Clues

"It's already been three days."

"Why is there still not the slightest clue?!"

"Tell me why."

The roar pierced through the main hall.

It was deafening.

The servants of the Prefectural Governor's Mansion were as silent as cicadas in winter, trembling with fear.

They did not want to hear the Prefect's furious roars, because that meant someone else was about to die.

Three days.

Many people had already died.

There was only one charge: incompetence.

There was not even any need to fabricate a charge, because the Prefect himself represented authority and commanded the army.

He also had over a hundred Black Armor Cavalry.

The machinery of violence could suppress every dissenting voice.

After his only son, Zhang Gui, died, Zhang Wanlong had gone mad.

Mad beyond all reason.

He did not care whether the common people lived or died, nor did he care about the court's censure. He only wanted to find that murderer.

He did not dare question the young immortal master. He could only search the entire city, hoping to find a clue.

The only clues were: a black banner, the ability to command ghosts, youth, and an immortal master.

Eight Directions City was itself a great city of the prefecture, with tens of thousands of residents. Searching like this was no different from fishing a needle out of the sea.

"Guards!" Zhang Wanlong's furious voice rang out.

Two black-armored soldiers rushed into the main hall and hauled up the scholar in the long robe who was lying prostrate on the floor.

"Drag him out."

"Prefect, spare my life, spare my life..." Though he wore a long robe, he had only passed the elementary scholar examination.

When Sun Adviser had been discovered, he had already breathed his last, which likewise filled Zhang Wanlong with rage.

His son was dead.

His right-hand man was dead.

His wife had died early, and now in middle age, he had lost his son.

Great Liang was on the brink of collapse, and there was no light to be seen in his future official career.

So he had no more scruples.

His heart was set only on revenge.

If worse came to worst, he would search every household one by one. He would surely find a clue.

The main hall fell utterly silent.

The two remaining men did not dare speak.

These two were also retainers of Prefect Zhang Wanlong, though they had not been valued before.

Now that Sun Adviser was dead, they had received attention instead.

One of them was racking his brains, scratching at his ears and cheeks.

The other, a middle-aged man in a green robe, looked at his nose, his nose at his heart. His mind seemed wholly immersed in the cup of tea before him.

Zhang Wanlong greatly disliked the green-robed middle-aged man's attitude.

Or rather, at a time like this, anyone who was not as irritable and frantic as he was, scratching at their ears and cheeks, would anger him.

If they could not feel what he felt, then they might as well die.

Thus, he said, "I wonder what brilliant insight advisor Song might have?"

Advisor Song cupped his hands. "My lord, after returning home, I pondered for a long while and realized that we still need you to provide clues."

"I wonder whether there are any families in the Prefecture City that bear a grudge against you, my lord."

"Please calm down and carefully recall the murderer's voice and appearance, clothing and adornments, as well as what he said."

"Especially his accent."

"It would be best if you could describe the events of that day without missing a single detail."

"Only then can we accurately find the murderer."

Having just killed someone, Zhang Wanlong's foul mood had eased considerably.

Moreover, he ought to be the one who most wanted to find the murderer.

Thus, advisor Song's words immediately became a fine prescription.

Zhang Wanlong could not help but begin recalling the scene from that day.

Advisor Song sat there with the composure of an old god, even taking a sip of tea for himself.

Though it had gone cold, it did not affect the taste, because his mind was not on the tea at all.

Why had he not brought this matter up three days ago? That was advisor Song's brilliance.

At that time, Prefect Zhang was in the deepest agony of losing his son. Even if a suggestion was right, it would inevitably draw blame.

He might even have followed Sun Adviser to the Yellow Springs.

Even if he did not die, if he brought it up later and made Prefect Zhang recall that day's events, would he not still end up disheveled and gain not a shred of benefit?

At that time, the suggestion could not have been used to its fullest effect.

So he had not mentioned it.

Bringing it up today was just right.

After three days, Prefect Zhang had calmed down considerably and was even more eager to find the murderer.

Though these suggestions appeared crude and shallow, they were extremely practical.

Zhang Wanlong recalled the scene from that day.

Sorrow welled up in his heart.

He suppressed the pain within him.

He carefully considered whether he had any enemies.

Why had that man killed Sun Adviser?

The murderer's voice and appearance.

Those were a pair of young eyes. He was around five feet six inches tall, dressed in night-traveling clothes, with his face covered.

He wielded a soul banner and had a Red-Haired Fiend.

