Chapter 337: With Me, Unbeatable (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 337: Invincible as Long as I Am Here (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

Deep in the forest.

Song Jinjian wore a dark robe, his long sword slung at his waist, and wore a smile.

His countenance was beyond the common folk, with a pale face, a refined beard, and narrow, crimson eyes beneath his sword-brow—truly a sight of noble bearing.

Yet when Feng Erbao looked at him, his gaze would involuntarily drift to the long sword at his waist.

The sword named "Bu Zhan" (The Uncontested), whose name echoed loudly across the land.

According to legend, it had once belonged to a swordsman of a previous dynasty, discovered by an elder of the Cao family by chance. When Song Jinjian became a member of the Cao family, the patriarch gifted it to him, adding the widely circulated saying: "A renowned weapon meets a worthy master, bringing mutual enhancement."

The weapon was indeed a weapon, while whether the master was worthy, Feng Erbao made no judgment, nor did he bother to speak.

Song Jinjian’s martial arts prowess, though high, was merely a dog to the Cao family.

Song Jinjian cast a glance at Feng Erbao, bowed, and said, "Lord Feng, the emperor has specially ordered me to present you with a grand gift."

Feng Erbao instinctively brushed off his robe, his soft smile inquiring, "What is this grand gift?"

Song Jinjian slightly turned his body, saying, "Lord Feng, please follow me and take a step."

Feng Erbao’s eyes narrowed, his dark pupils filling his gaze as they wandered through the dense, shadowy forest, casting a more somber aura.

After about three breaths, he had not moved a foot. "Lead the way."

Song Jinjian smiled and nodded, taking the lead and walking into the forest with swift steps.

After Song Jinjian had walked ten paces, Feng Erbao finally followed in his footsteps.

Song Jinjian had earned his name in the martial world through extraordinary skill; otherwise, he would not have garnered the attention of the old monsters there.

He could, he believed, match wits with the "Sword Deity" Ye Lun within a time yet to come.

Yet Feng Erbao, as the imperial secretary who had served the emperor, had witnessed countless secrets and intelligence reports.

Among them was Song Jinjian—whose swordsmanship prized swiftness above all, differing greatly from the "Sword Deity" Ye Lun, but resembling the "Sword Immortal" Li Dang even more closely.

Precisely, Song Jinjian’s speed in swordplay was akin to Li Dang’s legendary technique "Clear Wind."

Known far and wide as "Invincible as Long as I Am Here."

Feng Erbao did not wish to draw too near, feeling a certain wariness.

Fortunately, he was spared the trouble in the end.

After traveling ten li, Song Jinjian stopped by a tree, pointed downward with a smile, and said, "Lord Feng, please behold—this is the 'grand gift' I have presented to you."

Feng Erbao stood beyond a hundred feet, peering through the forest gaps, seeing a figure seated at the base of the tree.

The silk robe on that person was already soaked through, water dripping down, staining the ground with a dark red hue.

Feng Erbao examined it for a moment, his brow tightening, "Song Jinjian, does your lord insult our family?"

He saw clearly—the person’s clothes were splattered with blood, as if freshly emerged from the palace’s purification chamber.

Could he not feel ashamed?

Song Jinjian calmly shook his head, his expression composed, "Lord Feng, you misunderstand."

"This person was entrusted to me by the emperor, to be delivered to you, with instructions to remain at your side."

"Oh? Who is he?"

"Liu Taoiyao."

Feng Erbao’s gentle face showed a hint of surprise, clearly unprepared for this individual.

He knew Liu Taoiyao was Liu Hong’s eldest son, yet he could not fathom why that Cao patriarch would act thus.

Song Jinjian noticed his confusion, and before he could ask, smiled and explained, "Lord Feng, you must know the imperial edict. The Liu family of Jingzhou, except for the empress, are all to be eliminated. Yet the emperor, remembering old ties, has entrusted me with ensuring Liu Taoiyao remains at your side."

Upon hearing this, Feng Erbao could not help but cover his mouth and laugh softly.

The delicate sound of his laughter echoed through the forest, rain pattering on dry leaves.

"Song Jinjian, you and your lord are truly clever."

