Chapter 70: The Ruthless Ning Liheng (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

The sky was heavy and overcast, as if rain might fall again. Near the gates of Jiangning, the city guards inspected all those passing through with strict vigilance. Vendors bringing produce into the city were subjected to exceptional scrutiny, and those wishing to leave found it even more difficult. It had been over ten days since the assassination attempt on Song Xian, yet the atmosphere around the city gates remained tense and forbidding.

When a group of soldiers approached from not far away, she slipped into a nearby alleyway, hiding her presence.

“...It’s been nearly half a month now. These past few days have been comparatively better, but earlier, they’d check so thoroughly that not even a cockroach could leave the city without being inspected. Three notorious bandits were caught, so in a way, it’s indirectly helping the people. Still, I doubt this will last much longer. Jiangning is a great city; if things keep on like this, everyone will complain, and business in the shops has already suffered. As for those officials... what do they have to do with the common folk? Song Xian’s reputation was poor to begin with... But regardless, I still think it’s far too risky for you to wander out like this. How is your injury?”

Inside the room, Ning Yi busied himself with an experiment, his words rambling on. Lu Hongti stood not far from the worktable, watching as he mixed solutions and lit a spirit lamp. She made no reply regarding her injury.

“What exactly are you doing?” she finally asked, when Ning Yi poured the mixture into a cup and tossed in a rusty iron rod, which hissed with smoke.

“Some chemical reactions... I’m not entirely sure myself.”

“Chemical reactions?”

“We assume the world is made up of tiny atoms. Atoms are… well, take this table, for example. If we magnified it again and again, perhaps we’d see the smallest particles gathered together—those would be atoms. There are different kinds of atoms, and these basic atoms form everything in existence. Sometimes atoms attract each other, sometimes they repel, resulting in… chemical reactions.”

“...”

“Hm?” Ning Yi shrugged, looking at Lu Hongti’s odd expression. She smiled lightly, “I don’t believe you. How would you magnify it?”

“Oh, there’s a certain method. Let me show you something basic.” Ning Yi took a small box from a nearby shelf and produced an irregular piece of glass, then pushed over a book.

“This is a fragment of glass from a lantern sold in the market. It’s hard to find ideal convex surfaces, but it serves the purpose. Look, aren’t the characters magnified?”

Glass was indeed available in the market, though called colored glaze and likely different from Western sodium-calcium glass. Its transparency was high enough. Ning Yi had no plans to research this further—otherwise he might have tried to make a telescope. Showing off a little, the woman squinted, “Water drops can magnify, too, but I’ve never seen anything that magnifies more than that.”

“Once you understand the principle, you can magnify more. The study of things is the pursuit of the principles behind all things, ha ha…”

“But why is it that you scholars have studied things for so many years, and still haven’t found anything that magnifies more than drops of water or shards of ice?”

“Uh…”

Ning Yi was momentarily speechless. She smiled again, “So, according to you, these chemical reactions—are you searching for the secret of turning stone into gold?”

“If we truly understood it, anything could be possible. Some chemical reactions are unstable—if triggered, they generate intense heat and expansion, leading to a boom… Like that packet of gunpowder on the shelf beside you. Imagine if its power could be multiplied five or ten times—what do you think could be done with it? Ah, right…” Ning Yi said, pulling the rusty iron rod out, rinsing it with water, “Look, the rust is gone.”

“You boiled it, then rinsed it away with water,” the woman remarked, expressionless. Ning Yi rolled his eyes, but she laughed.

“You’re dabbling in strange arts. I may not understand, but I don’t believe you.”

“If you truly understood, I wouldn’t need to explain…” Ning Yi shook his head and sighed. “By the way, martial artists always have impressive nicknames. What’s yours?”

“Lu Hongti.”

“No nickname? That’s just too plain. You need a more striking one, or else people will laugh if they hear you don’t have one. Look at that rebel Fang La outside—he calls himself the Holy Duke, oozing with power. That’s why so many follow him. I think you should prepare something. How about ‘Invincible Iron Fist Lu Hongti’... No, that doesn’t fit. You run fast, maybe ‘Northern Legs Through the Woods.’ But since everyone talks about serving the country these days, how about ‘Iron Sword of the Rivers and Mountains Lu Hongti?’ Is that too grand? Or do you prefer something more low-key—hey, come on, let’s chat…”

“Ridiculous.”

Lu Hongti turned coldly and stepped into the inner room, closing the door behind her and planting her sword on the floor, unable to suppress a smile. After holding back her amusement for a moment, she asked, “Why is it that when I said you couldn’t learn martial arts, you showed no disappointment at all?”

“You never said I couldn’t learn martial arts,” Ning Yi replied, presumably mixing reagents. “You said I couldn’t learn your internal skills.”

“Oh? Are you so confident there are internal arts you can learn?”

“I’ve looked into it a bit, just guessing… Since internal energy involves coordinated breathing and force, even if some methods require training from childhood, surely others must have studied techniques for adults. The effect might not match yours, but there’d be some results—I don’t think I’m wrong.”

