SF 5

A dust-covered convoy entered through the North Gate of Jincheng and made its way straight to Jinxiu Pavilion. As soon as Yue Qing stepped down from the carriage, his robe sleeves swept out like a giant broom clearing fallen leaves, and he glided indoors without so much as touching the ground.

“Manager Yue! Manager Yue!”

Fang Ke called out several times behind him but failed to stop him. In a panic, he tapped the ground lightly with his feet and launched into a graceful arc through the air, flipping into a crescent before landing directly in front of Yue Qing to block his path.

“Whatever it is, save it for later. I need a bath first,” Yue Qing said, not even lifting his eyelids as he moved to sidestep Fang Ke.

Fang Ke felt their Manager Yue was excellent in every way, except for one thing. He was pathologically clean. He would wipe down a chair twice before sitting, and whenever he returned from a trip, the very first thing he did was dive into a bath, not waiting for a welcoming party but scrubbing off the dust himself.

“Manager Yue! Please, don’t bathe just yet. Something’s happened to Master Feng.”

Yue Qing finally halted. He turned back to look at Fang Ke with an expression that seemed to say what could possibly happen to that scoundrel?

“Half a month ago, Master Feng went after someone and hasn’t been seen since. We found his saber in an alley on the west side of the city. It’s likely something has happened. But before leaving, Master gave clear orders that no matter what occurs, we are not to act rashly. So we’ve been quietly sending people out to search. Just a few days ago, we found this on the border of Yizhou.”

As he spoke, Fang Ke handed Yue Qing an object. It was a strip of tree bark, carved with a series of jagged, crisscrossed lines.

This was the coded message Ling Xun had left that night, carved into the trunk of the tree outside the inn. Fang Jue had discovered it during his search and peeled off the bark to bring it back.

Yue Qing studied the mess of markings for a long while, eyes narrowing before he raised a brow. “Master Feng went to the capital?”

“Yes.”

Fang Ke could also decipher Feng Wuge’s coded signs. The message merely indicated he was heading to the capital, assuring them not to worry. As for how he got there or what had happened along the way, no one could say.

“We also heard from some villagers on the outskirts of the city. They said that on the night in question, they heard shouting. When they followed the sound, they saw two figures in the distance. One of them looked very much like Master Feng. He appeared to be under duress, possibly held captive.”

“Have you sent word to our people stationed in the capital?” Yue Qing asked.

“Not yet.”

“Then notify them immediately. Have them look into Master Feng’s whereabouts, quietly. Do not make a fuss.”

Leaving these instructions behind, Yue Qing resumed his mission to get clean.

But Fang Ke remained uneasy. “Manager Yue, Master will be all right, won’t he?”

“Don’t worry. He won’t die. Master Feng always acts with deliberation. If his life were truly in danger, he would never have left behind a coded message like this.”

Like a needle that calms the seas, Yue Qing’s return steadied the panicked monkeys in the den. Still, Fang Ke failed to notice the flicker of deep concern that flashed through Yue Qing’s eyes as he turned away.

Yue Qing had just returned from escorting cargo from the northwest. Right before he left with the convoy, trouble had erupted there.

It had started when heavy rains battered the region around Jincheng, causing a landslide. A village at the base of the mountain was on the brink of destruction. At that moment, a formation master stepped forward, using his craft to halt the falling earth and save the lives of over a hundred villagers. But once the storm passed, the local magistrate turned on him, attempting to arrest the very man who had saved them. The villagers rose in fierce opposition.

No one could say for sure whether someone had been pulling strings from the shadows, but the situation rapidly spiraled out of control. More and more formation masters began surfacing in Jincheng. In the end, the county magistrate was killed. The local governor, fearing for his life, had no choice but to raise the banner of “Purge the emperor’s inner circle, execute the treacherous eunuchs,” and openly rebelled.

Word of the incident had already reached the imperial court. On the surface, it looked like no more than a minor peasant uprising. But Yue Qing knew full well that the truth was far from simple. Liangzhou had always been a land of fierce temperaments. Judging by the sheer volume of goods Jinxiu Pavilion had been sending through that region over the years, trouble had been brewing there for some time. It was only a matter of when it would erupt.