"A dog, having bowed so often to you, should meet a good end. What of Liu Hong?"

"You’ve made the bloodline of Jingzhou extinct."

Song Jinjian nodded without answering. "Better to live than die. If he loses a leg, perhaps he’ll find a way."

He then turned his gaze to Feng Erbao, speaking calmly, "Just as Lord Feng, perhaps we could..."

Feng Erbao’s face darkened, staring at him for a moment, his voice soft, "As the Cao patriarch entrusted, we have accepted."

After speaking, he took a step forward, then halted, swaying his sleeve and saying, "If there’s no further matter, you may depart."

Song Jinjian smiled and vanished into the depths of the forest.

Only when his presence had completely faded did Feng Erbao approach Liu Taoiyao, his expression grim as he examined him.

"Cao Mei..."

The Cao family, having carried on for a thousand years, had produced countless talents.

There had been swordsmen and wandering knights who had single-handedly slain ten thousand cavalrymen from the northern army.

Scholars and masters of the academy, whose disciples had traveled the world.

More still had served in the court, rising to positions just below the highest, totaling three.

Even farther afield, in the final days of the previous dynasty’s golden age.

The old patriarch of the Cao family had reigned at the second-highest position for two decades, wielding his own strength to enact sweeping reforms, hardily establishing a century’s foundation for the dynasty.

By the time of the Great Wei era, the Cao family remained vibrant.

Yet due to past affairs, successive Wei emperors harbored resentment, though they never massacred the Cao family, nor allowed their descendants to ascend to the core positions.

Until two hundred years later, Cao Mei emerged.

At twelve, he passed the imperial examination as a xiucai. At fifteen, he was nominated. At eighteen, he triumphed in the palace examination, becoming the youngest graduate of the Great Wei dynasty.

His fame was unparalleled.

The court’s major figures had originally believed Cao Mei, so young to achieve success, would stray down some wrong path.

Yet he remained silent in the Hall of Literary Arts for three years, then three more, not emerging until he was twenty-eight, when he was appointed a fifth-grade deputy prefect of the Hongwu Temple.

At forty, he became the emperor’s tutor.

After the founding emperor lay on his deathbed, he elevated him to the rank of Heavenly Chancellor, placing him at the head of the nine ministers, to assist the reigning sovereign.

Twenty years have already passed since then.

Twenty years—whether long or short, whether enduring or fleeting.

Yet within the palace, aside from the Heavenly Chancellor, the other eight ministers have all changed positions, some even shifting their ranks entirely.

Take the Military Minister, for instance—before Chen Xuanji came Luo Yong, Ye Ji, and Duo Mu Yun.

Thus, Zhou Mei’s ability to remain firmly seated at the pinnacle of the Heavenly Chancellor’s seat for two decades stands as a rare and remarkable feat.

Or perhaps his mind and skill are far from ordinary.

Otherwise, the reigning sovereign would not have bestowed upon him the title of “the First Minister of Great Wei.”

Feng Erbao, considering these matters, gradually steadied his countenance. He raised his hand and flicked a dust-off sleeve to wrap around Liu Tao’ao, sending her back to the relay station.

Though he, as the sovereign’s closest confidant, ought to prioritize the sovereign’s will above all, he was keenly aware of the position Cao Mei held in the sovereign’s heart.

Even if Liu Hong, who once wielded the power to take life, had no motive at all, Cao Mei’s hand had already struck him down. The reigning sovereign would not punish or reprimand him for such an act.

Feng Erbao understood this fully, so he did not dare to chew his tongue in frustration.

On the contrary, by leveraging Cao Mei’s favor, he, the imperial secretary who penned the edicts, might yet ascend to the position of Grand Secretary.

In a short while.

The carriage heading north toward the Prefecture of Kyoto resumed its journey, galloping along the imperial road.

Song Jinji watched the several carriages disappear into the distance, his palms tracing the hilt of his concealed sword at his waist.

Eventually, he lifted his hands, cradling his arms as he gazed toward the horizon where the carriages vanished.

“If the Prince had not commanded it, a eunuch slaying a man would have been enough to avenge the spirit of Liu Bang in the afterlife.”

