Chapter 14: Prince Jing’s Recognition
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Meanwhile, on the roof of a restaurant in the distance, there was a clear view of the secluded alley where the fight was taking place.
The morning sun had only just risen. Golden rays outlined the handsome yet striking features of Prince Jing, Dongfang Liren, who stood by the window with his hands clasped behind his back, approval in his eyes.
“Excellent technique. This young man has a foundation as solid as bedrock.”
Behind him stood an old woman with white hair that reached the ground. She shook her head slightly.
“He took a punch from She Long without even losing his breath. His foundation is indeed extraordinary, but he is too young—reckless, ignorant of the depths of the martial world, and utterly unversed in technique. He is relying entirely on sheer ferocity. Shall I call She Long and the others back?”
“Since they have already come, let them teach the boy a lesson. Otherwise, his pride may get the better of him, and one day he may offend His Majesty in the palace.”
The white-haired old woman inclined her head slightly and said no more.
In the alley—
Ye Jingtang gripped his blade tightly, watching the formidable enemies closing in from both sides. In truth, he had already learned his lesson. Back in the frontier towns, he had been invincible. Yet after only a few days in the capital, every person he encountered had been a damned immortal. From now on, it would be impossible for him not to remain cautious.
Seeing that neither man was rushing to attack, Ye Jingtang said coldly:
“Yang Guan, these are the reinforcements you managed to find?!”
Of course, Yang Guan had not found these two men. The two were known together as the Black and White Impermanence; even his master, the Three-Excellencies Immortal, would go out of his way to avoid them.
“Grandmaster” was an honorific in the martial world, not a title with clearly defined boundaries. There were many ways to judge such a rank. One of them was to use the Black and White Impermanence as examiners.
Anyone capable of defeating either one of them—or escaping unscathed when the two joined forces—could be considered a true grandmaster. In that sense, the Black and White Impermanence represented the standard by which grandmasters were measured.
Though Yang Guan had merely been pressed into service as a disposable tool, it still felt rather satisfying to have someone vent his anger for him. He said:
“These two gentlemen are old friends of my master. Did you really think that I, Yang, could survive in the capital without connections?”
Ye Jingtang’s gaze darkened as he watched the movements of the two men on either side, waiting for his chance to strike.
Iron-Armed Impermanence, She Long, had no interest in bullying a youngster. He had come at Prince Jing’s command to test Ye Jingtang’s foundation. He had already seen that Ye Jingtang possessed an exceptionally deep foundation, but his actual technique was atrocious—a complete mess of wild punches.
Seeing that Prince Jing had not ordered him to stop, She Long strode forward once more.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
His pace was not quick, but each step was steady and powerful, as though an iron tower were walking toward them.
Ye Jingtang could cut this iron man, while he could not even touch the ghostly figure. After weighing his options, he gritted his teeth and leapt diagonally upward, appearing to intend to vault over the courtyard wall and break through.
Ghost-Shadow Impermanence, Shang Jianli, had seen that Ye Jingtang knew no true martial arts. His right shoulder had also been struck by Shang’s palm and had begun to stiffen. He had no intention of interfering, merely observing from beside the mouth of the alley.
She Long, however, flashed forward, overtaking Ye Jingtang from behind and reaching his left side. He raised his hand and struck out with another punch.
Boom!
The punch was heavy and forceful, raising a horizontal gust of wind through the narrow alley.
Judging by the situation, Ye Jingtang had not even risen three feet before he would be knocked from the air.
Yet, astonishingly, before She Long’s fist landed, his expression suddenly changed. He raised his arm and shifted into a defensive evasion.
Clang!
The next moment, a blade cry like a dragon’s roar suddenly rang through the alley.
In the old alley paved with blue stone, a flash of steel streaked across the air.
A sharp metallic clash rang out once more—but this time, it brought with it a spray of blood.
She Long’s leaping body was blasted backward by the tremendous force. The sleeve of his left arm had been shredded, revealing a powerful, bronze-colored limb.
