Farewell, until we meet again in the world of wandering heroes.
Zong Mansion.
Zhang Ling searched the entire Zong Mansion, even entering Zong Chentian’s study, but still could not find him.
“Where is he?”
He placed the clothes on the table and began to pace back and forth inside the study.
“Come to think of it, this is my first time entering Uncle Zong’s study. I should take a good look around.”
In truth, Zhang Ling was curious to see if the usually solemn Zong Chentian had any peculiar habits. He rummaged through the bookshelves but found only historical records and political treatises.
He flipped through them at random. “I wonder why Zong Chentian, a merchant in medicine, bothers with these.”
Leaning against the bookshelf, Zhang Ling sighed.
A dull click rang out.
Suddenly, the bookshelf and the wall behind him shifted aside, revealing a secret chamber.
Zhang Ling stepped inside, and his eyes widened at the sight of piles of gold, silver, and jewels. Porcelain, jade, and renowned paintings adorned shelves and walls. He stood frozen, never before having seen such wealth.
With the gaze of a true miser, his heart fluttered. “I never expected Uncle Zong to hide so much money.”
Remembering how he never even had a monthly stipend, he chuckled to himself. “A penny short can fell a hero. How can one roam the world without funds? Well, I’ll just ‘borrow’ a little.”
He began stuffing silver notes into the embroidered robe and the green boots, leaving no seam empty. When he finished, he must have gathered over a hundred thousand taels.
In the midst of his pillaging, a box tumbled from a shelf. Inside was but a single slip of paper: For Zhang Ling.
Outside the Prefect’s Mansion.
A middle-aged man strode through the gates, unchallenged, moving with practiced ease through the halls. The servants stepped aside for him, and he entered the main hall, sitting directly in the grand chair reserved for the master.
Shortly after, a man in official robes entered—the Prefect of Luochuan County, Jiang Shouheng.
Behind him followed a plainly dressed scholar, elegant in manner and impeccable in etiquette.
Jiang Shouheng and the scholar both knelt before Zong Chentian, respectfully addressing him: “Greetings, Lord Chen.”
In all Luochuan County, only these two knew the true identity of the man before them and another, famed for his unrivaled medical skill. Jiang Shouheng had been shocked when he first learned—both for their martial prowess and their status, far beyond common reach.
One was the former emperor’s personally appointed Prince Chen. The other, master of the Medicine King Valley in the northern plains, renowned for healing the world and lauded as the “Saint of Medicine.” Both were rare grandmasters in martial arts.
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The middle-aged man gestured for them to rise. Jiang Shouheng respectfully inquired, “May I ask what brings Your Highness here today?”
The man sat quietly, eyes closed, recalling memories, and then suddenly rose with a sigh. “Seventeen years have passed.”
Jiang Shouheng seemed to understand, remaining silent.
The man asked, “Is the jade pendant still safe?”
Jiang Shouheng hastily replied, “Rest assured, Your Highness—the pendant is intact.”
“I’ll fetch it at once.” Jiang Shouheng turned, and soon returned, carrying a box which he carefully placed in Zong Chentian’s hands.
Opening the box, he revealed a pendant crafted from two types of jade: red jade carved as a soaring dragon, white jade as a phoenix. Each half was exquisitely sculpted, fitting together as if made by nature itself.
Just as he closed the box, a strikingly handsome young man entered. The two men below were astounded; this was only the second time they had seen both these figures together—the last time was seventeen years ago.
They bowed again, addressing, “Greetings, Saint of Medicine.”
The middle-aged man asked, “Why have you come?”
The young man, seeing Zhang Ling that day and the box in the elder’s hand, understood all.
With a hint of anger in his eyes, he replied, “Someone tried to harm Xiao Ling. The owner of Le Silver Gambling House, Qian Le, gambled with him and lost, then attempted to kill him. I’ve already dealt with him.”
“You are a healer, not suited for cutting out evil roots,” the elder shook his head.
He signaled to Jiang Shouheng.
“I will see to it immediately.” With that, Jiang Shouheng withdrew.
The scholar followed, finally speaking, “The prince and the Saint of Medicine have both come for the same person.”
Jiang Shouheng naturally guessed, “Zhang Ling?”
“Yes,” the scholar nodded, “But do you know who this young man is?”
Jiang Shouheng looked at him curiously.
The scholar continued, “Seventeen years ago, General Ming Ze took his wife to the battlefield, leaving behind a son.”
Jiang Shouheng was stunned. “Are you certain?”
The scholar nodded, firm and unwavering. “Absolutely. And it appears Zhang Ling will soon leave Luochuan County.”
Jiang Shouheng was at a loss, unsure how to proceed. As always, he turned to the scholar for guidance. “What do you think I should do now?”
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The scholar replied, “There is nothing you need do at present. Zhang Ling is sure to go to the capital. Whichever side he chooses, they are not ones we can afford to provoke. The prince’s retrieval of the pendant is proof of your loyalty in safeguarding it.”
“What if Zhang Ling had lost?”
The scholar answered with confidence, “Impossible. Rest assured, your time to shine is not far off.”
Jiang Shouheng was finally reassured, for the scholar’s predictions had never failed. He sighed deeply, “The skies above Chen are about to change.”
Soon after, Jiang Shouheng ordered Le Silver Gambling House to be sealed, officially for smuggling contraband, though no one knew the real reason was that its owner had offended a certain youth.
The next day.
Zhang Ling was already waiting at the west city gate. After some time, Zhang Jingqian, Huang Hao, and others came to see him off. As everyone departed, Zong Chentian was still nowhere to be seen.
Zhang Ling asked Zhang Jingqian, “Why hasn’t Uncle Zong come yet?”
Zhang Jingqian smiled, comforting him, “He’ll be here soon.”
In the morning light, a figure appeared at the gate. Together, they watched Zong Chentian approach. He handed a jade pendant to Zhang Ling, who immediately recognized it as a token exchanged by lovers—a man and a woman. Puzzled, he asked, “Why give this to me?”
Zong Chentian’s expression was stern. “It belonged to your parents. Keep it.”
Zhang Ling took the pendant, and Zong Chentian reminded him again, “When you reach the capital, guard it well.”
Zhang Ling understood; if his martial skills could be recognized, so too could this token.
Then Zong Chentian handed him a short sword. Before Zhang Ling could ask, he explained, “All martial arts share common roots. If you can wield your fingers as swords with ‘Softness Around the Fingers,’ you can certainly use a real sword.”
Zhang Ling looked at him, “Is there anything else?”
Zong Chentian said nothing, and Zhang Ling knew there was nothing further to discuss. Even forced conversation would not elicit another word.
Only Zhang Jingqian smiled and urged him, “Stay safe.”
Zhang Ling turned and set out toward Mu Qingchen Road, vanishing into the distant horizon.