Song Jinji’s lips curled into a disdainful smile. He turned and beckoned to those on the other side:

“Come forth—you, too, should be on your way.”

From the shadows emerged Liu Zhaoxue, draped in a black cloak, followed by Zhao Shichang, equally cloaked in darkness.

Liu Zhaoxue gazed toward the northern road, her expression complex, yet she remained silent.

Zhao Shichang, however, without hesitation, passed her by and knelt on one knee, bowing his head.

“My lord, we await your command here in the Prefecture of Kyoto?”

Song Jinji replied calmly, “We are not going to the Prefecture of Kyoto. We are heading to Jinling.”

Zhao Shichang, though puzzled, readily assented, rising to step aside beneath a tree.

Song Jinji’s gaze then settled on Liu Zhaoxue. For a moment, admiration flickered in his eyes. Yet when she met his gaze, his expression turned cold and impassive.

“Have you made your choice? Stay here, or accompany Zhao Shichang to Jinling?”

Liu Zhaoxue paused, her silence heavy.

To stay would mean remaining by his side.

To go to Jinling…

“What purpose would my going to Jinling serve? The Liu family no longer resides there.”

Song Jinji regarded her without answering. “You have no intention of avenging the Liu clan of Jingzhou?”

“Avenging?”

A trace of sorrow crossed the beautiful face of Liu Zhaoxue. She shook her head.

“The sovereign has issued an edict to exterminate the three clans of the Liu family. I lack the capacity to seek vengeance against a nation’s ruler.”

“Or perhaps you wish to shift the blame onto Cao Mei?”

“You dare!”

Before Song Jinji could speak, Zhao Shichang’s cold voice cut through the air:

“Prince, your name—do not dare call him by such a title!”

Liu Zhaoxue’s eyes flickered toward Zhao Shichang, her tone dripping with scorn.

“Are you the Prince’s advisor, or Cao Mei’s servant?”

Zhao Shichang sneered, “From start to finish, I have followed the Prince!”

“A loyal dog.”

“You…”

Before Zhao Shichang could raise his hand, Song Jinji’s finger snapped. A blade of qi swept through the air like wind.

*Clack.*

The hand and forearm fell to the ground.

Zhao Shichang regained his senses, immediately kneeling beneath the tree.

“Your Grace, forgive me!”

Song Jinji did not look at him. “Leave.”

Zhao Shichang, unable to tend to his wound, darted away and collapsed beneath the tree, retrieving the severed hand and fleeing northward.

Along with him, dozens of others in black robes departed as well.

Moments later, Song Jinji looked down at Liu Zhaoxue, who stood silent and lost in thought. He nodded once.

“Since that is so, you shall remain by my side.”

Liu Zhaoxue lifted her gaze to him, her face regaining its cold composure.

“Do you not fear I might find an opportunity to kill you?”

“You… you agreed to protect Liu Tao’ao for the Prince, yet you still severed the root of his lineage, ensuring the Liu bloodline is extinguished.”

Song Jinji glanced at her, then turned his head toward the dark clouds above.

Thunder rumbled, shaking the heavens. Lightning struck, illuminating the two figures.

“Liu Hong committed the crime of treason. The Liu family of Jingzhou should never have been allowed to retain any bloodline. That Liu Tao’ao was permitted to survive the sovereign’s mercy is a grace extended.”

Liu Zhaoxue stared at him. “And me?”

“You, too, have use. For now, I allow your life to remain.”

Song Jinji withdrew his gaze, a faint smile touching his handsome features. “As for whether you might seek an opportunity to kill me… come when you wish. But know this—there will be only one such chance.”

Liu Zhaoxue’s eyes brightened, her gaze fixed on his smiling face. She gave a barely perceptible nod.

Song Jinji’s smile faded. He turned and hurried back to the capital with her.

“I shall remain in Shuzhou until the coming festival.”

“In the meantime, you work diligently. Improve your cultivation.”

“Yes, my lord…”

……

Two days later, all that had transpired in Shuzhou reached the Prefecture of Kyoto.

Precisely speaking, it reached the White Tiger Guard.

