Volume One: The Turmoil of Yan and Yun Chapter Twenty-Three: Years Gone By (Part Four)
Bai Jian’s approval encompassed many things: the Sword Guard’s ruthlessness, and more importantly, the Sword Guard’s choice to leave scars upon him. Swords are weapons of straight thrusts; even when slashing, they rarely leave marks such as these.
Indeed, the Sword Guard killed the Fourth Prince with a sword, but wounded Bai Jian with a blade—such grave injuries, nearly fatal. Even if suspicion was cast upon him, it would not hinder the next phase of the plan, and could only serve to delay the moment his involvement was discovered.
Such were his thoughts before he lost consciousness.
The window had remained open all along.
A gentle breeze drifted in; the Sword Guard was nowhere to be seen.
Within less than half an hour, constables from the Yanbei Prefecture surrounded the place. Feng Muyun, Feng Qi, and Luo He stood inside, observing the crime scene in silence. Especially Feng Muyun, whose expression was terrifyingly grim, his gaze as fierce as a beast about to devour.
Bai Jian was sent at once to the Hanging Gourd Clinic, but it seemed the clinic could not bring him back from the brink of death.
“The wounds are of different types. It’s highly likely there was more than one assailant.”
“Bai Jian cannot die—he’s the only one who saw the murderer.”
“What about the Sword Guard? With his strength nearly approaching the Illusory Path, who in Yanyun could possibly bypass him and pierce the Fourth Prince’s chest with a sword?”
“The Sandstorm Formation showed no response; the assassin did not reveal strength beyond the Heart Enlightenment level during the attack. How is that possible?”
Luo He spoke four sentences, raising two questions.
Both questions revolved around the Sword Guard.
Feng Muyun said, “The Sandstorm Formation truly registered nothing. No other Radiance Realm expert could be in the city.”
Luo He replied, “That’s the greatest mystery.”
If the Fourth Prince was attacked, regardless of circumstance, the Sword Guard would have exerted himself to the utmost—this is the most basic duty of a Shadow Guard.
But the Sandstorm Formation yielded nothing; the Sword Guard accomplished nothing.
At least, in protecting the Fourth Prince, he was found wanting.
Luo He said, “This should not have happened.”
Feng Muyun’s expression was dark. “The selection process for Shadow Guards is exhaustive. Their loyalty is beyond question.”
Luo He replied, “I only speak to what the scene tells me.”
Feng Muyun fell silent.
Luo He asked, “Can the Sandstorm Formation locate him?”
Feng Muyun shook his head.
Luo He continued, “If he stands as an enemy, letting a peak Radiance expert roam outside Yanyun—does the Prince know what that means?”
Feng Muyun’s face grew even more severe. “And if he is not our enemy?”
Luo He answered gravely, “Then the situation is only more dire.”
To be able to take the Sword Guard without alerting the Sandstorm Formation and, in nearly the same moment, kill both the Fourth Prince and Bai Jian—how powerful must such a person be?
Feng Muyun and Luo He turned simultaneously to Feng Qi.
Feng Qi said, “This has nothing to do with Master.”
Feng Muyun replied, “I’m not saying it’s his doing, but he should know where the Sword Guard is.”
Feng Qi said, “Master is currently not in Yanyun.”
Feng Muyun grunted, frowning. “Then where has he gone?”
Feng Qi retorted, “How would I know his whereabouts?” Then he turned to Luo He. “Uncle Luo, is it that you haven’t realized it, or you dare not believe?”
Feng Muyun paused in surprise.
Luo He was silent for a moment. “What exactly do you mean, Young Lord?”
Feng Qi replied seriously, “The royal family has their own ways of dying; the Eighteen Riders have theirs.”
A beheading is not the royal family’s way to die.
To suffer grievous wounds and lie here dying without a word to anyone is not how one of the Eighteen Riders would act.
Feng Muyun finally understood Feng Qi’s meaning; his expression turned solemn. “You’re doubting Bai Jian’s loyalty?”
