Chapter 79: The Dust Settles

Chapter 79 The Dust Settles

Many in the Cui family only now belatedly realized that this duel seemed on the surface to be a farce stirred up by a reckless, hot-tempered ruffian like Zhao Changhe who had no regard for the occasion, and that Cui Wenjing, doting on his daughter, had indulged this farce…

But in truth, from the moment Zhao Changhe spoke, his hidden intent was to use the intimidating nature of his blade technique to frighten a weak-willed scion like Cui Yuanteng into confessing on his own.

The crucial evidence they lacked—wasn’t this it!

This was no mindless outlaw; the rough and boorish image he had crafted was far too deceptive. Especially that scar on his face—if you said now that he had drawn it on deliberately, someone would believe you.

People studied the exchanged smiles between Cui Wenjing and Zhao Changhe, and a single thought rose in their minds: Damn, an old fox and a young one—forget being father-in-law and son-in-law, you two might as well just pair up yourselves. Look at Cui Yuanyang beside you, grinning foolishly with no clue what’s happening, like an outsider.

But why Cui Wenjue?

For the sake of the family head position?

Even for that, why target a child like Cui Yuanyang? Even if he truly killed her and pinned the blame firmly on Cui Yuanyong and Cui Yuancheng, it wouldn’t shake Cui Wenjing! Besides, the Cui family had the Qinghe Sword—solving such cases was easier for them than for others. What were you thinking?

Cui Wenjing also asked leisurely, “Second brother, what were you thinking? When you examine it closely, it’s the act of a fool.”

“Heh.” Since the rift was already open, Cui Wenjue spoke bluntly: “You lost the Qinghe Sword—what face do you have left to sit on the family head’s seat?”

Zhao Changhe thought to himself that this fellow had indeed been after the Qinghe Sword from the start… Deliberately setting up a suspicious case of a brother killing his sister with no clues—for the Cui family, the first reaction would be to summon the Qinghe Sword, and thus he could spy out its true state.

He must have been certain the Qinghe Sword had issues… Once it was exposed in front of everyone that the sword was flawed, Cui Wenjing would have to step down in disgrace. No matter its rank in the world, it wouldn’t matter—the traditions of a great clan had their own rules.

To that end, he had made multiple preparations: first, steering the narrative to pin suspicion firmly on the brothers Cui Yuanyong and Cui Yuancheng. If Cui Wenjing stubbornly protected them and dragged the matter out, it might not shake him directly, but when the next family head was contested, there would be ammunition…

If Cui Wenjing saw through it and expanded suspicion to everyone, then the Qinghe Sword could not be avoided—only through its power could all suspects be examined, and thus its flaw would be revealed.

But Cui Wenjing’s response was textbook: from the start, he refused to shield his own sons and threw them directly into prison. Throughout the process, he watched coldly, knowing full well who was steering the narrative and who was making the most noise. As for the tale of touching the sword… Cui Wenjue was almost certain that even if his son had truly touched it, Cui Wenjing could have made sure no black ash appeared on his hand! A man ranked ninth on the Heavenly List—how hard was it to trick a brat?

Even without Zhao Changhe, Cui Wenjing could have quelled this matter. The only lack was crucial evidence, which might have led to endless infighting between the two factions.

But now, there was nothing left to tear apart.

Cui Wenjing laughed softly: “The Qinghe Sword lost? What nonsense are you spouting?”

With that, he casually waved his hand.

The Qinghe Sword in his hand left his grip and flew back to the Bronze Hall, as if an invisible hand lifted it from below, steady and precise, landing back on the sword rack within the hall. What was especially wondrous was that during its flight back to the hall, the heavens seemed to respond—clouds parted like a curtain drawn aside by the divine sword’s passage, revealing the moon breaking through, the Milky Way shallow and clear, the bright moon serene.

Many of the clan elders trembled with emotion, their voices shaking: “Is this not a divine sword? Wenjue, blinded by greed, slandering your elder brother, fabricating tales against the divine sword—you deserve death ten thousand times!”

Cui Wenjue gave a soft “Heh” and ceased to argue.

Cui Wenjing was merely performing a trick—it was his own strength as the ninth in the world, not the glory of the divine sword. But now, with “irrefutable evidence,” Cui Wenjue had no standing to demand that Cui Wenjing display the sword’s wonders for all to see. Cui Wenjing could easily refuse with haughty airs: the divine sword was not a monkey show for your amusement—were you worthy?

The tide had turned.

He only said calmly to Cui Wenjing, “Elder brother, there are things you know in your heart.”

