

After speaking the day before yesterday, Liaofan had fallen into a deep sleep.

He had awakened once midway through, drunk a little porridge, sat blankly beside the bed for a time... then fallen asleep again.

Zheng Fan did not question him for more details.

The little monk's mental state was terrible.

Better to wait until the Blind Man arrived and let him decide how to handle it.

But one thing... could now be confirmed.

The prophecy... was real.

Hu Bamei's prophecy had also seemed to mention ice.

Awakening.

And the descent of a Demon King.

In that respect... what Liaofan and his master had seen provided confirmation.

More importantly... the thing had already opened its eyes.

That meant it was alive.

Put another way... it had already... descended.

What had Liaofan meant when he said the ice cracked?

Did the person beneath the ice break it?

Or had something else caused the fracture?

Could he leave that layer of ice now?

Could he move freely?

Hu Bamei's prophecy had included the number seven.

Then... was this only one person?

Were there others still beneath the ice?

Had this one simply risen first?

"You've been staring at that painting for a long time," the Sword Saint said.

Zheng Fan nodded.

Stretched lazily.

"This painting is very important to me."

"I can tell."

"Old Yu. Do you think this world truly has real Second Grade experts... and that so-called First Grade?"

"Officials?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know. But since Second Grade exists, First Grade isn't impossible. It's simply too difficult. So difficult that no road toward it can even be seen. What? You think the person in that painting may exist at that kind of level?"

"I wouldn't mind estimating him at the absolute maximum."

"And then?"

"First find him. Then determine his exact location."

"Plenty of Emperors throughout history thought exactly like you do now. Anything that might threaten imperial power, even something that could become a threat only in the future, gets strangled in advance."

"Yes."

"How boring would that be?" The Sword Saint shook his head. "If it were me, I'd want my opponent to be strong enough. No. I'd want to meet someone like Tian Wujing every few days."

"You would feel like that kind of life was full and meaningful. I genuinely don't like it. I like drinking tea in the afternoon while listening to the women at home sing little songs."

Zheng Fan reached out and lightly brushed his fingers across the drawing.

"Fortunately... he's on the snowfields."

The snowfields... bordered directly on Zheng Fan's sphere of influence.

The Sword Saint nodded.

At that moment, the County Magistrate entered to report:

"Marquis, the Prefect has arrived."

"Invite him in."

"I'll put the painting away for you," the Sword Saint said, stepping forward.

"Many thanks."

"No need."

...

"Aiya, Brother Zheng. What happened? I heard you ran into trouble here in Shangchuan County?"

Xu Wenzu was still as fat as ever.

When military dispatches and government affairs overwhelmed him, he became puffy with stress.

When everything was peaceful... he grew comfortably fat instead.

"Mm. Someone who used to serve in my residence ran into trouble. He was injured, ended up wandering among common folk, and somehow got sold into a brothel as a male courtesan."

Marquis Zheng sighed as he spoke.

He had mobilized nearby garrison troops in Shangchuan County.

There was no possible way to hide a disturbance that large.

Better to explain it openly.

A man from mighty Marquis Pingxi Residence had somehow suffered such an outrage.

The Marquis grew furious.

Mobilized troops.

Avenged a private grievance.

Wasn't that perfectly normal?

As for someone impeaching him for arrogance and overbearing conduct... that would not even count as scratching an itch for the current Marquis Pingxi.

Of course... if anyone dared impeach him for harboring improper intentions or something of that sort... then the person who submitted such a memorial would probably be dealt with in court first.

For one simple reason.

Marquis Pingxi genuinely possessed the strength required to harbor improper intentions.

"Is the man all right?" Xu Wenzu asked.

"His mind still hasn't recovered."

"I mean the man."

Xu Wenzu shifted his fat body and blinked.

"He hadn't received any clients yet."

Perhaps... that was the single fortunate thing within all this misfortune.

"Good. Good."

"I say, Brother. Your point of concern is rather peculiar."