Clad in a crimson robe and wearing a white mask, Xuan Xing received the translated secret missive and hurried toward the quiet chamber near the left wing of the third floor.

He waited a moment, hearing no sound within, and then slid the letter through the crack in the door before departing with respectful steps.

Yet within the room—

In the pitch-dark, windowless quiet chamber, a breeze drifted in from somewhere, stirring the secret letter.

It twirled twice in the air, slipped through the doorway, and silently glided down two corridors to another quiet chamber.

The man in the white tiger mask raised his hand, grasped the letter, and loosened the seal with his fingers to read its contents.

[On the night of the plague outbreak, the fledgling disease was severe.]

[Marquis Liu was struck down by a single blow from Marquis Xiao, witnessed by Feng Erbao, who carried the corpse back to the capital’s prefecture.]

[Zhu Hao attempted to flee and was beheaded by Marquis Xiao’s sword.]

[Liu Xing, son of Liu Hong, was found dead in the chamber; his death’s perpetrator remains unknown. Liu Tao and Liu Zhaoxue vanished without trace.]

[Simo Jinsu appeared in Shu Zhou, following the Lingfu.]

[The Buddhist abbot of Bosigulu sought a closed-door disciple; the son of Ran D Wang had already set out.]

[Tribes were sighted moving northward, seemingly tied to the son of the left marquis….]

The man in the white tiger mask read the letter, his gaze settling on the topmost line.

“The ‘Sick Bird’ illness? A jest.”

His voice lacked the earlier low timbre, carrying instead a brisk, confident laugh.

He rose, approached the window, withdrew a snow-white eagle hawk from his sleeve, and fastened the letter to its leg before releasing it.

The white eagle hawk fluttered into the sky instantly.

The masked man watched it circle twice overhead before it landed in some eastern district of the imperial city, his dark pupils flickering with irritation.

“Hmph. That whelp Chen Xuanji cowered for five years and couldn’t even hold his own, forcing me to rot here in idle waiting.”

“Sooner or later, I’ll settle this score with him….”

He muttered curses, then reclined on the imperial throne, legs propped up, idly sipping wine.

Between bites of peanuts, he crunched them loudly.

“Thank the heavens for the wine and food; otherwise I’d be at his mercy.”

Yet his voice was hushed, as if fearing eavesdropping.

Minutes later, only snoring remained in the chamber.

Meanwhile, at the spot where the white eagle hawk had landed—in the courtyard of a sprawling mansion with five gates—Chen Xuanji read the letter, dismissing the “Sick Bird” illness entirely, his eyes lingering on the final line.

“Simo Jinsu reached Shu Zhou….”

He crushed the letter to fragments, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the plum blossoms in the garden.

After a pause, he smiled broadly, his eyes drifting southward.

Not far—nor in the south of Dawa at all.

Just across the street, a residence bearing the plaque “Cui Mansion.”

“My old friend, you’ve made me angry by killing a dog.”

“Though Liu Hong perished not because of me, he died by my hand in my Jiangnan mansion.”

Chen Xuanji, ever stern, could no longer contain himself.

After countless moves, he’d glimpsed a fragment of their adversary’s icy heart—how could he not revel in it?

“I should’ve known: without the mountain behind Jizhou’s merchant guild, they’d dare act so recklessly.”

After a moment’s thought, he sent word to prepare a carriage to meet the Emperor.

Soon, the carriage rolled out of Cui Manor northward, halting outside the imperial city.

Chen Xuanji dismounted, passed through the massive city gates, bypassed the grand halls ahead, and reached the imperial study hall.

After the young eunuch reported at the entrance, he straightened his crane-patterned silk robe and entered.

The official left, leaving only the Emperor and Chen Xuanji alone.

Their eyes met, and both wore smiles.

Chen Xuanji bowed respectfully: “Your Majesty…”

Before he could finish, the Emperor waved him forward: “Xuanji, spare the formalities.”

“Though ruler and subject differ, we’ve been close friends for years.”

“Especially these five years, you’ve never strayed from my side, devising strategies for me—hardly worth such ceremony. I grant you audience without bows.”

Chen Xuanji glanced up, no longer resisting, and bowed his thanks.