His forearm, tempered until it was as hard as iron and stone, was no longer unscathed. A deep wound, reaching to the bone, had appeared across it. The sight was horrifying as blood sprayed outward.
Shang Jianli, watching from the entrance of the alley, stared in utter disbelief.
She Long had tempered that arm for decades. It was virtually a divine weapon. Countless martial artists had dreamed of severing it, yet anyone capable of cutting even a finger’s breadth into his flesh would already have been considered formidable.
This young man had cut straight to the bone with a single stroke. It was enough to show just how powerful his physique and his overwhelming internal energy were.
But that was not the most important point. A genuine external-style grandmaster could indeed cut She Long to the bone with one stroke. What mattered was the speed of that stroke.
Shang Jianli could clearly see that She Long had sensed the young man’s intention in advance. The moment the blade left its sheath, he had already begun to evade.
Both sides had moved at the same time. She Long was an external-style grandmaster with rich combat experience, yet his arm had still been gravely wounded. This could only mean that, despite exerting every ounce of his strength, he had been unable to escape that incomparably domineering stroke.
In all his years in the martial world, Shang Jianli could recall only one blade technique whose explosive force rivaled this one: Mount Jun Terrace’s Dragon-Slaying Edict.
If this had been the Xuanyuan family’s Dragon-Slaying Edict, then She Long, having arrogantly closed in and charged head-on, would have been struck by the blade. What followed would certainly have been a series of additional cuts, leaving him seriously wounded.
Since this young man possessed explosive power comparable to the Dragon-Slaying Edict, the possibility that he would not follow up was extremely small. Shang Jianli therefore rushed forward at once to lend assistance.
She Long likewise knew that the situation was bad and hurriedly withdrew through the air.
But to their surprise, Ye Jingtang did not take advantage of She Long’s unstable posture to deliver another strike.
After forcing She Long back with one slash, Ye Jingtang instantly returned the blade to its sheath and resumed his starting stance. Only then did he kick off the courtyard wall and pursue She Long, whose left arm had been injured.
If he could catch up to She Long, then She Long would hardly deserve to be called a grandmaster.
Seeing She Long leap aside in midair and clear the path, Ye Jingtang unleashed his full strength and charged directly at Yang Guan.
He was not blinded by bloodlust and seeking to trade one life for another. He was going for a hostage.
No matter how deep his foundation was, he knew only that single stroke. The other two men were unfathomably strong. Unless they offered themselves up to be cut, he would have difficulty catching them and would never be able to escape. His only path to survival was to seize their employer as a hostage.
Yang Guan had never expected Ye Jingtang to break through the defenses of Iron-Armed Impermanence with a single stroke. The shock in his eyes was indescribable.
But the moment he saw Ye Jingtang charging toward him, his expression transformed into sheer terror. He dropped to both knees and shouted:
“Shang—”
Before he could finish, Ye Jingtang had already seized Yang Guan by the neck and moved behind him. His left hand closed around the hilt of his blade, ready to strike.
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But his opponent—
Shang Jianli did not care in the slightest whether Yang Guan lived or died. Naturally, he showed no hesitation. His body drifted forward like a ghostly shadow, and a deathly pale palm shot straight toward Yang Guan’s chest and abdomen. From the look of it, he intended to skewer Yang Guan and Ye Jingtang together, reaching straight for Ye Jingtang’s heart.
Ye Jingtang was stunned. He had never imagined that these two madmen would kill even their own employer.
Knowing that a slash would probably be useless, Ye Jingtang gritted his teeth and prepared to use the palm technique Luo Ning had taught him the previous day, meeting the ghostly figure head-on.
But the words Yang Guan had been unable to finish finally came out at that moment:
“Constable Shang, save me!”
The words exposed everything.
Ye Jingtang instantly understood. This was an investigation conducted by the imperial authorities.
The palm he was about to strike was forcibly halted.
