Chapter 197: Above the Bronze Tower

Chapter 197: Atop the Copper Tower

The Copper Tower of Hongya Mountain, the Feiliu Pavilion.

The tightly shut gates were kicked open with a single blow, and a figure drenched in blood stumbled inside.

The sudden rush of cold wind lifted the curtains by the bed; the surrounding walls flickered with chaotic light and shadow, revealing the mouths and tongues hidden beneath, faintly visible.

Clang.

A bloodied arm smashed onto the floorboards. The severed end was jagged and uneven, rotten flesh mixed with sharp bone splinters—it was clear it had been crushed by a blunt weapon.

Cao Cang, covered in blood, leaned against the wall. Unlike his usual stiff expression, he forced out an unspeakably ugly smile.

"That brat Gong Qinghong is too vigilant. He has a retinue of guards swindled and cheated into service, and with one foot already in the Seventh Rank of Zongheng, killing him in a group fight is simply impossible."

He lifted his eyes, gazing at the figure flickering deep within the curtains, and smiled bitterly to himself: "I ambushed him, yet all I could bring back was a single arm."

"Cao Cang, have you a death wish? Didn't I tell you Gong Qinghong joined the Honghu? Why did you still go hunting him?!"

A voice cold as frost suddenly rang out.

Yuan Mingfei, clad in crimson, materialized before Cao Cang like a wraith.

A snow-white hand reached from her red sleeve, seizing Cao Cang's collar and hauling him up bodily.

"Mechanical body severely damaged, but the mechanical heart is fine. What about the brain? Is the brain injured?"

A strapping seven-foot man, a fellow of iron bones and steely resolve, now dangled like a toy in a woman's grip, turned this way and that for inspection.

Cao Cang's face flushed red; he couldn't help but snap: "Hey, old hag, seen enough? Let go of me!"

"What did you call me?!"

Yuan Mingfei's willow-leaf brows arched high above her phoenix eyes, killing intent permeating her words, chilling to the bone.

"This mechanical heart of yours was installed by this old lady herself. What part haven't I seen? You're still fully clothed—what are you yelling about?"

Cao Cang's mouth tightened. Though he dared not speak further, he absolutely refused to yield.

However, after this commotion, much of the worry in Yuan Mingfei's eyes dissipated.

She released Cao Cang's collar, glanced at the crusted blood on his face, and said irritably: "With that brain of yours, you still went to kill a Honghu man. Surviving is sheer luck!"

Yuan Mingfei turned and sat in a round-backed chair, her posture as sprawling and bold as any man's.

"Speak. Where did you get your intelligence?"

Cao Cang muttered: "What intelligence?"

The woman raged: "Still playing dumb with me? Even I and the Wind Marshal don't know Gong Qinghong's whereabouts. How did you find out?"

"You and that fatty Jin Shenghuo just dare not know, right?" Cao Cang reverted to his usual cold indifference.

"Knowing is enough! Who are the Honghu? Rebels!"

Yuan Mingfei's voice was sharp as a blade. "These people are a festering, pus-oozing scab. Touch them, and you must cut bone and gouge flesh to escape. If he doesn't come back for me, I'll thank the heavens!"

The woman exclaimed in exasperation: "Others avoid them like the plague, yet you—you actually have the gall to hunt them down. I truly don't know what goes on in that head of yours!"

Cao Cang fell silent for a moment, then ground out four stiff words: "He is a traitor."

Yuan Mingfei flicked her crimson sleeve. "Don't talk to me of traitors. Am I not a traitor myself?"

'If he had defected to one of the other "Eight Generals," I would never forgive him. But he joined the Honghu—that's not desertion, that's a promotion!'

"Circumstances dictate; one must adapt. How did you tame that monkey-mind of yours, yet remain so stubbornly pigheaded?"

Rapid words came one atop another, leaving one breathless.

For no reason, Cao Cang suddenly missed himself in the Overclocked state.

