Chapter 137: Gusu Tang Family

Chapter 137: The Tang Family of Gusu

“Though our Tang family is in Gusu, Gusu does not bear the Tang name—unlike the Cui family in Qinghe.” Inside the carriage, Tang Buqi reclined against his young maid, leisurely sipping wine as he gave Zhao Changhe a brief overview of Gusu: “Our Tang family is not a top-tier noble house like the Cui family; it’s not a fair comparison. I suggest you keep your eyes on Cui Yuanyang, ah, and don’t think about anything else.”

Zhao Changhe, leaning against the carriage wall with a look of exasperation—one propped by a maid, the other by the wall—was already in a foul mood, and these words only made his head ache: “If you’re introducing Gusu, just introduce Gusu. Why drag the Cui family into it?”

Tang Buqi replied with some satisfaction: “Isn’t this to help you make a direct comparison?”

“I don’t need your comparison to know that anyone who hears ‘Qinghe Cui’ knows it. Has anyone ever heard of ‘Gusu Tang’? You’re like a weakling strutting around proudly.”

“…The Tang family is at least a renowned house in the current dynasty! We have merit from aiding the founding! How could anyone not have heard of us? Who’s calling whom a weakling, you bandit from the Northern Mang?”

“I reckon if it weren’t for Tang Wanzhuang—ranking in the top three at a young age, a first-rank minister of the current court—she’s the one propping up this family. If it were all up to you… tsk, it’s not hard to imagine the swallows before the Tang hall flying into a bandit’s home someday…”

Tang Buqi glared angrily: “Every family has members focused on scholarly pursuits; it’s not all about martial arts to govern the realm!”

“Is that so? Why was your aunt in such a rush to break through that she injured her lung meridian? I suggest your family think carefully. Don’t just lean on her desperate efforts, lounging against a little maid eating grapes—you’re practically drinking her blood.”

Tang Buqi paused, his anger fading into a daze as he stared at the wine without speaking.

Zhao Changhe eyed him sidelong for a long moment, then finally dropped the subject and turned to the main point: “So, Gusu has quite a few families of varying sizes, right? With your aunt’s position as the head of the Demon Suppression Bureau, your family should be the leading force here.”

“…Correct.”

“By the way, is there a Gusu Murong family? I think they’re more famous than the Tang family.”

“Never heard of it. Where do you get all this nonsense?”

“Do you have any leads on that suspected baleful energy site? Is it the Sword Pool at Tiger Hill?”

Tang Buqi looked somewhat astonished: “Hey, where did you learn so much about Gusu? Haven’t you spent your whole life in the north?”

“Hmm, does that mean I guessed right?”

“Right my foot! The Sword Pool at Tiger Hill is right in our family’s back mountain!”

Zhao Changhe: “Damn.”

“But come to think of it, a long time ago—or rather, in the last era—there were indeed claims about baleful energy at Tiger Hill’s Sword Pool, suggesting a baleful sword might be hidden there. But our family has enclosed that area, and generations before us have thoroughly scoured it—nothing was found. So this recent talk probably has nothing to do with it.”

Zhao Changhe stroked his chin, lost in thought. Maybe it wasn’t entirely unrelated. Based on the experience at the Ancient Sword Lake, there might be a hidden realm, but with your family’s experts constantly patrolling, the realm might have simply closed.

“Has your family had any ghost stories? Anyone afflicted by baleful energy? Could your aunt’s illness be connected to this?”

“I know what you’re thinking… but unfortunately, no. My aunt’s illness came from the capital last year, not from home.”

“…” Zhao Changhe still felt that possibility existed. Based on current experience, anything related to the “last era” fell beyond the understanding of this world’s low-level martial artists; it was normal for them to be clueless.

Of course, this was just one possibility, not fact. The truth would only be known after exploring Gusu.

“What about other rumors? On what basis did Fayuan conclude that the item was more likely in Gusu?”

“How would I know what Fayuan based his judgment on? That reply wasn’t even finished.”

Just as they were discussing, the young maid who had been feeding Tang Buqi wine and grapes spoke hesitantly: “There were rumors before we left. In the southern market, someone suddenly went mad and started slashing people. A passing young master from the Lu family struck him dead on the spot. At first, it was thought to be an isolated incident, but later that same young master Lu also went mad. People said it was a qi deviation. Then we left, and I don’t know what happened afterward.”