"Bah. I've never told you this before. I used to hear about the free and elegant customs of Jin and thought nothing of it. Your elder brother here is still a proper Yan man, raised beside the desert. But who would've known that after I entered Yingdu, every damned banquet I attended would openly have these male courtesans serving the guests... And I couldn't exactly refuse every time. When in Rome, right?"

"You've suffered."

Zheng Fan genuinely sympathized with Xu Wenzu.

Given Xu Wenzu's build and face, he looked rather like Pigsy in human form, someone who had eaten so much ginseng fruit that he was sick of it and wanted to try something new.

Of course... that was only other people's misunderstanding.

Besides, the great Jin clans regarded male favorites as "refined objects."

More prestigious gifts than silver, gold, concubines, or singing girls.

In Jin, a household with some background keeping songstresses and dancing girls was nothing special.

Keeping refined young male favorites... that was what proved true class.

And naturally... the more valuable the gift... the more important the recipient.

"Damn it, Brother Zheng. Do you know what's most infuriating?"

"What?"

"Aiya. Your brother has truly broadened his horizons. There really are men in this world prettier than women. And there aren't even that few of them!"

"Oh."

Marquis Zheng looked at Xu Wenzu.

Blink.

"Your elder brother never touched any of them!"

"All right."

"But sometimes... thinking back on it is frightening. Let people tease and coax you long enough, and your heart really does start itching a little."

"Heh."

Marquis Zheng nodded.

There was no tension between the two of them now.

Xu Wenzu had long since counted as half a member of Sixth Master's faction.

Now Ji Chengjue was Emperor.

Xu Wenzu's future career required no concern whatsoever.

He could continue as a major regional governor for several more years if he wished.

If he later wanted a different post, he could return to Yanjing.

At minimum... a seat as Minister of one of the Six Ministries would be waiting for him.

So this meeting between them carried plenty of leisure for discussing affairs of romance and pleasure.

"Oh, right, Brother Zheng. For Yupan City's Garrison Commander, nominate someone and I'll appoint him."

"I understand. I'll arrange that after I return. Also, the Prefect there needs to be one of my people too."

Xu Wenzu narrowed his eyes.

Smiled.

"Listen to you. What would your elder brother possibly be reluctant to give?"

"Brother, it's not because I'm greedy. Nor because I want to fence eastern Jin off and turn it into my own backyard. His Majesty and I already discussed the matter. After two years of recuperating and restoring the people's strength... we'll probably begin moving again. The troops under my command, the various military chiefs... all of them need to be reorganized and settled one more time. If the fence around my own yard isn't firmly planted, I won't be able to fully stretch my hands outside."

"Good. I understand. I understand."

"Have you eaten?" Zheng Fan asked.

"Not yet. I had the County Magistrate prepare something."

"Good. We'll eat together."

"Wasn't that obvious?"

The County Magistrate accompanied them at the meal.

He kept pouring wine and joining the conversation while Zheng Fan and Xu Wenzu ate quite comfortably.

Afterward... before tea was even served...

Xu Wenzu smiled and said that since nothing serious had happened, he would head back first.

He had clearly noticed that something remained on Zheng Fan's mind.

Zheng Fan escorted Xu Wenzu out of the county yamen.

Barring accidents... for the next several years, the two of them would remain ideal partners.

After returning, Zheng Fan went to check on Liaofan again.

A maid told him the little monk had eaten recently and fallen asleep again.

A physician had also prescribed medicine to help restore his body.

So Zheng Fan did not go inside and disturb him.

On the way back toward his own room, he passed through the garden and saw a fairly attractive woman carrying a plate of cakes toward him.

"Marquis, these are a specialty of Shangchuan County. Candied brown-sugar cakes. The preparation is unique. You can't find them anywhere else. Would you like to taste one?"

As she spoke... she actually reached out, picked up one cake, and tried to feed it directly to Zheng Fan.

"Sigh."