Feng Qi shrugged indifferently. “Loyalty is hidden within; even the Enlightened Monks can’t see a person’s heart completely. Otherwise, the Great Compassion Monk would not have met such a tragic end.”
Feng Muyun said, “It makes no sense.”
Luo He interjected, “When resolving a case, if all other possibilities are eliminated, then however improbable, what remains must be the truth.”
Feng Qi smiled and said nothing more.
Feng Muyun pressed, “What motive?”
Feng Qi said, “The Fourth Prince was famed as a virtuous king, but not one who could influence the great game—not even a crucial piece. I suspect the Crown Prince’s side is in turmoil now.”
Feng Muyun was momentarily at a loss, his frown deepening. “If what you say is true, what could Bai Jian’s aim be?”
Feng Qi replied, “I’m merely deducing as the military requires, not claiming I’m correct. Even if I am, how could I know his purpose?”
Feng Muyun asked, “No guesses at all?”
Feng Qi did not answer, only saying, “I’ll go keep Mother company.”
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Wuyang City, Zixiao Palace—the lights shone brilliantly.
“Rui is dead.” The Divine Emperor sat upon a soft couch, brows tightly furrowed, eyes filled with deep sorrow.
Wuyang was a thousand miles away; even Feng Muyun and the others had only just heard the news. How did the Divine Emperor already know?
The palace was empty, not even Lord Huan, who had served the emperor for centuries, was present.
“I want to know how he died,” the Divine Emperor said again.
“Send Zhe’er to patrol the Thirteen Northern Counties. Without my command, he is not to return to the capital,” the emperor continued.
After a moment’s pause, he added, “Never mind the Divine Guards, but thoroughly investigate all the Shadow Guards under the Crown Prince!”
After these words, he fell silent, reclining on the dragon throne, eyes closed as if napping.
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Wuyang City, Hanging Gourd Clinic.
Bai Jian lay in a side chamber, his brow deeply knitted, face ashen, cold sweat constantly beading on his skin. He murmured incoherently, his body trembling involuntarily with each delirious whisper.
“General Bai’s wounds are grave; his foundation is ruined. Aside from Master, I fear no one can save him,” said a young girl, about Feng Qi’s age, her features cool and pure, a trace of childishness still lingering.
“When will Master Chang return?” Housekeeper Fei inquired.
“Master went to the borderlands to gather herbs. I fear he will not return soon,” she replied.
“I’ve often heard Master Chang speak of you, always with praise, saying you are in no way his lesser.” Housekeeper Fei said, “General Bai has rendered great service to Yanbei over the years. Please, Master Zhong, do all you can.”
The girl’s surname was Zhong—her name, Zhong Wansheng, the current head of the Hanging Gourd Clinic, known in the Free Wanderer’s Hall as the greatest physician beneath the Immortal Path.
She could not cultivate.
Few at the Hanging Gourd Clinic could.
“Every patient receives my utmost effort, but this is no longer a matter of effort, only of ability.” Zhong Wansheng wiped sweat from her brow, paused, and added, “If the rumors are true, perhaps the Princess Consort could heal him.”
Housekeeper Fei gave a bitter smile. “If it’s only a rumor, how can we trust it?”
Zhong Wansheng shook her head. “Then there is nothing more I can do. This treatment may have bought General Bai an extra hour at most. Beyond that, I am powerless.”
Housekeeper Fei wished to speak further.
Zhong Wansheng interrupted him. “Grandpa Fei, I know how important General Bai is to Yanbei, but I cannot devote all my time and energy to him alone. There are many patients at the clinic, all suffering from various difficult maladies. Without me, some may die. As a healer, I would rather save those who can be saved than spend precious time on one with no hope of survival—it would not be fair to the others.”
Housekeeper Fei sighed, waved for the guards to carry Bai Jian back to the prince’s residence.
Before he could leave, Zhong Wansheng’s gentle voice called after him, “If it’s a baseless rumor, why does everyone know of it?”
Housekeeper Fei paused, then left without another word.
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