Tang Buqi was taken aback: “Young master Lu? Could it be Lu Shaoxiong? That fellow and I have some acquaintance—how come I haven’t heard?”

The maid glanced at him cautiously: “At that time, young master, you were drunk in the Flower Alley for five days. The young mistress was crying at home… When you came back, the master scolded you and sent you out to gain experience.”

Tang Buqi’s face turned the color of pig liver.

Zhao Changhe turned his head to look out the window.

The rest of the journey was silent; the conversation had been killed dead.

At first glance, an incident of someone going mad and slashing, or a qi deviation, was common enough to mean nothing. But since the two events were connected, and precisely in the context of the Maitreya Sect searching for this baleful site, it was well worth investigating.

…

Yangzhou was not far from Gusu, and the group sped up, arriving quickly.

Strangely, the closer they got to Gusu, the lighter the eerie atmosphere of the Maitreya Sect became. There were no scenes of people worshipping Buddha or Maitreya, nor did they hear anyone talking about “Supreme Buddha” or “Bodhisattva” everywhere.

There were temples, but they were very quiet.

It seemed that even though the Maitreya Sect had spread across Jiangnan, they dared not show their faces easily in Gusu, Tang Wanzhuang’s stronghold. Even if they had a presence, it was done covertly, infiltrating slowly—far better than the situation in Yangzhou.

But Zhao Changhe still had an intuition that the Maitreya Sect would not wait until everything was fully ripe.

The Yangzhou incident must have been a massive blow to the Maitreya Sect. With the lists and information uncovered, tracing the clues would likely unravel years of their development around Yangzhou. The sect leader, Maitreya, would probably not sit idly by and let this continue; there was a high chance he would act early.

At the time of the Yangzhou incident, Maitreya was in Jinling searching for the baleful treasure, unaware of what had happened. But by now, he surely knew, and had likely returned to the main altar to prepare. The trigger might well be the information relayed after Chi Li’s return—once the barbarians marched south, the Jiangnan Maitreya Sect would surely rise in revolt.

This was the obvious deduction.

In this process, the Maitreya Sect would not let Gusu, that pure land surrounded by Jiangnan yet untouched by their influence, slip by. They would surely make a move. Without proper precautions, the Tang family’s downfall might come abruptly.

At this moment, Gusu was likely enjoying its last days of peace.

Zhao Changhe wondered if Tang Wanzhuang, after receiving the report from Yangzhou, would think of all this. For now, Tang Buqi seemed oblivious, and the Tang family even more so.

Upon arriving at the Tang estate, there was not a hint of the impending storm. Servants bustled to and fro, and from a distant pavilion came the sound of strings and songs. A crowd gathered around Tang Buqi, fussing over him:

“The young master has returned!”

“The young master must have had a hard journey… Oh, you’ve gotten tanned.”

“I heard the young master single-handedly killed barbarians, brilliantly solved the prefect’s assassination case, and foiled the Maitreya Sect’s plot in Yangzhou!”

“The young master truly brings us honor!”

If Zhao Changhe hadn’t been by his side, Tang Buqi would have puffed out his chest and basked in the adulation. But feeling Zhao Changhe’s sidelong, half-smiling gaze, Tang Buqi only wanted to cover his face: “Enough, enough. A few trivial matters aren’t worth boasting about. Prepare a guest courtyard and take good care of my guest.”

The servants glanced at Zhao Changhe. Though they knew he was the thirty-eighth on the Hidden Dragon List, far stronger than anyone present, there was a faint, barely perceptible disdain in their eyes.

The young master really would befriend anyone. Once, he suspected an old beggar was a hidden master and invited him home with great hospitality, only to find out he was truly just a beggar—infuriating the master. And now, he brings back a rogue from the martial world…

Of course, they dared not show this attitude in front of Tang Buqi; the young master could throw a fit and beat them.

A steward bowed obsequiously: “Young Master Zhao, please follow me. A quiet guest courtyard awaits—I guarantee your satisfaction.”

Zhao Changhe took in everyone’s expressions and smiled faintly.

A noble house… The home Tang Wanzhuang protected.

He couldn’t be bothered with them, only saying: “Any lodging will do. Just make sure my horse is well cared for. Then send someone to take me to the back mountain—I want to see the Sword Pool at Tiger Hill first.”