Third Young Master Tong

That night, in the Tong family's study.

The room was brightly lit.

On the desk, a six-foot sheet of Chengxin Hall raw Xuan paper was spread out.

A large brush, saturated with thick ink, danced like dragons and snakes, and eight imposing characters appeared on the paper.

"A fierce tiger descends the mountain, and all beasts tremble."

"Good calligraphy."

A young man was grinding ink nearby. His appearance was about seventy to eighty percent similar to Tong Baixiong's.

However, his brow carried a sense of calm, and he spoke slowly and deliberately, like a refined scholar, the complete opposite of Tong Baixiong's fiery temper.

"Father's brushwork is even stronger than before."

Tong Baixiong glanced at him. "Sanlang, you should practice calligraphy when you have time. Your body is weak, and you can't practice martial arts, but that's alright. You're still young. Study hard, and if you pass the imperial examinations and become an official in court, you can live a life of wealth and honor."

Tong Yukang chuckled softly but said nothing.

Tong Baixiong said lightly, "There's nothing a father and son can't discuss. If you have any thoughts, don't always keep them to yourself. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

Tong Yukang replied, "Reporting to Father, this son currently has no intention of taking the imperial examinations to enter officialdom."

Tong Baixiong frowned. "Why?"

Tong Yukang sighed softly. "The current court is in chaos, with factions entrenched in power, and generals in various regions obeying orders only in name. Although His Majesty has the will to reform, he lacks advisors like Shang Jun or Wang Jinggong to assist him."

"His Majesty relies on the Eunuch Directorate to implement a few new policies, but it's like a crooked monk chanting scriptures. When good policies reach the lower levels, they become something else entirely, doing nothing for the country's affairs, and only earning more infamy."

Tong Baixiong put down his brush, feeling a sense of relief. Of his three sons, only Sanlang had weak roots and no talent for martial arts. But for him to speak such insightful words showed that he had truly absorbed his studies. As for not wanting to take the imperial examinations for now, that was fine. He was only twenty-three, after all, and had a long way to go.

Tong Baixiong chuckled. "It's fine if you don't enter officialdom, just don't associate with those disreputable people in the future."

Tong Yukang suddenly said, "I have a good friend, originally a promising scholar from a respectable family, who joined the Northern Commandery Investigation Department this year. He said that although the Eunuch Directorate has some scoundrels, compared to the civil officials who claim to follow Confucius and Mencius and talk about the Three Dynasties, yet turn a blind eye to the current suffering of the people, they are still more diligent in serving the king."

Tong Baixiong understood, and suddenly slammed down his brush in anger. "Are you talking about the court, or are you implying something else?"

Tong Yukang cupped his hands. "This son would not dare. I did not intend to speak of it, but since Father said there is nothing a father and son cannot discuss, I have spoken my mind."

Tong Baixiong was furious. "Is Yang Lianting Shang Jun? Is he Wang Jinggong? Is he the reformer you speak of?"

Tong Yukang calmly replied, "Has Father ever considered why, despite Yang Lianting's notorious reputation, and the fact that you call him a villain, so many young heroes of the Cult are willing to follow and serve him?"

"Why? Why do you say?"

"Because Manager Yang promotes talent without regard to convention. He..."

Tong Baixiong interrupted him with a cold laugh before he could finish. "Is this what you think? Is this why you follow Yang Lianting? I thought you studied well, but you're naive, utterly naive!"

"Father..."

"Get out! Get out of here."

Tong Baixiong slumped back into his chair. His own son was actually working for the scoundrel he despised the most. What a great irony.

"Yang Lianting, you demon! You first bewitched Brother Dongfang, and now you've bewitched Sanlang. I am your sworn enemy!"

He grabbed the inkstone, his internal energy surging in his palm. The inkstone instantly turned to powder, scattering onto the white Xuan paper, ruining the good calligraphy.

A man in black robes entered from outside.

"Hall Master."

Tong Baixiong said coldly, "Send people to keep an eye on Sanlang. Report any actions he takes immediately."

The man in black robes looked surprised. "Third Young Master?"

Tong Baixiong gave a wry smile. "He's been completely captivated by Yang Lianting and has fallen too deep."

"Understood."

Tong Baixiong asked again, "By the way, what about the person in the Secret Prison?"

The man in black robes replied, "Everything is as usual. I've assigned over thirty skilled guards to watch him day and night. Another two hundred elite brothers are stationed nearby. Unless Yang Lianting sends all the Purple Cloud Guards from Chengde Hall."

Tong Baixiong nodded. "Good. Everything is ready. We just have to wait for tomorrow."

Tong Baixiong thought of today's events, feeling both anger and fear, and a sense of dread.

He had initially thought that Sanlang was merely a little too close to Yang Lianting and had even considered having Sanlang gather information. But tonight, he learned that Sanlang had actually believed Yang Lianting's twisted logic and heretical theories.

"I'm still not at ease. Iron Lion, you personally go and guard the Secret Prison."

"Then who will be by Hall Master's side?" The man in black robes was one of Tong Baixiong's trump cards, and rarely left unless it was a matter of extreme urgency.

Tong Baixiong chuckled. "Although I'm not as strong as I was in my prime, I still have the strength of the Pseudo-Xiantian Realm. Ordinary ruffians can't do anything to me. Besides, they wouldn't dare attack me in Pingding City."

His Dantian had been damaged during the bloody battle with the Seven Tigers of Ludong years ago, and his strength had gradually declined over the years.

The backyard.

Tong Yukang gazed at the stars in the sky.

"Be careful."

"Third Young Master."

"Old Cai, where should this pot of peonies be moved?"

"It's the master's sixtieth birthday, and Luoyang Baihua Zhai sent six pots of unopened 'National Beauty' peonies. They even sent a gardener who uses some kind of greenhouse and heating method to force the blooms. Isn't that strange? Five pots have bloomed, but this one is stubbornly refusing. The birthday banquet is almost here, and the madam feels it's bad luck. She told me to throw this pot out and get a good one."

"Give it to me, I'll take it to my room."

"But the madam..."

Tong Yukang laughed, "I mean, I'll take it to my Qingfeng Villa on the west side of the city. Even if it's bad luck, it doesn't matter."

"Then shall I have someone deliver it to you?"

"No need, I'm heading back now."

Tong Yukang walked down the street carrying the peony. The air was filled with the scent of cosmetics and the allure of courtesans.

The most abundant establishments in Pingding City were brothels and inns.

Most of the people coming and going in the city were martial artists, their swords never leaving their sides, their parents always on their lips. Fights and brawls were more common than sleeping or drinking.

There was virtually no government authority here.

The gates of the Imperial Guards' thousand-household office in Pingding City were shut tight 365 days a year.

The disciples of the Sun Moon Divine Cult's Enforcement Hall were responsible for maintaining order. Generally, as long as no lives were lost, the Enforcement Hall wouldn't intervene. Even if a life was taken, it would merely become a contest of power and interests between the two parties involved.

Justice simply did not exist.

Tong Yukang disliked this. In such an environment, someone like him, full of knowledge but lacking any physical strength, felt incredibly insecure. He preferred order, law, and discipline, and he liked seeing people compete under clear rules.

He walked up to a wall where a brick had been removed from the inside.

"Ping An Inn, Room Jia-3, kill Zhang Yu tonight!"

"Understood!"

Tong Yukang didn't linger. After saying just one sentence, he walked away. In the darkness, no one noticed as the brick was put back in place.