Chapter 20: Living Up to Youthful Aspirations

Chapter 20: Living Up to Youth

The Governor’s Mansion.

“The Empress Dowager has passed away.”

Even Marshal Wei, who was busily stuffing himself to make up for lost strength, was more shocked than Qin Yuan.

He was directly involved.

His injuries were more severe than the Empress Dowager’s, yet he was fine—how could anything have happened to her?

“It must be a trap,” he sneered inwardly.

After finishing his meal, he went to the garden, to a corner near the rockery, and activated a hidden mechanism. With a rumbling sound, a deep, cold cave appeared.

He took a torch he had prepared in advance and entered, his eyes catching sight of a long staircase.

He moved like a gust of wind, swiftly passing through.

Before long, he arrived outside a specially made cage.

Inside, a man’s hands and feet were bound in chains, his disheveled hair obscuring his face. Upon noticing someone entering, he didn’t even raise his head.

“Wang Wu, want to know where your master is?” Wei Ting asked.

Wang Wu suddenly lifted his head, and through his tangled hair, a pair of eyes seemed to shoot beams of light. “Where is my master?”

Wang Wu’s master had disappeared suddenly long ago.

Wang Wu had searched all over the world but never found him.

“Tell me the final move of the Overlord Blade.”

Wang Wu laughed as if looking at a fool.

“To show my sincerity, I’ll tell you first—your master was drained dry by the Empress Dowager.”

Wei Ting’s words left Wang Wu stunned.

What did it mean to be drained dry?

“Have you heard of the Northern Abyss Rebirth Technique?” Wei Ting asked.

Wang Wu’s eyes widened. “My master mentioned it once. Legend says the Northern Abyss Rebirth Technique can absorb others’ martial arts moves and convert their inner strength for oneself. When perfected, it can even regenerate one’s soul. The Empress Dowager actually mastered this technique?”

Wei Ting tore open his shirt, activating his inner power, causing the wounds repaired by the poison worm to rupture again.

“Believe me now?”

“Believe it! Ha ha ha!” Wang Wu laughed mockingly.

Finally, someone could deal with Wei Ting.

Each time he recalled his fight with Wei Ting over the years, he was filled with helplessness.

“Give me the final move, or I’ll kill everyone—more than fifty people—at your Yuanshun Escort Agency.”

Yuanshun Escort Agency was run by Wang Wu and was once one of the largest escort agencies in the capital.

“Eight years ago, when the Western Seas nations attacked the capital, Yuanshun Escort Agency was destroyed,” Wang Wu sneered.

“Who told you that?” Wei Ting’s eyes turned icy enough to freeze.

This was a trump card he held over Wang Wu, yet somehow the information had leaked.

“It was the person who delivered your meals,” Wang Wu answered.

He said no more.

That was taken as tacit consent.

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Wang Wu couldn’t deny it either.

The only person he could contact was the meal delivery servant.

Wei Ting paced back and forth in frustration, then stopped and said, “I’ll transfer you to the Heavenly Prison and announce it to the world.”

Wang Wu’s expression immediately darkened.

If news of him being in the Heavenly Prison spread, his old friends would surely come to rescue him.

But with Wei Ting’s martial prowess, every friend who came would die.

“You villain, you’ll die a miserable death!”

Wei Ting left with a triumphant smile, and that very day, he killed all the servants who had delivered food to Wang Wu.

In the thirty-fourth year of Chonghui, in November,

Two-year-old Qi Guangpu ascended the throne at Renhe Hall, marking the following year as the first year of Longxuan.

Since Emperor Longxuan was young, Prince Gong served as regent.

In the Heavenly Prison,

Qin Yuan brought a roasted chicken and a jug of twenty-year-old Zhuangyuan red wine.

At the sight of the roasted chicken, Shao Guilin, who had gained some weight, looked grim.

In the Heavenly Prison, roasted chicken was nicknamed “Decapitation Chicken.”

“Eat.”

Qin Yuan placed the chicken in front of Shao Guilin.

Shao Guilin took a few bites, then suddenly began to sob.

What was he thinking back then, giving up a peaceful life and courting death instead?

“Finish it, then set off on your journey.”

