Chapter 19: A New Generation Replaces the Old

The Black Bureau operated independently from the Six Ministries, capable of conducting inspections, arrests, interrogations, and executions all within its own precincts. The prison for holding major offenders was located behind the office—more precisely, directly beneath the Mingyu Tower.

Ye Jingtang had followed Shang Jianli for quite some time, gradually arriving near the Mingyu Tower. Behind it stood a vast mansion complex, with towering walls enclosing pavilions and shaded gardens, magnificently displaying the opulence befitting a royal household.

“Is this the back gate of Prince Jing’s residence?”

“The Black Bureau serves as Prince Jing’s personal guards. Logically, this area is the outer courtyard of the prince’s mansion; the Black Bureau’s main gate is actually the rear entrance to the prince’s estate.”

Shang Jianli entered a corridor that led to a set of descending stairs. Those who warranted the Black Bureau’s involvement were no ordinary criminals—they were often executed on the spot, so the prison held very few inmates.

As Ye Jingtang stepped underground, a chilling draft immediately brushed against him. The corridor ahead seemed endless, lit only by flickering oil lamps that resembled ghostly flames.

After walking about a hundred steps and descending two more levels, they finally arrived at an underground chamber.

Two jailers stood guard outside the chamber, which was windowless on all sides but illuminated by oil lamps. In the center was a small courtyard.

Above the courtyard was a heavy iron grate, locked firmly to the well’s opening. Each iron bar was as thick as a man’s wrist, too heavy for an ordinary person to lift, let alone break through.

Ye Jingtang approached the courtyard and peered inside.

Below the grate lay a stone cell furnished with a few basic living essentials. Against the wall sat a prisoner, dressed relatively neatly, though his hair hung loose. His limbs were shackled with chains as thick as arms. Despite his large frame, his body was emaciated.

As Ye Jingtang appeared above the well, the prisoner lifted his head—a face marked with lines, suggesting he was around fifty, yet his eyes burned with clear intensity, showing no trace of despair. He sat as calmly as if greeting a visitor at his own home.

But upon seeing an unfamiliar face, he resumed his cross-legged posture and closed his eyes.

Ye Jingtang asked, “Is this the famed swordsman Qiu? The locks are so secure?”

“These measures are just to prevent accidents; they don’t truly restrain him. The real restraint is the ‘Soft Bone Incense,’” Shang Jianli explained, then looked toward the prison.

“Qiu Tianhe, this is Young Master Ye Jingtang, also a swordsman. You might find him interesting.”

Inside the cell, Qiu Tianhe opened his eyes again.

“Come down.”

Shang Jianli opened the grate and gestured,

“Please.”

...

Ye Jingtang, unconvinced by the heavy locks posing any real threat to him, did not hesitate. With a nimble leap, he dropped into the courtyard below.

A soft thud echoed in the confined stone chamber.

Qiu Tianhe’s gaze, initially indifferent, flickered sharply as he caught sight of the ‘Glazed Dragon Ring-Headed Saber’ hanging behind Ye Jingtang.

This sword’s design was quite common in the martial world. The late master swordsman Kuang Yazi from the previous dynasty had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, and his preferred weapon was widely imitated by later generations. Today, countless replicas circulated.

The sword style of Junshan Terrace was called the ‘Dragon-Slaying Order,’ designed originally to counter this very Glazed Dragon Ring-Headed Saber.

Yet genuine pieces were exceedingly rare.

Those unfamiliar might struggle to tell them apart, but top-tier swordsmen who had seen the original could identify the sword more accurately than they recognized a person.

Qiu Tianhe’s expression did not change, but he scrutinized Ye Jingtang’s features.

“Handsome young man. What brings you to me?”

Ye Jingtang did not assume a superior tone. He sat cross-legged a few feet from Qiu Tianhe and cupped his hands respectfully.

“I have long admired your reputation, Master Qiu, and have come merely to pay my respects.”

“Your sword is fine. Show me a strike; let me see its depth.”

Without hesitation, Ye Jingtang pushed the sword behind his waist, grasped the hilt in reverse.

Clang—

A cold gleam flashed within the stone room, stirring a light breeze that lifted Qiu Tianhe’s disheveled hair.

With a controlled exhale, Ye Jingtang sheathed his sword and loosened his grip.

“What do you think, Master Qiu?”

Surpassing the master...

Qiu Tianhe’s expression remained unchanged, he merely nodded faintly.

“You are truly talented. If I were not trapped here, I would surely seek to learn from you.”

“You flatter me, Master Qiu. I am still new to the martial world and know little of its swordsmen, only the names of Xuanyuan Chao, yourself, Zheng Feng, and a few others. Could you tell me some of their stories?”

Qiu Tianhe had already discerned Ye Jingtang’s identity. Although their sword techniques were quite different, their initial moves were identical.

In his youth, Qiu Tianhe had faced Zheng Feng over a hundred times. They were rivals and friends. He knew that Zheng Feng’s relentless pursuit of the ‘right path’ was embodied in the flawless strike Ye Jingtang just displayed.

Since Zheng Feng had not come himself, and the sword now rested in Ye Jingtang’s hands, it could only mean Zheng Feng had gone ahead—crossing the bridge to the afterlife.

A shadow of melancholic change passed over Qiu Tianhe’s eyes as he understood Ye Jingtang’s purpose.