Cui Wenjing replied flatly, “What I know is this: no matter what you think has happened to the divine sword, if you acted for the clan, you would not have used such methods. So why say more?”

Cui Wenjue nodded: “Elder brother speaks truly.”

Cui Wenjing said slowly, “Cui Wenjue and Cui Yuanteng, harming kin within the clan, framing nephews, plotting for the family headship—by clan law, strip them of all positions, first imprison them in the celestial prison, pending the clan’s deliberation on punishment. The branch of Cui Wenjue is from this day forth to be entirely expelled and exiled to the northern frontier. As for the post of Qinghe Commandery Governor, I shall select another worthy candidate and recommend him to His Majesty.”

Cui Wenjue’s face ashen, he sighed and said nothing.

Zhao Changhe: “…”

A commandery governor, a high official of a border region—you dismiss him at will, replace him at will, act first and report later without needing the emperor’s consent?

Qinghe—yours?

—Our family isn’t all that afraid of that sovereign.

For the first time, Zhao Changhe truly understood the terror of a top-tier clan. In times of peace, it might be one thing, but in times of chaos, such a family was a power unto itself, ready to join the struggle for the throne at any moment—why would they need to heed the emperor’s whims?

If that was the case, then what did the Great Xia Dragonfinch mean by being placed here…

Cui Wenjing glanced at him and smiled, “Letting our guest witness a spectacle, Yuanyang.”

Cui Yuanyang had been in a daze; now she snapped back with an “Ah.”

“Take our guest to your father’s study. I’ll handle some loose ends here and come shortly—there are matters to discuss with him.”

Cui Yuanyang’s heart pounded wildly.

This was no longer the attitude toward a “son-in-law” whose fate was uncertain. Cui Wenjing’s study—who could enter it?

Who was the last outsider to enter?

Wang Daoning, master of the Langya Wang clan!

She wanted to run back and drag those gossiping maidservants to see: you thought this ruffian couldn’t enter my boudoir—now look where he’s going!

…

Cui Wenjing’s study was not much different from any scholar’s study, after all—Zhao Changhe couldn’t tell how precious the various implements were; they just looked elegant and tasteful.

The biggest difference was that in this place, Cui Yuanyang seemed to acquire an air of refinement. Her usual silly, adorable demeanor vanished, and she sat quietly brewing tea, gently rolling up her sleeves with a demure, graceful lady’s poise that Zhao Changhe found quite amusing.

“What are you staring at?” Cui Yuanyang dared not speak loudly, whispering with a pout, “This is the etiquette for receiving guests. Do you really think Yuanyang has no manners? I’ve practiced this!”

“Yes, yes, Yuanyang has practiced.” Zhao Changhe barely stifled a laugh. “What’s the story with this tea?”

“Biluochun.”

“…” Every time he encountered things identical to those in the modern world, Zhao Changhe felt jarred.

And this was already gongfu tea—the modern tricks of stir-frying tea and selling gongfu tea for profit were gone.

But Zhao Changhe knew the revelation wasn’t far off. Coming to the study now—wasn’t it precisely to discuss these things?

“I never imagined it would be Second Uncle,” Cui Yuanyang sighed. “Second Uncle is very important to the clan. Even that position alone isn’t something anyone can replace, and his influence is vast. Father must be quite troubled this time.”

Zhao Changhe said, “You should have been prepared. Only someone of that level could attempt a power grab. You should have known it wouldn’t be some minor branch or concubine’s son. Otherwise, why do you think others were so easily led astray, their minds only on your brothers? Because they weren’t high enough—stirring trouble would be useless.”

Cui Yuanyang murmured, “But I still don’t understand—what were they after?”

Zhao Changhe said, “If I’m not mistaken, your father is the true royalist, on the emperor’s side. Your second uncle might have been swayed by some rebels—his ultimate target wasn’t the Cui family, but the Great Xia.”

Laughter came from outside the door: “I’m a bit torn now. On one hand, I feel you’re a born wanderer of the jianghu, meant to ride in splendor and roam freely; on the other, you seem to have some political potential—you could try your hand at court.”

Zhao Changhe didn’t turn around: “Forget it. With my meager abilities, if I got involved in court affairs, I’d be devoured by you old foxes down to the bone.”

Cui Wenjing sat down across from him, happily sipped the tea his daughter handed him, and said leisurely, “So your heart lies in the jianghu, and you avoid all speculation about your identity? But now you ought to face it.”

Zhao Changhe asked in surprise, “Face what?”

Cui Wenjing savored his tea calmly: “The Great Xia Dragonfinch—do you want it?”

A gleam of light instantly flashed in Zhao Changhe’s eyes.

Could he really take it away?