Chapter 40: The Stirring of Mortal Intent

Southern lands of rare splendor, the old capital of three dynasties.

Even before the founding of Rong Kingdom, two nations had already established their capitals here. Perhaps it was because the founding emperor of Rong Kingdom once received the support of merchants during his uprising that he had always been tolerant of commerce. Even though Yuanjing was the seat of the capital, there was no curfew enforced here.

The night market thrived until the third watch, and by the fifth, it stirred to life again; places of amusement remained bustling throughout the night.

The flower market was festooned with colorful decorations and lanterns hung everywhere.

Amidst the throng of jostling shoulders and bustling crowds, Tong Jizhen moved forward, surrounded by a group of captains and lieutenants clearing his path. Even in the lively marketplace, none dared approach, leaving him a generous space.

“Will the Protector return home tonight, or visit the Chunhua Pavilion? I hear that famous performer, Ji, has sent quite a few notes to the general these days—our elder brother doesn’t shy from any delights, it seems.”

On Tong Jizhen’s left, a young armory supervisor with a blade at his waist teased him, prompting laughter from the rest.

“Always making sport of me? Sometimes I wish I could crush you all with a single punch!”

Tong Jizhen was tall and rugged, about thirty years old, his gaze fierce and intimidating. Yet, faced with the banter of his men, he responded with a jocular curse, unbothered.

“But, I must say… that Ji Yu is behaving oddly. Usually, he comes to me for silver, but lately he's been so enthusiastic?”

Tong Jizhen pondered for a moment, suspicion tugging at his heart, but desire soon overcame all else. He waved his hand.

“I’ll go to Chunhua Pavilion tonight alone. Leave two men to guard, the rest may return to their quarters. And remember, report my movements to the Grand General of the Pillar Kingdom—don’t neglect this!”

He grew serious, “We’re about to undertake a great endeavor; vigilance is needed inside and out. Watch your subordinates closely; don’t let the emperor’s people stir trouble.”

“The Grand General is like a celestial being—an exalted practitioner. What use are mortal troops, no matter how many? Could they shoot arrows to the heavens?” someone scoffed. “Protector, you are overcautious. With the Grand General, the fate of Rong Kingdom is ours!”

“True, but you speak half nonsense.” Tong Jizhen gave the speaker a measured kick. “Get lost! Remember what I’ve said, and make sure my movements are reported to the Grand General!”

His officers responded in unison and dispersed. Tong Jizhen, with only two close bodyguards, made his way to Chunhua Pavilion.

At the entrance, rows of brilliant lanterns lit the night with dazzling hues.

Dozens of handsome young men were busy pouring drinks for guests. Seeing Tong Jizhen enter, the matron hurried to greet him, but he was already familiar with the place and ignored her, leading his guards through several corridors to a neat little building.

Its beam-framed structure had two floors: the first was a reception hall adorned with blooming flowers; the second, a lodging chamber, its doors and windows painted a bright vermillion, and a yellow lantern hung unlit from the eaves.

Tong Jizhen looked up to see Ji Yu waving from the second floor. His eyes lit up, and he rushed inside, embracing him tightly.

“You two, go have some fun. Leave me be!” he said to his bodyguards as he kicked open the door, still holding Ji Yu. Once the door was closed behind them, his passion grew frenzied, and he impatiently hoisted Ji Ning over his shoulder, heading straight for the bed.

But as he passed the gilded landscape screen, Tong Jizhen was startled.

Inside the bedroom, there was another person.

He stood a few paces away, perfectly composed, playing with a thread of green light in his hand. His gaze was as deep and calm as a still pond, and when he looked at Tong Jizhen, it was as if he were sizing up a corpse.

---

“Damn!”

Tong Jizhen’s heart lurched. He tried to shout, but that emerald light shot forth, swift as lightning.

He barely managed to raise an inkstone to shield himself, but before it could reach his face, the green ray pierced his left eye, passing through his skull and bursting forth in a spray of blood and brain.

It looped around and pierced the right eye from behind, stopping before Chen Heng.

The entire attack took but an instant; Tong Jizhen’s inkstone had just risen, but without the infusion of his vital energy, its spirit dissipated and it fell to the floor.