Upon hearing Qin Yuan’s words, Shao Guilin’s sobbing grew louder.

At that moment, two prison guards entered.

Shao Guilin threw the roasted chicken to the ground, collapsed against the bars, and clung tightly, “I won’t go, I won’t go…”

The two guards looked bewildered.

One said confusedly, “Exile a thousand miles and you’re scared like this?”

Shao Guilin’s voice suddenly cut off.

It wasn’t beheading.

Suppressing a smile, Qin Yuan said, “Who told you it was beheading?”

“But I committed treason, right?”

Shao Guilin was puzzled.

The guards couldn’t help laughing; one mocked, “Treason? You’re worthy of that?”

Shao Guilin paused, then laughed.

Soon after, the laughter faded—being exiled a thousand miles was no small matter.

“Please take care of him on the road.”

Qin Yuan handed each guard a silver note worth fifty taels.

This money would let the two guards live comfortably for a long time.

“Rest assured, we won’t let Master Shao suffer.”

“Indeed.”

With silver in hand, the guards’ faces creased with wide smiles.

Then they put special hollow shackles on Shao Guilin.

“To make a show in the capital. After the trial and once out of the capital, the shackles will be removed.”

One guard explained.

“Understood.”

Qin Yuan responded.

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“Thank you.”

Shao Guilin was full of gratitude, his eyes reddened.

Compared to those colleagues who avoided him like a plague, Qin Yuan was truly a blessing.

Qin Yuan nodded.

After Shao Guilin left, Qin Yuan proceeded to another cell.

Today’s main character was Wang Jixin, a southern society member like Lin Yidong, who had been caught yesterday attempting to assassinate Prince Gong in the street.

After walking for a while, Qin Yuan stopped before a cell.

Inside, a handsome, refined man was writing poetry on the wall with coal dust.

He looked very much like Tan Zhuangfei in his youth.

Only his wounds were lighter.

The jailer opened the cell door, and Qin Yuan entered, reading the poem on the wall:

“A spirited song in Yan Market, calmly as a prisoner of Chu.

Drawing the blade swift and sure, living up to youthful head.”

From the poem, this was another hero like Tan Zhuangfei and Lin Yidong.

Hearing the noise, Wang Jixin turned calmly to Qin Yuan. “Who are you?”

“A recorder from the Left History Institute, a historian recording words,” Qin Yuan smiled.

Wang Jixin noticeably became more solemn.

After the jailer set down the table and chair and left, the two sat down.

Qin Yuan placed the wine and meat he had brought on the table.

Since becoming financially comfortable, bringing his own wine and meat had become Qin Yuan’s signature.

Except for people like the Lotus Sect Master, who refused all flavor, seeing wine and meat usually softened attitudes.

“Quanjude roast duck, two jin of pig’s head meat, half a jin of raw rice, ten-year-old lotus cabbage—thank you for your time,” Qin Yuan said.

A smile appeared on Wang Jixin’s face.

“We’ll talk while eating.”

After handing over the chopsticks, Qin Yuan asked, “Where are you from?”

“Shanyin, Zhejiang Prefecture.”

Qin Yuan quickly wrote it down and continued, “I heard your grandfather passed the provincial exam, served as an instructor; your father was also a scholar, and you yourself passed the county exam, ranking first. Why did you choose rebellion instead of continuing the imperial exams?”

Wang Jixin put down his chopsticks in anger and said, “The world has fallen into such ruin—if not to rebel, then what?”

Qin Yuan noted this, then glanced at the dirty wall poem.

“Someone else wrote a poem here before.”

“Who?”

“Tan Zhuangfei.”

“He…”

Wang Jixin showed no reaction.

Different paths, no common cause.

“By the way, this cell was once Lin Yidong’s.”

“Yidong?” Wang Jixin was startled, then showed reverence. “He is someone I respect.”

“Drawing the blade swift and sure, living up to youthful head. It seems you, like those two, are unafraid of death.”

Qin Yuan sighed.

“What is there to fear in death?”

Wang Jixin said calmly, without changing expression.

“Don’t just talk; eat.”

“All right, I’ll be a well-fed ghost.”

Wang Jixin picked up his chopsticks and began to eat and drink heartily.

(End of chapter)