Silence lingered inside. “Do you truly want to learn? Do you think I’ll teach you?”

“I don’t know. How about this: you teach me martial arts, and tell me a wish—so long as it’s reasonable, I’ll try to help you achieve it.”

“A merchant?”

“No. I’ve never wanted to take advantage of you. Think of it as an equal exchange.”

“The skills of the sect, though unremarkable, aren’t something to trade lightly. You saved my life, so I ought to repay you, and you can ask me for help. But I won’t teach you martial arts. I can’t see why you, a scholar, should learn them. You don’t go to war, nor do you seek to risk your life through combat. You’re simply… curious, learning for amusement…” Her words quickened. “You scholars talk endlessly of being able to defeat ten thousand enemies, of governing and saving the people, but there are so many of you, and I see little evidence of your salvation… You have talent, but you squander it on these eccentric pursuits—why not devote yourself to aiding the people? Establish a foundation for the people, bring lasting peace to the world… If you wish to trade, then if you can bring peace for all generations, I’ll trade anything you wish. How about that?”

Confucianism had flourished for a millennium in this world, and the Wu dynasty was renowned for its literary culture. This woman, though perhaps not well-read, had heard much and understood deeply. Her words weren’t necessarily directed at Ning Yi; he simply smiled, “Peace for all generations—that’s too broad and vague, your wish is not very realistic.”

“Then peace for a generation.”

“That still depends—are you talking about the Wu dynasty, the whole world, or just peace for the common folk?”

“If the common people could live in peace?”

“It’s not worthwhile. It would take so much time and effort—my entire life invested. I’d never become a top master, and if I tried to accomplish all that, I wouldn’t even have time to train; I’d be lucky to reach the level of a second-rate expert…”

“Hah, such grand words—you scholars are all full of them.” Lu Hongti laughed from within, perhaps thinking Ning Yi was joking. “The paths of scholar and warrior are different. I know many scholars are capable, but in different ways. You don’t need to learn. You won’t go to war, won’t risk your life, lack the necessary ruthlessness. Perhaps you’d find it hard to kill a chicken, and even if you learned, it would only distract you and hinder your original talents… I don’t see the point in teaching you.”

“Tch, at least think it over…” Ning Yi shrugged, “And I can kill a chicken just fine.”

There was time yet, and Ning Yi was not impatient. He changed the subject, and in the gloomy room, continued telling the follow-up story of the “Heavenly Dragon Eight Tribes.” In truth, Lu Hongti felt a bit vexed; if he told the tale today, then when the little maid came tomorrow, she’d have to hear it all again, but she couldn’t resist at the moment.

The next day, as footsteps sounded at the door, the call of a hen was heard as well. The fellow knocked outside, “Come out, I’ve got something to show you.” Lu Hongti stepped out to find him holding a small bundle and gripping a hen, gesturing toward the stove, “Help me boil some water, please.” Clearly, he meant to demonstrate his ruthlessness by killing the chicken in front of her. Lu Hongti was both amused and exasperated—this young man had a certain temperament that made whatever he did, no matter how odd or unconventional, seem entirely natural.

She went to light the stove and boil water, as the wind chimes under the eaves tinkled softly. Ning Yi skillfully slaughtered the hen, plucked it, cleaned out the innards, and unpacked his bundle of seasonings, brushing the chicken, and preparing to skewer it for roasting.

“I’ve received reliable news: in two days, the defenses at the city gates will be withdrawn. The magistrate’s office can’t hold out any longer. The open sentries will be gone, but the hidden ones will likely be even tighter. I don’t know how your injury is, and I haven’t managed to bring anything good for you lately. Today, let me treat you. In the future, as you roam the martial world, you won’t be able to say that Blood-Handed Butcher Ning Liheng neglected you… Uh, best not mention I entertained you at all…”

“That’s the nickname you gave yourself?”

“How is it? Brimming with murderous intent, right?”

“It’s awful.”

“This chicken can testify—it’s a fitting nickname.”

Ning Yi didn’t bother arguing. He prepared all manner of spices, including cumin, and adjusted the stove. Lu Hongti said, “My injury has healed by half. If I went out now, it would still be risky. Once fully recovered, leaving the city gates will pose no trouble.”

Ning Yi was momentarily stunned, “So… I still have time to pry the martial arts secrets from you?”

“You really are… insufferable.”

“Heh heh.” Ning Yi laughed and left her be, skewering the chicken and roasting it over the charcoal. The recipe was a new creation from the master chef at Zhu’s Restaurant, and soon the aroma filled the room. Outside, thunder rumbled, and rain threatened once more. Ning Yi turned his head.

“By the way, I’ve never dared ask—why did you kill Song Xian?”

Lu Hongti’s gaze narrowed, her eyes sharp as a startled cat, and she stared at Ning Yi…

Please vote and help us move forward.