Seeing Ye Jingtang stop, Shang Jianli naturally had no intention of actually skewering the two of them. He drifted lightly backward and landed thirty feet away, once again standing rigidly like a wooden figure.
“Master Ye, that is an excellent blade technique. At only eighteen, your physique and internal energy are already no weaker than those of an ordinary grandmaster. Your talent is truly humbling. It is merely a pity that you know so little genuine technique.”
From atop the wall, She Long’s muscles flexed as he forcibly staunched the blood flowing from his wound. He leapt down from the high wall and lifted the brim of his bamboo hat, revealing a face touched with astonishment.
“That stroke was truly domineering. If Master Ye were not inexperienced, had not revealed his killing intent beforehand, and knew more than that single stroke, I might not have been able to leave this alley today.”
Ye Jingtang had run into two ghost constables first thing in the morning, and his mood was abysmal. He said in a low voice:
“You flatter me. The two of you are renowned experts, yet you came all this way to bully a junior. Surely that is beneath you?”
Shang Jianli did not answer. Instead, he looked toward She Long and asked:
“Was that the Eight-Step Berserk Blade?”
Ye Jingtang’s heart lurched. He knew that the debt owed by his treacherous foster father would now be counted against him.
He knew nothing about whether his foster father had committed atrocities during his travels through the martial world. But his foster father’s sworn enemy, the Blade Chief Xuanyuan Chao, had been personally granted the title of Marquis of Mount Jun by the imperial court and maintained close ties with the authorities.
If the court discovered that he knew the Eight-Step Berserk Blade, Xuanyuan Chao would learn of it as well. And if they wished to eradicate every last trace of his foster father…
At that thought, Ye Jingtang quietly tightened his grip on the hilt, preparing to fight to the death and force a way out.
But, unexpectedly, after a moment of silence, She Long shook his head.
“Not quite. I have seen Zheng Feng before. The opening stance resembles his blade technique somewhat, but the force and momentum are worlds apart. They are as different as a dragon and a python.”
Ye Jingtang froze.
Are you blind? My foster father taught me this technique. How could I possibly have practiced it incorrectly?
Shang Jianli asked:
“Which is the dragon, and which is the python?”
She Long gestured toward his bleeding arm.
“What do you think?”
Shang Jianli understood at once. Zheng Feng’s master possessed a grand reputation, but Zheng Feng’s own blade technique was truly mediocre. If he had possessed power and momentum like this young man, how could he have been crippled at such a young age?
A trace of astonishment appeared in Shang Jianli’s eyes as he studied Ye Jingtang seriously. He searched his memory of famous blade masters in the martial world, but could not find any blade technique resembling this one. At last, he asked:
“Master Ye, what is this stroke called?”
The opening stance of the Eight-Step Berserk Blade…
Ye Jingtang felt that these two charlatans were utterly lacking in discernment. They had clearly recognized the technique, yet were stubbornly helping him explain it away.
Still, since they were too blind to see the truth, he naturally had no intention of confessing. He improvised:
“White Cut.”
“Chirp?”
Niaoniao poked its head over the wall.
“White Cut…”
She Long nodded, then asked again:
“Did you create this stroke yourself, or were you taught by an expert?”
My foster father taught me…
Faced with a constable’s question, Ye Jingtang could not simply refuse to answer. He continued to make things up.
“During a caravan escort, I happened to see a great river cascading down from a mountain peak…”
She Long raised a hand to interrupt him.
“Understood. You happened to comprehend it from heaven and earth. A pity that you currently possess only a single stroke and no follow-up.”
“That is indeed the case. I apologize for making you gentlemen laugh…”
As the exchange continued in the alley, the people on the top floor of the distant restaurant were discussing the matter as well.
The coldness had vanished from Dongfang Liren’s eyes, replaced by a hint of astonishment.
“He knows no genuine technique, yet his foundation is as deep as that of a newly initiated grandmaster. He is even more formidable than I am. How did he train? Or is he deliberately concealing his true ability?”