Marquis Zheng sighed.

This woman... was probably one of the County Magistrate's concubines.

"This Marquis isn't in the mood. Go back and tell your master to handle this Marquis's business properly. Do that, and this Marquis will remember the favor."

"Yes, Marquis."

Zheng Fan left the garden.

Outside, he saw the Sword Saint sitting on the steps, basking in the afternoon sun.

A smile hung at the corner of his mouth.

"What are you smiling about?"

The Sword Saint shook his head.

"So it turns out that once men become officials... Yan or Jin, they're all exactly the same."

"You only just realized?"

"When are we leaving?" the Sword Saint asked.

Liaofan's affair had already delayed them for several more days.

"I've been thinking. Liaofan's condition is too poor. He probably can't withstand the journey. Leave him here for now. Tomorrow, you and I return to Fengxin City first."

"And the matters here?"

"Swap the Blind Man in and let him handle them."

"Good."

The Sword Saint agreed.

Siniang had already left for Shengle to investigate the traffickers.

So after dinner, Zheng Fan slept alone.

He did not sleep soundly.

Less than four hours later... he woke.

The north wind howled outside.

Zheng Fan lay in bed, staring blankly at the window opposite him.

He remained on his side like that for a long time.

Then suddenly... someone reported from outside:

"Marquis, the little master has awakened. He's insisting on seeing you."

"Understood."

Zheng Fan did not delay.

He got up.

Dressed.

And left his room.

When he reached Liaofan's chamber... the little monk was lying on the floor, all four limbs convulsing uncontrollably.

"Marquis, he woke tonight, so we prepared food for him. He'd only taken two bites when he asked where he was. Then he started demanding to see you. And now... he's become like this..."

"Enough. All of you withdraw. Unless I give permission, no one comes near."

"Yes, Marquis."

"Yes, Marquis."

The maidservants withdrew.

At that moment... the Sword Saint appeared as well, wearing only a white inner robe.

He stood beside the door, eyes narrowed.

Liaofan raised his head.

The instant he saw Zheng Fan... all pain vanished from his face.

Pure delight replaced it.

"Marquis! Marquis! Marquis!"

"You've come back to yourself?"

Zheng Fan moved closer.

Suddenly... a vicious gleam flashed through Liaofan's pupils.

He shrieked:

"It was you! You made master and disciple suffer so horribly! You! It was you!"

Then Liaofan abruptly threw himself at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan did not hesitate.

He was still a Fifth Grade expert.

No matter how suddenly the little monk lost his mind, there was absolutely no chance he could get close.

One kick sent Liaofan flying.

He smashed through two small tea tables before finally stopping.

"Ugh..."

Then Liaofan began vomiting violently again.

Only this time... among what he vomited were obvious lumps of black, foul-smelling, viscous material.

Zheng Fan picked up a lit candle.

Covered his nose with one hand.

Walked closer.

Looked carefully.

Then pressed the sole of his boot into the black mess.

It made a wet... squelch, squelch.

"Old Yu. Come look. What the hell is this?"

"Not coming. It stinks."

The Sword Saint refused without the slightest hesitation.

The only reason he had even come out tonight was that Zheng Fan had promised they would leave for home at daybreak.

Besides... no one else was currently beside Zheng Fan.

The Sword Saint was worried that Marquis Pingxi... might be afraid of the dark.

Marquis Zheng had no such reservations.

He picked up a pair of chopsticks that had fallen to the floor earlier.

Used them to pinch up a lump of the black substance.

Then walked over and held it directly in front of the Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint stopped breathing.

Studied the sticky black matter caught between the chopsticks.

"Doesn't it look like seaweed?" Zheng Fan asked.

The Sword Saint seemed to recognize it.

After a few careful looks, he said:

"It's Black Grass."

"Oh. What a wonderfully imaginative name."

Black as pitch.

Looked like seaweed.

Therefore...

Black Grass.