Both were practitioners of the third level, but Chen Heng’s vital force was ten times greater. Fully empowered, his talisman tool killed Tong Jizhen as easily as slaughtering a dog.

Chen Heng gently shook the bamboo spike to clean it, gazing at the corpse and pondering,

“It seems the gap between practitioners is even greater than I imagined. But how did the technique ‘Primordial Essence’ end up in the hands of my former father? There must be something suspicious…”

He took the spatial pouch from Tong Jizhen’s body and put it away without inspecting it.

A violent retching sounded nearby.

“What’s wrong?” Chen Heng asked the one who now looked like Ji Yu, Tu Shan Zhuang. “Is it your first time witnessing a killing?”

“It’s the first time… a man has groped my backside…” Tu Shan Zhuang retched again. “That bastard couldn’t keep his hands to himself, damn it… He kept grabbing my ass when he hoisted me, ugh…”

Chen Heng handed him a cup of tea. Tu Shan Zhuang took it gratefully, rinsed his mouth, and finally recovered after some time.

“Master, I don’t understand. With powers like yours, why go to such lengths and have me sell my looks?”

Tu Shan Zhuang, still shaken, rubbed his backside. “Why not just storm the Tong family and kill them all? Why so cautious?”

“If Tong Gaolu were only an ordinary seventh-level practitioner, perhaps I would. But he possesses an external body-forging technique, and his mastery surpasses even the Daoist of Yang Mountain. I must be careful,” Chen Heng explained, rare for him to elaborate. “From Tong Yi’s interrogation, I learned Tong Gaolu’s flesh is immune to thunder and fire, impervious to blades, indestructible. Against such a foe, recklessness would be fatal. It’s best to find some allies.”

Tu Shan Zhuang was bewildered, though his face grew grim.

“Tu Shan Daoist, strip Tong Jizhen’s clothes and impersonate him. In the coming days, work with Tu Shan Zhuang to help me cover my tracks.”

At this, Tu Shan Ge hurried out from the side door.

Seeing the grisly corpse with its eyes destroyed, he jumped in fright. But upon seeing Tu Shan Zhuang retching, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Master, what if the royal family refuses to cooperate?” Tu Shan Ge feigned concern, patting Tu Shan Zhuang on the shoulder. “What then?”

“They are not worth negotiating with. If necessary, their nation will perish. I’ll visit the palace now,” Chen Heng said, slipping a mask over his face and shrouding himself in vital energy. He transformed into a formless, silent streak of light and shot skyward.

---

In less than half a cup of tea’s time.

Chen Heng saw the vast palace sprawling beneath him. He chose a particularly grand hall with blue-tiled eaves and descended.

Around the hall, many maids and eunuchs moved about, but with Chen Heng’s spiritual senses, none could perceive him.

He entered the hall as if unnoticed. Everywhere he looked, luxury and opulence abounded. The walls were studded with countless lamps and candles, brighter than daylight.

After passing several chambers, he heard laughter and splashing water from a heated room ahead, mingled with drifting scented mist.

Realizing he’d wandered into the wrong place, he turned to leave.

Just then, a young palace maid with her hair in twin buns and dressed in pale yellow gauze hurried over, carrying a flower basket and calling,

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, look…”

Her voice faded as she drew near.

The maid stood dumbly, flower basket in hand, staring blankly a dozen paces away.

There, a figure in plain white robes stood quietly. His face was masked with unpainted bamboo, and the eyes visible through the mask were dark and cold, as if soaked in snowmelt.

Seeing her freeze, he raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

Strangely, the maid blushed and nodded.

“Wait…”

Then, she shook her head hard, about to cry out.

But pain stabbed her neck, and she collapsed.

“Was that Ai just now? I’m about to bathe and change—go see what that girl is up to,” a sweet, charming woman’s voice sounded from within.

Several maids exited the heated room and, spotting Chen Heng, were startled. Chen Heng brushed his sleeve, rendering them unconscious with his vital energy.

At this point, even the dullest would sense something amiss.

The empress hesitated, draping a brocade robe over her shoulders, and slowly stepped out.

Her gaze found a man in white, back turned, tall and elegant.

“Forgive me,” he said calmly. “With a stranger present, it’s best not to change just yet, Your Majesty.”