Li Shan set down his chopsticks and wiped the oil smudge off his mouth with the back of his hand. With a puzzled look, he asked, "Yan-Ge, you're not short of money these days—so why are you even giving this over to Chang Bo?"
Quietly, Li Yu added, "Yeah, Yan-Ge, you're looking so imposing now. When you've got status and wealth, why do you have to be so thrifty?"
At a nearby table, Chen An and Li Yin—having noticed Li Yan's sudden motion—exchanged confused glances. They knew all too well how extravagant their master could be, so it struck them as odd that today he would even take back a used belt.
With a carefree smile, Li Yan replied, "What do you know? This belt was bestowed upon me by our venerable master. I'm taking it back so my folks can have a taste of it too."
At these words, Li Yu's eyes lit up in recognition. "I get it now! It's like that Imperial Sword everyone talks about in the stories. With something like this, if trouble were ever to strike the village, we could use it as a sort of safeguard, couldn't we?"
Li Shan nodded in agreement, and both Chen An and Li Yin quickly understood the subtext. In official circles it wasn't uncommon for an official's ancestral home to display gifts from the emperor or high-ranking dignitaries—be it ornate jackets, elegant hairpins, delicate fans, or even ceremonial swords. Since Master Ji was one of the region's key figures, items he bestowed carried more weight than mere paperwork.
In truth, Li Yan's decision was spontaneous. He had carried that belt for several months—even though he later bought several replacements, this one had been with him the longest. Deciding to give it to his parents as a keepsake was a somewhat impulsive move. When Chen An and Li Yin had looked puzzled for a moment, he almost felt regret. Fortunately, his thoughts shifted quickly, and Li Yu's timely interjection saved him from having to explain further.
Chuckling, he patted Li Yu's shoulder and then glanced out at the sunlight. In his heart, he sighed and thought, "It's finally time… Perhaps today is the day I lose my life. But no matter what, I'll give it my all."
Far above Qingshan Pass—tens of thousands of li away over Da Qing Mountain—a shaft of light was streaking from west to east. Within this beam, an object shaped like a dart carried three young men in discussion.
"Senior Brother Wu, has our Enforcement Squad's senior confirmed that the person of the 'Xunxian Sect' is indeed present within the imperial territory?" The question came from a slightly plump youth with a round face and big eyes. The one addressed—Senior Brother Wu—was lean, with a face that looked almost equine, dark-skinned and sullen. Standing beside him was another youth in his early twenties, pale and beardless, with a gentle expression. All three wore long, dark-green robes.
Oddly enough, from the sleeve of the man called "Wu Shixi," a few centipedes would occasionally emerge and slither across his arm before disappearing back into his sleeve. The sight was enough to make one's skin crawl, yet the other two seemed utterly unfazed.
"Indeed," replied Wu Shixi gravely. "We have been ordered to come by our Enforcement Master. The instructions state that the person from the 'Xunxian Sect' is currently located in Qingshan Pass—in the city—and that he serves as the military strategist for the local garrison. Once we confirm his identity, we are to execute him. However, the Enforcement Master specified that the head of the Enforcement Hall wants him captured alive so that he can be fed to those soul-entangling silk worms."
"Soul-entangling silk worms?" the round-faced youth exclaimed, his voice tinged with horror. The very thought of such a punishment sent shivers down his spine, and his face paled visibly. The gentle youth fell silent for a moment before speaking up, "Senior Brother Wu, isn't that a bit excessive? Using such a method seems contrary to the natural order."
"Hmph, how could I be mistaken?" retorted Wu Shixi. "I've checked this over and over. When the order first came in, my reaction was no less extreme than yours now. I wonder what those lunatics over at the Enforcement Hall were thinking."
"Shh, let's not discuss the Enforcement Hall," the gentle youth interjected. "Among our peaks—even though Master Wei's peak is an exception—every other peak's Enforcement Hall is run by unyielding harsh men. But this isn't something us Condensing Qi-stage disciples should be debating. If they catch wind of our discussion, our fate won't be any better."
The other two nodded, their expressions darkening slightly as they abandoned the topic. Then Wu Shixi continued, "Originally, this wasn't even meant to be our assignment. But with the upcoming five-year competition in the sect, and with our Enforcement Hall seniors and masters from our peak currently out on assignment, they were forced to entrust this task to us. Fortunately, the cultivator from the 'Xunxian Sect' doesn't possess very high power—perhaps only at the second or third layer of the Condensing Qi stage, maybe even just at the first level. Compared to our own levels—with two of us at the ninth layer and one at the tenth—this is hardly a match-up. Still, they want him captured alive, so they require three of us to take him in."
The other two nodded in understanding. They admired the precision of the Enforcement Hall's orders; it was rarely in error. Given that the target's cultivation level was said to be at most third-layer Condensing Qi, it was clear that the task would be more of a formality than a true challenge.
"However," Wu Shixi added, "our Enforcement Master also mentioned that a certain master recently discovered that the 'Xunxian Sect' member may have taken on an apprentice. But this disciple isn't truly of the Xunxian bloodline—it's just an ordinary mortal with spiritual roots whom he found in the mortal world. That disciple, too, is to be captured."
"Oh? Another disciple?" the gentle youth asked.
"Indeed. When the time comes, we capture him as well," replied Wu Shixi, his gaze turning grim.