And now, of all times, something had happened to Feng Wuge.

Could it really be just a coincidence?

A faint unease stirred in Yue Qing’s heart. That very night, he composed a letter and entrusted it to Fang Jue to deliver to the Inspector’s Office in Jingzhou, instructing him to place it directly into the hands of the Inspector’s son, Yuan Xi.

---

In the capital, Ling Xun was being led by a junior eunuch to appear before Qin Chao, the Chief Eunuch of the Inner Court.

The old eunuch, pale-faced and beardless, sat high above and looked down at him. He had a pair of smiling eyes and the serene expression of an enlightened Buddha who had amassed countless merits. He bore no resemblance at all to the infamous “Ninth Lord,” the one who feasted on flesh and drank blood, who made the entire court fall silent at the sound of his name.

“You stand before the Chief Eunuch and do not kneel?” snapped the junior eunuch at Qin Chao’s side, his voice sharp as he put on a full display of borrowed authority.

Ling Xun did not move. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he said, “This lowly commoner, Feng Wuge, pays his respects to the Chief Eunuch.”

“I asked you why you do not kneel!” The junior eunuch’s voice grew even shriller, as though his own dignity had been insulted.

“My lord, it is not that I refuse to kneel,” Ling Xun replied, “but rather that I was born with a strange ailment.”

“Oh? What sort of ailment?” The junior eunuch, now half-convinced by Ling Xun’s earnest tone, craned his scrawny neck forward like a bald-necked chicken, curious.

Ling Xun glanced at him, the smile on his lips deepening. One might have thought he was teasing a parrot. “My knees, you see, seize up like iron whenever I face someone who isn’t whole. They stiffen so completely I couldn’t bend them even if I wanted to.”

The air froze.

The senior official standing to Qin Chao’s side looked up in astonishment at the man standing before them in the hall. He could hardly believe it. The image imprinted in his mind was one of a fawning lackey or a vulgar thug, and it bore no resemblance to the man now standing in the hall. Only now did he realize that none of the faces from that night could truly be called Feng Wuge.

It was a blatant provocation, dragging the eunuchs’ missing parts into it, striking directly at the softest underbelly of their kind. The junior eunuch, clearly unused to this level of recklessness, sputtered incoherently with rage, waving his orchid fingers in the air but unable to form a sentence.

“How rare,” Qin Chao finally spoke, his voice slow and serene. He watched Ling Xun with a smiling gaze that felt like a snake, cold and slick, slithering up from Ling Xun’s legs. “To think such a strange illness could exist in this world. As it happens, I happen to have just the right medicine here. Perhaps the formation master would be willing to try it?”

The voice of a eunuch was already thin to begin with, and Qin Chao spoke so softly that the combination sent a chill crawling down the spine.

The senior official beside him felt his heart leap into his throat. He shot Ling Xun a pleading look, begging him not to throw his life away.

But Ling Xun’s expression remained composed.

“If the Chief Eunuch is willing to grant me medicine, and it cures my affliction, I would be forever grateful.”

Qin Chao’s aged eyes narrowed. He clapped his hands.

Four eunuchs entered the room, each holding a thick bamboo rod. They stepped forward and took positions around Ling Xun.

“The four of you, do your utmost to treat this man’s illness. Do you understand?”

With the Chief Eunuch giving the order himself, the four naturally leapt to action. They exchanged glances, rolled up their sleeves, and lifted their rods, each as thick as a grown man’s arm, then brought them down hard toward the backs of Ling Xun’s knees.

Crack.

The first blow landed squarely against his leg. Ling Xun’s brow twitched slightly. As the savage beating continued, one strike after another echoing through the hall, his expression faded until it was blank. If not for the streak of bright red soaking through the hem of his trousers and robe, it would have seemed as if the rods were striking air.

One strike after another.

The room filled with the dull thuds of bamboo slamming into flesh and bone. No one knew how many times they struck. Even the four eunuchs began to tire, their arms sore from the effort. Ling Xun, however, never made a sound. In the end, when his legs could no longer support him and he collapsed to the floor, he still lay on his back with his face to the ceiling. He never bent the knee to Qin Chao.

Qin Chao’s expression darkened, then paled. He flicked his sleeve and ordered them to drag Ling Xun straight to the prison and lock him up.