“He truly knows only that single stroke. His internal energy is vast and his physique exceptionally strong. Perhaps he was never taught by an expert, but possessed extraordinary talent and worked relentlessly, forcing himself to develop through endless practice of fists and kicks.”
Dongfang Liren had heard the old tale of someone who practiced swordsmanship for decades in a remote mountain ravine and emerged as a Sword Saint, but this was the first time he had encountered such a person in reality.
“Even with the foundation of a newly initiated grandmaster, cutting She Long so helplessly that he could not retaliate is still absurdly astonishing. Is the Eight-Step Berserk Blade really that domineering?”
The white-haired old woman’s brow furrowed deeply as she said solemnly:
“The Berserk Fang’s blade could indeed be said to be impossible for anyone of equal rank to withstand. But Zheng Feng’s blade was never this domineering. In my opinion, this stroke is a masterpiece. Zheng Feng’s Eight-Step Berserk Blade was a counterfeit that had taken a wrong path. It resembled the original in form and spirit, yet was fundamentally something else entirely.”
“Could it have been taught by the Berserk Fang?”
“The Berserk Fang was hunted throughout the martial world because of the Dragon-Song Diagram. He could not possibly have survived until now. It is said that when Zheng Feng encountered him, the Berserk Fang was already at the end of his strength. I suspect that before Zheng Feng could learn the Eight-Step Berserk Blade, the Berserk Fang had already died. Zheng Feng failed to learn its essence, and without a master to guide him, he had to feel his way across the stones himself, ultimately taking the wrong path. As for this young man’s stroke… even if the Berserk Fang were alive, it might not be any better. Its true origin is difficult to fathom.”
“Could Zheng Feng have secluded himself in the mountains all these years, comprehended the Berserk Fang’s blade technique, and then taught it to Ye Jingtang?”
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The white-haired old woman shook her head.
“Zheng Feng was crippled by Xuanyuan Chao. Even practicing martial arts is a problem for him. He could not possibly have achieved enlightenment out of thin air. Besides, even if he had taught the boy, he would not have taught him only a single stroke.”
Dongfang Liren nodded slightly and glanced at Ye Jingtang in the distance.
“The Berserk Fang could not have passed it on, and Zheng Feng himself took the wrong path and had no way to teach it… If the boy comprehended this stroke himself, then would his understanding not surpass even mine?”
Far more than that…
The white-haired old woman knew that Prince Jing was proud and ambitious, so she did not dare strike at his confidence. She merely said tactfully:
“If he truly comprehended this stroke himself, then his insight could be called unparalleled throughout the ages. However, martial artists who possess only one exceptional technique are everywhere. Most of them ultimately accomplish nothing more and leave no legacy behind. Those capable of using that single stroke as the foundation for an entire school of martial arts are exceedingly rare. His true achievements will have to be judged later.”
Dongfang Liren said nothing more.
Seeing that the people in the alley were still waiting for orders, the white-haired old woman spoke again:
“Your Highness, it is time to send the portrait to His Majesty for inspection. The young man should return home to wash and dress before receiving the imperial summons.”
“…”
Dongfang Liren stood with his hands behind his back, gazing from afar at the peerlessly handsome Ye Jingtang. After a brief silence, he said:
“His Majesty has no interest in martial artists. This young man possesses extraordinary talent in martial arts. If His Majesty takes a liking to him and he abandons martial arts to pursue civil office, it would be a waste. Hmm… There is no need to send the portrait. Give him a token from Prince Jing’s residence instead. If he ever needs anything, he may come to the palace and pay his respects at any time.”
?
The white-haired old woman felt that this sounded rather like—keeping the matter from His Majesty, intercepting a handsome candidate, and lining one’s own pockets.
Still, Prince Jing’s reasoning was sound. If the Empress took a liking to the young man, then no matter how fine his treatment, he would be little better than a royal consort. He would be unable to hold office, unable to leave the Emperor’s side, and would live by the maxim that accompanying the ruler was like accompanying a tiger. He would never be able to hold his head high for the rest of his life.