"It grows on the snowfields. But herders there all know not to eat it unless they have no other choice. It's similar to Guanyin clay. The difference is, this won't swell inside your belly, but it can cloud the mind. Animals can eat it without much problem. Humans eat it... and the brain easily goes wrong."

Zheng Fan pointed toward Liaofan, whom he had kicked across the room.

"So you're saying the reason his mind is like this could be because he ate too much Black Grass earlier?"

"That should be part of it. Perhaps the medicine the physician prescribed over the last two days, combined with that kick you just gave him, managed to have some effect."

At that moment...

Liaofan pushed himself upright.

Again, he looked blankly toward Zheng Fan and the Sword Saint standing by the door.

Then... he reached out.

Pointed toward Zheng Fan.

And cried weakly:

"Marquis... hurry and save my master... please, hurry and save my master..."

Marquis Zheng looked surprised.

"Your master... is actually still alive?"

"..." Liaofan.

A ball of pent-up misery seemed to lodge directly in the little monk's throat.

He failed to get his breath through.

His eyes rolled back.

He nearly fainted on the spot.

The Sword Saint moved.

In one instant, he appeared beside Liaofan.

A fingertip touched the little monk's chest.

Then swept upward.

"Hoo..."

Liaofan abruptly released a long breath.

Afterward... he began gasping again.

At last... his gaze fell once more upon Marquis Zheng standing in front of him.

"Marquis... Master stayed behind to save me. I escaped. I came looking for the Marquis. Looking for the Marquis to save my master... save my master..."

"Tell me carefully. Did you and your master discover something in the far north?"

"The thing the Marquis ordered us to find... no, the person. We found him. He's alive. He's alive."

"Slowly. That person. What exactly was his condition? What did he look like?"

"He just... looked like a person."

Marquis Zheng ground his teeth.

"What was he wearing? Was he naked?"

"No. Armor. He wore armor. Black armor. And in his hand... he held a saber. His eyes... his eyes were terrifying... terrifying..."

"Was he the one who kept your master there?"

"No. He didn't move. The ice cracked by itself. Then... then..."

Liaofan clutched his head.

"My mind... it's so confused... so confused..."

"Don't rush. Think slowly."

"Master and I... it took everything we had to crawl out. Then someone asked us... asked why we were there. Why we had come there... no. I think that happened before. Before we fell and climbed back out. No. No. It was before master and I approached the ice. Someone asked us..."

Clearly, Liaofan's memories had not fully recovered.

Even the sequence of events was tangled and contradictory.

"A woman... there was a woman."

Liaofan suddenly looked at Zheng Fan with certainty.

"What kind of woman?" Zheng Fan immediately asked.

"Master said... said she was very beautiful. Yes. Master said it. He definitely said that."

"And then?"

"The woman asked Master. Asked Master why the two of us were there. Who sent us. Yes. She asked. It was her."

"What did your master say?"

Zheng Fan could only guide him slowly, following whatever thread Liaofan's thoughts offered.

"Master said he was an honored guest of Marquis Pingxi. Said if he followed the Marquis, he'd have good days ahead in a temple."

"..." Zheng Fan.

"Heh."

Even the Sword Saint could not stop himself from laughing.

"And then?" Zheng Fan could only continue.

"Then... then Master... the woman... the woman... Master... then..."

Liaofan hugged his head again.

"Then the eyes opened. The ice cracked. Master and I crawled... crawled..."

As Liaofan spoke... he fell asleep.

This time it was not because he had lost his breath.

He was completely exhausted.

For the last two days he had done little besides eat and sleep.

But inside his mind... memory and identity had been colliding without pause.

Exhaustion of the spirit... was the cruelest kind.

"I understood some of it," Zheng Fan said.

"You understood that?" the Sword Saint asked, genuinely curious.

Zheng Fan nodded.

"They didn't find the person beneath the ice by themselves. Instead... they were captured first. And then taken onto the ice... as... sacrificial offerings."

[End of Chapter 742]