Chapter 342: Thorn in the Flesh

Chapter 342: Thorn in the Eye, Splinter in the Flesh

Yang Bai Ze restrained the smile on his face, fell silent for a moment, then asked with concern: "How have you fared in Chongqing Prefecture?"

A warmth spread through Pei Xing Jian’s heart as he laughed loudly: "Fear not, old man. I eat well, sleep soundly. That fool Gu Xi, who thought he’d struck gold, has been hounded by Qingcheng Group’s men every few days—his guts must regret it by now."

At these words, Pei Xing Jian rubbed his jaw in some melancholy, adding, "Still, I must find a way to keep him alive. If he dies before you return from the Wa district, the Daoist sect will have already claimed his life."

"Let him die," Yang Bai Ze replied indifferently. "The Gu family’s true foundation lies in Jinling City anyway."

Pei Xing Jian nodded. "True enough. Killing some unworthy illegitimate brat serves no purpose. To avenge them, we must uproot the entire Gu clan—root and branch!"

Yang Bai Ze hummed, studying the composed elder, yet still felt uneasy.

"Are you truly unharmed?"

"Is having loose bowels after eating too many chili peppers a hardship?"

Pei Xing Jian chuckled, waving his hand. "Since the New Dawn, the New Donglin Party leader has declared he’ll step down after the reforms. Now the entire empire’s eyes are fixed on you young officials dispatched to the sinner’s district."

"Though that old fox often breaks his word—back in the day, his seamless lies doomed many a eunuch—he won’t dare falsify matters of such consequence to his reputation."

Pei Xing Jian sneered. "He’s crossed the century threshold now. To survive, he must surrender a lifetime of purity to the Daoist hierarchy. Given his nature, he won’t risk it. Moreover, the New Donglin Party has stagnated into a puddle of stagnant water, thanks to his decades monopolizing its leadership. If he wishes to avoid being cast down by those students who’ve endured enough, he must seize this chance."

"This reform in the sinner’s district is his final masterpiece. Whoever grants him eternal fame shall reap boundless wealth."

"Now, anyone who dares slight him will be killed. Thus, the Three Teachings and Nine Schools dare not act—so no one stirs trouble in Chongqing."

Pei Xing Jian stretched lazily. "This calm bores me. Had I known, I’d have kept you in Chongqing and gone to the Wa district myself."

"If you came, they’d think the empire seeks to slaughter them, not civilize them," Yang Bai Ze replied with a smile.

Pei Xing Jian’s face hardened. "Do I have such a wretched reputation?"

"Your title as the ‘Imperial Chick and Owl’—the students heard of it upon arriving in the Wa district."

"Blame my youth during the Longwu Emperor’s eastern campaigns. I was too young, too reckless."

Pei Xing Jian sighed, then furrowed his brow angrily. "But these Wa people’s naming skills are so crude! ‘Chick and Owl’—I’d rather have night snacks! The very sound turns my stomach!"

"Enough, let’s return to the matter."

Pei Xing Jian spoke seriously. "Since you aim to make a name for yourself in these reforms, I’ve no right to hinder you. Yet heed my warning: beware the Four Great Companies and the Houtu Organization."

"The Wa district’s powers now form a tripartite balance: the Xuanwei Guard, the Four Great Companies, and Houtu. The Four Great Companies hold a peculiar position—they both oppose and cooperate with the other two."

"This reform will strike Houtu first. If allowed to proceed, they’ll lose all footholds, no place to stand. Yet the Four Great Companies won’t stand idle. When the rabbit dies, the hounds feast—these Wa people may be fools, but they grasp such truths."

Pei Xing Jian sat upright, his weathered eyes gleaming with chill.

"I suspect they’ll exploit this chaos, commit acts of folly beyond reckoning."

"Thus, the Quan Shan City under your charge will become their thorn in the eye, splinter in the flesh. To achieve the desired deterrent, you alone must be struck down!"

"All this turmoil is but a prelude. The true test of whether the Wa district’s reforms succeed lies in whether Quan Shan City holds—and whether you, as the Xuanwei Guard’s deputy, stand firm!"

The elder’s words rang sharp as blades, striking the ground like clashing swords.

Though separated by millions of miles, that killing intent felt tangible, sending a shiver through Yang Bai Ze’s body.

"Disciple Yang Bai Ze shall not disappoint you, Master!" Yang Bai Ze bowed deeply.

"Resolve set, then act freely. If you cannot return home in glory, I’ll personally bring a bolt of white cloth to the Wa district and gather your bones!"

On the northern streets of Quan Shan City, two figures cloaked in wind and snow moved slowly forward.

"I’ve heard the Liaodong Provincial Daoist order has lost over a hundred members on the imperial mainland."

Fan Wujiu patted the shoulder of the man beside him, teasing: "Old Chen, not worried at all?"

"If worry helped, I’d recite the *Classic of Virtue* a hundred times, beseeching those who’ve committed such crimes to return them. But it’s futile."

Chen Qisheng grumbled: "Besides, the Daoist sect didn’t send only me. A Daoist friend dies not, but a poor Daoist does. If they’re not in a hurry, why should I be?"

"You’re impossible. If you’re not worried, why cling to me like a shadow to gather intelligence?"

Fan Wujiu sneered. "Old Chen, your worst flaw is dishonesty. At this juncture, still hiding things?"

"You misunderstand—I am what I am, never one to deceive."

"Is that so? Quite the character."

Fan Wujiu raised an eyebrow. "Then why not return? It’s just a matter of asking questions—I can handle it alone."

"We’ve come this far, and we’re nearly there. Why turn back now?"

Chen Qisheng grinned. "I’ve often heard of the Imperial Guards’ might back home. Now that they’ve wilted, I’ve finally come to the Wa district—might as well witness it firsthand."

"Let’s agree: you’ll obey my commands. This informant took great effort to cultivate. With countless channels in Quan Shan City, he’s a keen-eared, far-sighted ally—though his temper’s foul, loving to confess under blows."

Fan Wujiu halted, speaking gravely: "So when you act, tread carefully. Don’t accidentally kill him."

"Fear not—I know restraint. Even if I did, I could revive him."

Chen Qisheng patted his chest. "Shall I train him as a Yellow Turban Warrior? Guaranteed effective."

"Don’t mention those two words—I can’t control myself when I hear them."

Chen Qisheng grinned sheepishly. "Understood. That’s a side effect of failed cultivation, right? It won’t last—another month and it’ll pass."

Fan Wujiu snapped: "Still talking?"

"No more, no more."

The Daoist shut his mouth, eyes wide, ears alert.

Before an unremarkable dwelling, Fan Wujiu surveyed the place, confirmed its accuracy, then slowly raised his right foot toward the door.

At the moment he prepared to strike, a sudden impulse made him turn toward the street’s end.

There stood a figure in the snow, silently watching them.

*Thud!*

The steel-reinforced door crashed open, wind and snow rushing in.

Yet Fan Wujiu still caught a faint metallic stench in the cold air, rapidly fading.

Blood?!

A mechanical heart stirred in Fan Wujiu’s chest as he lunged toward the figure.

But by the time he arrived, snow blanketed the sky, the figure vanished without trace.

Only a torn android face lay in the snow.

Had Zou Sijiu been present, he’d have recognized the face clutched in Fan Wujiu’s hand—the very member of the Wa district’s Houtu organization he’d met.

Songshan!