The white-haired old woman also hated to see talent wasted, so she nodded at once.
“As you command.”
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In the alley—
She Long’s arm had been wounded by Ye Jingtang, so he had left first to seek treatment. Only Shang Jianli remained where he was, exchanging nonsense with Ye Jingtang while waiting for orders from above.
After a long while, a constable from the Black Office hurried into the alley and whispered several words into Shang Jianli’s ear.
After listening, Shang Jianli accepted a waist token and tossed it to Ye Jingtang.
“The blade technique of the swordsman Zheng Hao resembles your stroke. Zheng Hao knew Qiu Tianhe, and Qiu Tianhe is an imperial criminal. I was ordered to investigate the matter. I came today merely to conduct a routine inquiry. I hope you will forgive the disturbance, Master Ye.”
Ye Jingtang secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
“The authorities were only doing their duty. I should have cooperated from the start. So long as the matter has been clarified, all is well.”
“Master Ye, your talent is extraordinary, and Prince Jing holds you in high regard. He has specially bestowed this waist token upon you. From this day forward, you are an honored guest of Prince Jing’s residence.”
Ye Jingtang accepted the token and examined it briefly, rather surprised.
With this token, he could probably go directly to Prince Jing’s residence and request an audience. But its greater significance was the connection it represented.
Prince Jing was the present Emperor’s younger sister and greatly favored. This could be seen from the fact that the Emperor had made an exception by elevating a princess to the rank of prince.
Possessing a token that allowed him to enter Prince Jing’s residence meant that he had a close relationship with Prince Jing. Whatever the offender’s title—prince, marquis, minister, or general—anyone wishing to harm him would first have to consider Prince Jing’s position.
Of course, displaying the token also meant that Prince Jing had personally settled the matter on his behalf. Such a favor would be extremely difficult to repay.
After a moment’s thought, Ye Jingtang put the token away and cupped his hands.
“Thank you for Prince Jing’s favor. Is Prince Jing nearby?”
Shang Jianli did not know how to answer, so he resorted to another cryptic remark.
“Prince Jing is everywhere.”
He turned and walked away.
“…”
Ye Jingtang found the remark unbearably pretentious. He looked around, then suddenly noticed Yang Guan, who was facing the corner of the wall and pretending to be dead.
“Constable Shang, are Yang Guan and the two of you truly old friends?”
Without turning his head, Shang Jianli replied:
“No.”
With that, he disappeared at the mouth of the alley.
“…”
The old alley paved with blue stone fell silent.
“Chirp!”
Niaoniao jumped down from the wall, flapping its wings with a ferocious expression. It seemed to be indicating that Yang Guan should be cut down properly.
Yang Guan, who had lured Ye Jingtang into the encirclement, had witnessed the Black and White Impermanence suffer a heavy loss. Now that they had put on their trousers and refused to acknowledge him, his face had gone pale. He raised both hands.
“Master Ye, please wait… Hiss—”
Before he could finish speaking, he drew a sharp breath of pain.
Ye Jingtang had been beaten from both sides by the Black and White Impermanence first thing in the morning. Since they were officials, he had been unable to vent his anger properly, and had been forced to swallow a bellyful of fury.
Now that the ghost constables had left, he raised his hand and slashed the unharmed right arm of Yang Guan.
Slash!
“Were you trying to sever one of my arms and one of my legs?”
Yang Guan did not dare cry out. His arms hung limply at his sides as he forced a smile through clenched teeth.
“I was forced into it as well. The Black and White Impermanence are people I absolutely cannot afford to offend. I could only do as they instructed. Otherwise, how would I have dared provoke you, Master Ye? Your blade technique is extraordinary; I am thoroughly impressed. Please, Master Ye, go on your way…”
Ye Jingtang sheathed his long blade, hoisted Niaoniao onto his shoulder, and strode out of the alley.