SF 2

Ling Xun smiled as he looked at the man in short garb. Contrary to everyone’s expectations, he did not raise a hand to beat him. Instead, he stood up, flipped his hand, and drew out a plump white bird from his sleeve. It was the very same myna that had spoken so crudely earlier at Changchun Courtyard.

“Go find me a pot,” Ling Xun said to the teenage boy standing nearby.

“Yes, Master.” Fang Ke glanced at the white myna, finding it a rare sight. But rare or not, a bird was a bird, and any bird could be eaten. Swallowing his saliva, he ran off to find a pot. No one could quite see how fast he moved, but in the blink of an eye, he was gone like a gust of wind.

The man pinned to the ground kept his eyes on Fang Ke as he left, his gaze fixed on the boy’s black cloth shoes. The shoes seemed ordinary at first glance, black satin with nothing special to note. But upon closer inspection, faint dark patterns could be seen in the fabric. The man’s brow twitched slightly, and a faint gleam of delight flickered in his eyes.

“Master Feng, how should we deal with him?” another teenager asked. He looked exactly like the boy who had just left. But where Fang Ke’s expression was naturally cheerful, as if he always had something to smile about, this one wore a long face, as if everyone owed him several thousand coins.

“Why not just cut out his tongue?” someone suggested.

“Cut his tongue? Better to skin him alive. Damn it, did none of you hear how he was slandering Master Feng earlier at Changchun Courtyard?”

“Master Feng, you should get some rest. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands with this scum. We’ll take care of it. Once the blood starts flowing, it’d be a shame to stain your clothes.”

In the rear courtyard of what passed for a fabric shop, a group of men were noisily debating whether to chop off limbs or peel flesh, sounding more like a pack of bandits than merchants.

The man seemed frightened. He begged for mercy, imploring Master Feng to be magnanimous and forgive a petty man’s offense.

But Ling Xun abruptly dropped his smile. A sudden chill glinted in his eyes, startling the man.

“I don’t care what else you want to cut, but his tongue stays. Otherwise, how will I get him to tell me who sent him?”

The moment he said that, everyone was shocked. None of them had expected that this foul-mouthed scoundrel might actually be working for someone.

The man himself looked even more startled. His demeanor changed in an instant. Gone was the lazy streetwise air. The men pinning him down suddenly felt as though they were gripping a hot iron. With a yelp, they let go and leapt back.

At that very moment, a strange wind howled through the courtyard, whipping up dust and sand that blinded everyone.

“No good! He’s making a run for it!” Fang Jue was the first to react. He shouted and dashed out with his sword.

The wind died down as quickly as it had come. When the others opened their eyes, all that remained where the man had been tied was a scattered pile of rope. There was no sign of him anywhere.

“What a gust of wind! That was bizarre!” Fang Ke came in holding a stone pot. He froze at the sight of the empty courtyard. “Hey? Where’d that guy go?”

Fang Jue returned, his shadow darting like a wisp of black smoke. Landing beside Ling Xun, he shook his head. “He got away.”

Ling Xun’s face darkened. He tossed the myna into Fang Ke’s pot, sprinkled some bird feed inside, and told him to take care of it. Then he turned to Fang Jue. “It seems someone’s keeping an eye on us. I’m going after him. I need to find out where he came from. If anything happens while I’m gone, you know what to say.”

“I know,” Fang Jue replied with a nod. “We’ll say we used the cloth shipment as cover to smuggle salt.”

“Good. If something goes wrong, don’t act recklessly. Wait until Manager Yue returns from the north with the goods before doing anything.”

With just those few instructions, Ling Xun had someone bring him his saber and left.

Whenever Feng Wuge went after someone alone, he never let anyone follow, and he never came back injured or failed his task. The people who worked under him were long used to this, so no one suggested going along. They only noticed as he left that he had taken the length of rope used to bind the man. What he planned to do with it, no one knew.

Night had fully fallen. Some homes had yet to light their lamps, and the streets were dim. Not even a passing carriage could be seen clearly in the dark unless you heard the hooves or wheels first.

Ling Xun made no attempt to chase the man directly. Instead, he slipped into a secluded alley.

After carefully checking his surroundings and confirming that no one was nearby, he pulled a folded piece of white silk from his robes.

When he unfolded it, intricate intersecting lines were revealed. At a glance, it looked like a topographical map of a city.

“The nine palaces and eight trigrams arranged in hand, heaven and earth aligned within. Earthly ears, heavenly eyes reveal hidden secrets. I command the balance of yin and yang. Rise!”

Ling Xun chanted in a low voice. A soft light flowed from his palm, and the geomantic chart began to float into the air. He brought his fingers together into a seal and pointed toward the rope that had bound the man. At once, a flash of golden light flickered across the rope. The chart drifted toward it and began to rotate slowly above the rope.

Ling Xun closed his eyes. In his clear mind, a top-down map of Jincheng appeared, and within it was a tiny golden light, matching the glow on the rope.

There was no mistake. This was the man he was looking for.

Just as he was about to rise and give chase, his face turned pale as paper. His blood froze.

Because from the position of that golden light, the man he was looking for was… standing directly behind him.

Instinct moved before thought. Ling Xun drew his blade and slashed behind him. A metallic clang rang out, the jolt numbing his hand to the wrist. But when he turned around, there was nothing there.

Impossible.

He had clearly hit something. His hand still ached from the impact. How could nothing be there?

Had he seen a ghost?

“What a pity,” a man’s voice echoed through the empty alley, “such a fine formation master, using that talent for petty tracking spells. What a waste.”

Ling Xun recognized the voice immediately. It belonged to the man from earlier. He narrowed his eyes and noticed a faint mist hanging in the air ahead, veiling the deeper part of the alley in something unreal. He tested it with the tip of his blade, and just as he suspected, it pressed against an invisible wall. He withdrew the blade and resumed his usual calm expression.

“Calling me a formation master? That kind of slander could get someone killed.”

“No need to feign ignorance, Master Feng. The incantation you just recited is the most basic formula in any formation manual. I’ve been here the whole time. I saw everything clearly.”

“And who else saw it? Who can prove it? In fact, since you claim I’m a formation master, how about you follow me to the yamen and file an official report?”

The man had meant to make a forceful entrance, but seeing that the owner of the embroidery house was not only refusing to admit it but was ready to twist the accusation back on him, he realized he was dealing with a slippery sort. He had no choice but to dispel the illusion array and reveal himself. With a polite clasp of his hands, he said, “Master Feng, please don’t misunderstand. I mean no harm.”

Calling someone a formation master these days was no different from accusing them of treason. To show up like this, lay a trap, and then claim innocence? Who would believe it?

Ling Xun cast a sidelong glance at the now-visible man and said nothing.

The man noticed Ling Xun’s wariness and smiled more sincerely. “Master Feng, I haven’t come to make trouble. In fact, I’ve come to offer my congratulations.”

Ling Xun still gave no reply. He found a stone step and sat down casually, waiting to hear what came next.

The man had traveled far and questioned many people, but he had never encountered anyone with such a haughty bearing. Forced to keep smiling, he went on.

“To tell you the truth, the capital is in turmoil. The young emperor is surrounded by hungry wolves, and the lords across the realm are stirring. The court is barely holding together. Chief of the Inner Court Qin Chao, deeply concerned for His Majesty’s safety, has begun secretly recruiting formation masters from among the common folk, hoping to defend the royal house and keep the beasts at bay. That is why I had no choice but to expose your identity, Master Feng. I did so out of duty to the nation, not with ill intent.”