The Emperor gestured for him to sit: “You came seeking an audience—what tidings arrived from the White Tiger Guard?”

“Your Majesty, in Shu Zhou…”

Chen Xuanji recounted the letter’s contents, omitting Simo Jinsu’s arrival.

The Emperor frowned, his expression tinged with displeasure.

“The Xiao clan, yet they treat me with such disregard? The two men I sought—both died by their hands?”

Chen Xuanji said nothing, letting him vent.

He knew the Emperor’s anger was fleeting; these were trivial matters, dead men.

After roughly a quarter-hour, the Emperor sipped tea, then smiled: “Liu Hong and Zhu Hao are dead. Has Shu Zhou’s situation been settled?”

“The Xiao clan remains.”

“Not only that—they’ve shed all restraints.”

“My lord, your strategy of replacing Liu with Simo has failed.”

Chen Xuanji remained calm: “The Xiao clan’s trials prove they can still defend Shu Zhou.”

“Indeed?”

“The matter… you already know?”

Meeting the Emperor’s gaze, Chen Xuanji whispered: “To the north.”

The Emperor’s smile faded, staring intently before speaking:

“Why not the south?”

Chen Xuanji: "I did indeed hope that Your Majesty might lead an expedition southward against the Man tribes, to proclaim the voice and might of our state."

"I spent five years in this endeavor, sowing discord between the rulers of Pohuishuo and the King of Lando, and stirring up internal strife among the Man tribes, employing every possible means to weaken them."

"The Man territories are vast, and their inner strength is like clouds; even if all forces were gathered, whether a single battle could bring victory remains uncertain."

Emperor An spoke without committing: "Now that the turmoil to the south has arisen, the forces of the Xiao family need not expend too much effort in garrisoning the southern frontier."

"Your words are fitting."

Chen Xuanji raised his hand toward the north and said, "In recent years, due to border trade, the north has grown increasingly strong in military and horses, yet has also fallen into a state of intoxication and luxury."

"In no more than two years, I wager they will be stripped of all resources."

"When that time comes, should Your Majesty not launch an expedition northward, they will inevitably send forces southward to seize the borderlands."

"Your Majesty should not wait passively; let us strike first."

Upon hearing this, Emperor An's eyes flickered with some eagerness, yet he shook his head and smiled.

"Xuanji, you are a cunning one—always ready to divert attention eastward while striking west. I nearly fell for it myself."

"From the outset, you had already decided I would lead an expedition northward, had you not?"

"As for sending your two sons southward, it was merely to stabilize the situation in Shu. Whether the Xiao family falls or stands is of little consequence."

Chen Xuanji lowered his head slightly. "I dare not conceal Your Majesty's words; I did indeed harbor such intentions."

Emperor An noticed his subordinate's gaze and chuckled, pointing at him: "You are a clever one, hiding your schemes so well."

"Your Majesty is magnanimous."

Yet both men understood—for such is the way of the world.

Regardless of Chen Xuanji's original intent, the Xiao family still clung to existence; such a fact could not be contested.

Emperor An's face brightened once more, gesturing with a wave: "Never mind, the north will do."

"In these years, those in the border markets have ventured deeply into the northern deserts and steppes, already familiar with the terrain, soil, and climate there."

"An expedition northward, my chances of success are greater!"

He smiled once more, then inquired: "But how do you intend to persuade the ministers within the capital? Especially my own teacher?"

Chen Xuanji bowed low: "The merchants of Jizhou and the great noble families to the south have suffered defeats and losses; that particular individual... will naturally agree."

"Jizhou merchants?"

Emperor An's eyes narrowed, his smile turning cold.

"Then proceed as you see fit. I await your good news!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your benevolent approval!"

Soon after, Chen Xuanji strode away with purpose.

Several edicts followed in quick succession:

Yang Zhe, acting as Governor of Shuzhou, had the Marquis of Dinyuan Xiao Yuan and the General of Dinyuan Army Xiao Jinghong have their salaries reduced for three years. Meanwhile, the Governor of Shuzhou Si Chenfan, for slaying Lü Jiu-Nan, was rewarded with commendation...

(Chapter Complete)