He spoke:

“Xuanyuan Chao was the current ‘Swordmaster’ of our time. His life and deeds are well known, no need for me to recount them. Xuanyuan Tiangang has long since retired from the martial world and is a topic best left untouched. As for Zheng Feng, he was but a fool.”

“Oh?” Ye Jingtang’s interest deepened. “What do you mean by that?”

Qiu Tianhe looked toward the courtyard.

“Come down and listen. It’s not a secret.”

Shang Jianli, seemingly interested in these old martial tales, swiftly leapt down silently and stood behind Ye Jingtang, hands clasped behind his back.

“I began training in the sword at age three. Now, after fifty-two years, I have met many friends and foes, yet aside from Xuanyuan Tiangang, all others have turned to dust. Zheng Feng was not outstanding among them but suited my tastes well—he was a confidant.”

Qiu Tianhe stared at Ye Jingtang.

“In his day, Zheng Feng was as sharp and spirited as you, though not as handsome, and his talent was slightly less. We had agreed that when we both mastered our swordsmanship, we would first defeat the old Xuanyuan, then duel at Junshan Terrace to decide the next ‘Swordmaster.’ But Zheng Feng broke that promise.”

“Why?”

“That boy was close with Xuanyuan Tiangang and had been to Junshan Terrace several times. He met Xuanyuan Tiangang’s daughter, Xuanyuan Shuye, and they became betrothed.”

Xuanyuan Shuye...

Ye Jingtang frowned subtly, sensing this name was likely connected to his own family name, Ye.

“Zheng Feng was deeply in love and formally proposed marriage. But at that time, the court was selecting palace maids, and Xuanyuan Tiangang hoped to send his daughter to the palace as a consort. To force his daughter’s compliance, he deliberately goaded Zheng Feng to ‘speak with his sword.’”

Qiu Tianhe sighed softly.

“Zheng Feng was not yet a grandmaster then. How could he challenge Xuanyuan Tiangang? Yet he drew his sword anyway. Xuanyuan Tiangang never intended to marry off his daughter to him. To make Zheng Feng give up, he struck hard—though he spared his life, Zheng Feng was rendered a cripple.”

Ye Jingtang knew his foster father had remained unmarried and childless, drowning his sorrows in wine daily. Upon hearing this, his expression tightened slightly.

“And then?”

“After that day, Zheng Feng vanished from the martial world. I never saw him again. He likely passed away before me.”

Ye Jingtang fell silent for a moment before asking,

“What became of Xuanyuan Shuye?”

From behind, Shang Jianli answered,

“In the second year of Cheng’an, the court selected well-born girls for the palace. Xuanyuan Shuye was among the candidates. Near the Yunzhou border, Qiu Tianhe stormed the escort caravan, fighting off eight blade wounds to rescue Xuanyuan Shuye. Since then, he fled the law, hunted by the court and Junshan Terrace for nearly thirty years until his capture by the Black Bureau last year.”

...

Ye Jingtang’s heart jolted, staring at Qiu Tianhe in disbelief.

Qiu Tianhe smiled faintly.

“Zheng Feng and I were rivals and friends. After he disappeared, Xuanyuan Shuye secretly sought me out, asking me to find Zheng Feng and tell him she would be waiting at the Bridge of Helplessness.”

“I had no idea where Zheng Feng was hiding. Unable to bear these human sorrows, I single-handedly stormed the wedding convoy, abducted Xuanyuan Shuye, and spent ten years with her searching for Zheng Feng. From the southern mountains to desolate grasslands; from eastern cliffs to the northwest deserts—we still do not know his whereabouts.”

Ye Jingtang fell silent for a long while, then softly said,

“Master Qiu, your loyalty and righteousness are indeed admirable.”

Qiu Tianhe shook his head.

“I have also wronged Zheng Feng. We traversed the land for ten years, Xuanyuan Shuye faithfully by my side. From hopeful youth to despair, from tender years to weathered faces, time bred affection, and in the end, I married her. Do you think, young man, that makes me a villain?”

His question was sincere; it seemed Qiu Tianhe bore a deep guilt.

Ye Jingtang did not see his foster father as faithless. His foster father often spoke highly of Qiu Tianhe, even in drunken ramblings, clearly aware of what had transpired.

His foster father had been wounded by Xuanyuan Chao and could no longer give a woman a lifetime of happiness. He had quietly withdrawn, perhaps believing this was the best outcome.

Since his foster father chose this path, how could Ye Jingtang, as his son, judge right or wrong?

“If Zheng Feng had hidden his name and vanished, he would not have been unaware of Qiu Tianhe’s deeds. If Zheng Feng remains silent, no one else has the right to criticize Qiu Tianhe.”

“Heh heh...”

Qiu Tianhe chuckled twice.

“These matters, I will discuss with Zheng Feng when we meet. Who is right or wrong can only be decided face to face. Come now, the affairs of old swordsmen are no concern for fledglings like you. Just don’t become like Zheng Feng and let Xuanyuan Tiangang hold the title of Swordmaster for another thirty years.”

“Master Qiu, take care. I bid you farewell.”

With that, Ye Jingtang stood and bowed, then, together with Shang Jianli, leapt out of the courtyard.

Qiu Tianhe leaned against the wall, watching until the iron grate closed and their footsteps faded, then sighed quietly.

“A new generation replaces the old... You’ve endured hardships and emerged a fine son, while I have angered Heaven’s wrath. What justice is there in that...”

...