That wild, untamable other half—he could have argued a few rounds with Yuan Mingfei.

Though more likely, they would have come to blows.

Yuan Mingfei, face full of irritation, pulled a pipe from her sleeve, clamped it between her lips, and took a harsh drag.

"Men from Dazhao Temple could arrive at any moment. If the situation changes, we'll have to run. I've told you this before—why won't you listen."

The woman's nagging halted abruptly; a flash of realization leaped in her eyes, veiled by smoke.

"Gong Qinghong's trail—was it Li Jun who told you?"

Cao Cang pressed his lips shut, saying nothing.

"A brute with a brain smaller than a dung beetle—how would he know."

Yuan Mingfei slapped her thigh hard; five vivid red fingerprints bloomed on her skin. "That's it! He's been to the Peace Hotel—he must be mixed up with that fortune-teller surnamed Zou!"

"So Li Jun's condition for cooperating with us was for you to kill Gong Qinghong? Using his head as a pledge of allegiance?"

Anger surfaced on Yuan Mingfei's face. Coldly: "Yes or no?!"

"The Honghu's vengeance—I alone will bear it."

Though Cao Cang did not answer Yuan Mingfei's question, his words amounted to a full confession.

"You—"

Yuan Mingfei looked at Cao Cang's indifferent expression, wanting to berate him, but it finally dissolved into a helpless sigh.

It was all karma she had sown herself; whether the fruit was bitter or sweet, she alone must bear it.

"To think I was dragged under by you. I underestimated you, Lone Tyrant Li Jun."

Meanwhile, just above this Feiliu Pavilion.

A lean man stood at the tower's edge, head tilted, gazing down at the Zhongyu District gradually bathed in dawn light, brush in hand, painting on a scroll of white paper.

But on closer look, one would see that though he held a writing brush, its tip was wrapped in a layer of gaudy, sticky pigment.

What he dipped in was not the Empire's usual ink, but oil paints shipped from the Western barbarians.

A scene meant for lofty, ethereal brushwork and ink-wash landscapes suddenly exuded a bizarre, absurd, and heretical air.

Though the painting style was strange, one had to admit the man's skill was superb.

In a short time, a bustling city, cleared by rain and waking with the rising sun, leaped onto the paper.

As the man filled in details, he murmured: "This Chongqing Prefecture—neither Confucian, nor Daoist, nor Buddhist, nor Military. No single hand covers the sky, no single house dominates. Though the terrain is rugged, it is a rare place in the Empire today where a hundred schools contend."

"Good customs breed talent; more talent brings more wealth. If everyone coexists harmoniously here, harmony begets prosperity."

"If someone does wrong, punish the guilty alone—just as you often say: execute the ringleader."

"But dragging in whole clans, exterminating entire families at every turn—isn't that excessive? After all, we rely on these people to make money."

The man turned, revealing a face of exquisite beauty, and smiled softly: "You agree, don't you? Constable Yan, Lord Yan."

Dark robes, snow-white curly beard, left hand hooked on the tiger-patterned copper belt at his waist.

His aged face was furrowed with deep lines; his eyes, opening and closing, could not hide their piercing brilliance.

"Zhang Ruzhen, are you teaching me how to do my job?"

"I dare not. This humble eunuch merely reminds Constable Yan: it's best not to be too ruthless in future. If you bring trouble down on the Grand Master upstairs, none of us will have a good time!"

Yan Bahuang's voice was stiff: "The Great Ming Code decrees: rebels—exterminate the entire clan!"

The man’s smile was effeminate. "Can things still be as they were in days past?"

"Mountains and rivers may change, but the statutes do not."

"Good, good, good. I merely offered a small reminder, that is all. Since Lord Yan refuses to listen, I shall say no more."

Zhang Ruzhen broke into a smile. "Should the day come when you restore the Northern Bastion Office to its former glory, I must beg the favor of a chance to gaze upon the venerable ancestors locked within the Imperial Prison."

"Please, go upstairs. That Lord is already waiting."