A ghostly face was embroidered on the soul banner.

His accent was definitely that of someone from Eight Directions Prefecture.

What had he said?

Zhang Wanlong suddenly raised his head, a sharp gleam flashing through his eyes.

He remembered.

The murderer had indeed spoken before making his move.

Advisor Song narrowed his eyes, a smile curling his lips. It seemed the Prefect really had remembered something.

Now it seemed that he, Song Wenlüe, had still come out on top.

"Old Sun, you can go in peace."

"Your seat is mine now."

Advisor Song glanced at his colleague sitting stiffly beside him. A mocking look flashed across his face, but by the time he lowered his head, his expression had already returned to normal.

Zhang Wanlong rose and walked straight out of the Prefectural Governor's Mansion's main hall.

As he left the hall, the elderly steward of the household approached Zhang Wanlong and said in a low voice, "Master."

"Investigate the Lineages of those four people."

The steward naturally knew who the four people Zhang Wanlong spoke of were.

Just as he was about to carry out the order, Zhang Wanlong stopped him again. "Thoroughly investigate the people close to those four, as well as their Lineages."

"Better to kill wrongly than let one slip through!"

"Yes."

The steward did not try to dissuade Zhang Wanlong.

There was no use in persuading him. Zhang Wanlong no longer cared about anything.

He, too, had watched Young Master Zhang Gui grow up.

Zhang Wanlong's heart ached with grief, and his own heart did not fare much better.

After instructing the steward to handle the matter, Zhang Wanlong went to the young immortal master's residence.

It was a Taoist temple.

Five Directions Temple.

A place of tranquility.

Five Directions Temple was a Taoist temple established in the mortal world by the Five Spirit Sect.

It could be regarded as a post station or a secondary residence.

It was primarily used to receive Five Spirit Sect disciples newly assigned to guard the Prefecture City.

Of course, if other Five Spirit Sect disciples entered the mortal world, they could likewise stay at Five Directions Temple.

"How are the immortal master's injuries?"

"Reporting to the Prefect, the immortal master is already unharmed."

"Then I can rest easy."

Zhang Wanlong let out a long breath.

He was no match for that Black-Cloaked Man.

The soldiers were no match for him either.

Even if they formed a battle formation, they could not stop that vicious fiendish ghost.

Only an immortal master could deal with that man.

So anyone could have a problem, but nothing whatsoever could go wrong on the immortal master's side.

Zhang Wanlong boarded his ox cart and glanced at the Taoist temple, his expression complicated. At last, he lowered the curtain of the ox cart. "Return to the government office."

Three days passed in a flash.

During the day, Li Qingfeng meditated and cultivated at the Mountain God Temple. At night, he searched everywhere for yin souls and ghosts.

He had already visited the Chaos Burial Mound at the foot of the mountain two or three times, returning empty-handed each time.

He had consumed three black Yin Soul Pills.

The refined spiritual power had condensed into mist.

One Yin Soul Pill was equivalent to his previous month or so of hard cultivation. His progress could truly be called advancing by leaps and bounds.

Originally, advancing to the Qi Refining Second Layer would have taken at least another year, but now it seemed the time had been shortened considerably.

Li Qingfeng felt that continuing like this was not a solution.

After thinking it over, he still felt that the suggestion the Main Soul fiendish ghost had given him in the dream two days ago was better.

The Main Soul fiendish ghost had told him that those bandits were a scourge upon others anyway. Rather than leave them alive to harm people, he might as well wipe them out and turn them into part of his strength.

Li Qingfeng decided to consider it carefully. Human lives were involved, so he needed to treat the matter prudently.

His injuries had not yet healed, and he also needed time to recover.

Thinking of the notices about bandits posted in the Prefecture City, as well as those who had left the city never to return, Li Qingfeng still decided to eradicate the bandits.

Li Qingfeng smiled helplessly. "I always feel like I'm getting farther and farther from the righteous chivalrous hero I once imagined."

Tu Shan Jun did not see it that way. No matter why the bandits could not survive, once they killed people, they had to be prepared to be killed themselves.

Besides, eliminating bandits was also an act of chivalry and righteousness.

Children of this age who knew books and understood etiquette were simply prone to melancholy. Tu Shan Jun did not argue with him.

If he had encountered some unruly fellow instead, that person would have eagerly rushed off.

Still, as long as the final result was good, there was no need to question the process.

To Tu Shan Jun, gaining power was the best possible result.