"That poor fellow…" the round-faced youth murmured sympathetically, "once captured, who knows what fate awaits him? If he's punished along with his master, he'll be an unwilling martyr."
As they finished speaking, the beam of light shot off to the east, their conversation gradually fading into the distance.
Inside the military camp at Qingshan Pass, Liu Chengyong paced his barracks, frequently glancing outside. Though it was his duty day, he had received a secret order from the Marshal to switch posts and wait in the camp for Li Yan—ready to act on his instructions. It was now well past noon, yet Li Yan still hadn't arrived.
At the Marshal's Mansion, Master Ji sat in the grand hall discussing matters with Marshal Hong. "Marshal, why aren't you holding council in the camp today?" asked Ji Wenhe, glancing casually at Hong Linying.
Hong Linying sipped his tea and replied solemnly, "Oh, today's matter concerns intelligence just returned from a secret agent at a Menggu outpost. I feel this issue isn't meant for public knowledge yet, so we're discussing it privately first before briefing the other officers."
Ji Wenhe straightened up. "Oh? And what did the agent report?"
"Earlier this morning, we received word that Menggu is planning to transfer a large force from several different locations…" his voice trailed off as the conversation shifted.
Glancing out the window at the now-sloping sun—about fifteen minutes past noon—Li Yan stood and smiled at Li Shan and Li Yu. "I must take my leave now. My training has become even more rigorous lately; it might be quite some time before our paths cross again."
Li Shan and Li Yu barely seemed surprised. Everyone in the village knew that Li Yan had become Master Ji's disciple and was dedicating himself to martial cultivation. They rose as well: "Yan-Ge, we understand. We'll let the uncles of the village know what's going on."
"Mm, then I'm off," Li Yan said. After tossing a silver ingot onto the table, he turned and strode out. Chen An and Li Yin quickly followed.
Once outside the tavern, the three of them dismounted under a tree, remounted their horses, and raced toward the north gate. It wasn't long before they reached the gate, where the soldiers saluted them and cleared the way. By now, almost every guard at the north gate was well aware of Li Yan's reputation.
The journey was smooth. Li Yan worried that Master Ji might be delayed by urgent matters in the camp, potentially clashing with their carefully set schedule. That extra delay after noon had kept them in the city for an extra fifteen minutes—but all those concerns proved needless. Soon the trio was back at the Marshal's Mansion.
After dismounting, Li Yan discarded his reins and strolled into the valley. Chen An and Li Yin went on to tend to several horses. They were relieved today; aside from a hearty meal in the city, their master hadn't thrown a fit or gone off shopping for anything else—well, except for that one extra belt he'd purchased, which he was still wearing.
In the valley, Li Yan immediately summoned his focus. Not detecting any probing spiritual sense (which eased his worries), he proceeded unhesitatingly toward the first stone cottage. Finding its door ajar, he approached and bowed, "Teacher, your disciple requests an audience." When no answer came from inside, he stepped in. Once within, he scanned the room—only to find it empty. Letting out a long sigh, he turned quickly and walked briskly to his own room.
Inside his room, he hastily pulled out brush, ink, and paper. Closing his eyes to center his thoughts, he began writing. After a short spell, he set the brush down and examined the paper; then, with a sudden "rustle," he tore it up and started anew. This process repeated three or four times, his brow growing increasingly wet with sweat. When he finished the fourth attempt, he studied the paper carefully—now covered in a fine layer of perspiration. Finally, he exhaled deeply, set the paper aside on his desk to cool, and then gathered up the torn sheets, burned them, and meticulously collected the resulting black ash into a small cloth pouch he tucked close to his heart. He then rose and headed to the water pool, glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, stooped, and scattered the ash among the flower beds surrounding the pool—tossing over a bit of soil as he went.
After washing his face at the pool, he quickly returned to the stone cottage. By then the ink on his paper had nearly dried. He picked it up, surveyed the room and himself one last time to be sure there was nothing left behind, and then set off quickly once more—uncertain how long Hong Linying might be able to stave off Master Ji's arrival.
At the valley's mouth, he called out for Chen An. Chen An had been napping—still a bit tipsy from his earlier drink—and was just drifting into pleasant dreams when a familiar voice startled him awake. Instinctively, he jumped up, grabbed his clothes, dressed hurriedly, and dashed out the door. Only once he was outside did he realize it was Li Yan calling him. A sense of unease crept in. "Why is he calling on me again? Could the master be having another outburst?"
When Chen An reached the entrance, he found Li Yin already standing in front of Li Yan while examining a sheet of paper. Taking a few steps forward, Li Yin said, "Sir, what is it?"
Li Yan shot him a dismissive glance. "Just take a look—you'll understand."
Chen An glanced over at Li Yin, who handed him the paper without further comment. Chen An took it, puzzled. It contained only a few hastily scribbled words that read: "My disciple, upon reading this, make haste to the city military camp. Your master is waiting for you."
Recognizing Master Ji's handwriting—even if written in haste—Chen An looked up at Li Yan and said, "Sir, this is Master Ji's message."
"Nonsense, of course I recognize it," Li Yan replied coolly. "It seems that after we left, the master had urgent business at the camp—perhaps even needing me to accompany him." He said no more.
Chen An and Li Yin exchanged a glance. "But if Master Ji has matters in the city, wouldn't they send someone to fetch us?" Chen An remarked.
"Then I don't know," Li Yan snapped, his tone growing sharp. "You really do worry too much."