Perhaps it was age catching up to him, but in recent years the Chief Eunuch had been plagued with nightmares. Those he had killed came back one after another, borrowing the power of the dream realm to exact revenge. Ever since the new emperor ascended the throne, assassination attempts against him had only grown more frequent. Regular guards no longer brought him peace of mind. His sharp political instincts told him chaos was imminent. If he wanted to survive the coming storm, he would need to gather strength ahead of time.

So he began recruiting formation masters from the common folk, offering heavy rewards to bring them into his fold before the disaster struck.

Originally, he had been in high spirits, prepared to grant titles and riches. The previous few formation masters had submitted easily. In the face of gold and official rank, none had refused.

And then this brash, baby-faced youth had stirred up trouble.

What a disappointment.

“My lord, why let a man like that live?”

The junior eunuch, long accustomed to serving at Qin Chao’s side, had seen his fair share of righteous men. Many had died at the gates of Mingde Hall, bashing their skulls against the dragon pillars to avoid falling under eunuch rule. Yet never had he seen someone quite like this pretty-faced brat, brazen enough to defy the Ninth Lord to his face.

“He still has his uses. We cannot kill him yet. Pass down my orders. Watch him carefully. Do not let him die.”

Qin Chao soon calmed his anger. Once again he became the picture of a benevolent Maitreya Buddha, his face all kindness and warmth. He slowly pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and gently wiped his hands. The handkerchief was crafted using techniques from Jinxiu Pavilion.

He had long heard of Jinxiu Pavilion’s reputation. The palace bought their fabric every year. Qin Chao had always found their materials comfortable to wear, but until now, he had never noticed there was more to them than met the eye.

In all his many years, this was the first time he had encountered someone capable of weaving formation techniques directly into embroidery. Most people would not grasp the full meaning behind this, not unless the world truly plunged into chaos. Only then would the truth strike them like a revelation.

If he could, Qin Chao would have liked to kill this third-rate formation master on the spot. There was something in the man’s eyes that made him deeply uneasy. But he could not. Not yet, at least. Not until the man revealed the secret of how formation techniques were fused into fabric and embroidery.

So then, how to make him cooperate?

Judging by how things had gone today, the owner of Jinxiu Pavilion seemed to be another hard-boned rebel who took pleasure in opposing eunuchs. Ordinary torture would likely be useless.

Qin Chao suddenly pictured the face of that shopkeeper, whose beauty surpassed even that of a woman. An eerie smile crept across his lips as he gave his order.

“After tonight, move him to the lowest-class communal cell.”

There seemed to be an uncanny synchronicity among eunuchs. The junior eunuch immediately understood and dashed off excitedly to make the arrangements.

Ling Xun was thrown into the prison. The pain in his legs was unbearable, as if they had been hacked apart. The flesh and bone were so badly mangled that even the slightest movement sent agony tearing through him. Gasping for breath, he crawled toward the wall and slumped against it, then looked around at the damp, dark cell and suddenly began to laugh.

He had drifted through the backwaters of society for years, thinking he had long worn away all dignity and pride, reduced to a walking corpse who told people what they wanted to hear and said anything to survive. He never expected that beneath the mangled flesh and splintered bone, some quiet and unyielding steel remained.

He had not intended to be a martyr today. It was just a matter of kneeling. He had knelt before stray dogs before, so what harm was there in kneeling to a eunuch?

But when he saw Qin Chao’s face and remembered that the blood of the entire Ling family was on this man’s hands, his legs simply would not obey.

Somehow, he had ended up looking like a man of principle, someone who stood tall. Ling Xun was not used to that idea. He stared blankly at the iron bars, his gaze drifting, as if he were seeing someone from long ago.

“Why are you crying? Who made you sad?”

That gentle voice had once been a balm during countless nightmares. Every time he hit rock bottom, every time he stood at the end of the road, he would unconsciously dig that grey-shirted boy out from the depths of his heart, just for a bit of warmth. But the memory had long grown faint. That person, held so tightly in his heart, remained only a blurred silhouette. He could no longer recall the features.

It had been more than ten years. What had become of that graceful, soft-spoken youth?

He must be far cleaner than he was now.