Day after day, the bluestone wall in Ye Qingxuan's courtyard had become covered in scars.
He stood motionless in the center of the yard, yet his right hand darted back and forth between the cloth pouch at his waist and the empty space before him like a Flower Butterfly flitting through blossoms.
"Whoosh! Whoosh!"
Two pebbles shot from his fingertips, one after the other, their whistle through the air barely audible.
The first struck a hanging roof tile at the corner of the wall, shattering it on the spot. The second passed through the shards of flying rubble at the instant the tile broke, embedding itself precisely in an old crack in the wall.
He had already mastered the release and restraint of both force and accuracy.
The scene in his mind flared with golden light once more.
[Locust Throwing, refining it to perfection, Merit +2.] [Locust Throwing Technique (Novice, Merit: 17/20)]
With only three more Merit, he would be able to enter the inner hall and reach the Minor Accomplishment realm.
Ye Qingxuan exhaled a long breath. He could feel the qi and blood throughout his body growing more turbulent with each day of arduous practice, like a river dammed behind an embankment, waiting only for a breach before surging forth.
He calculated inwardly that the third layer of Body Tempering, known as "Tendon Alteration," tempered the sinews throughout the body until they were as tough as ox sinew, allowing strength to flow without the slightest obstruction. In Fierce Tiger Hall, even an ordinary leader possessed no more than this level of cultivation. If he could break through, he would finally have the capital to establish a true foothold in Linyuan Prefecture.
But a tree that stood above the forest would be battered by the wind.
He gathered his thoughts and slowly pressed the force that was about to burst from his body back into his dantian. The Method of Concealing Radiance and Nourishing Obscurity that came with the Martial Path Heavenly Machine Codex dispersed every trace of his vigorous aura, turning him once more into that somewhat thin and frail-looking young constable.
It was time. He had to report for duty.
By the time he returned home after his shift, dusk had deepened.
Ye Qingxuan carried his Water-Fire Cudgel, his steps light. He was still dozens of paces from home, yet the familiar fragrance of rice cooked by his younger sister did not drift from the alley.
His steps slowed.
It was too quiet.
At this hour, children usually chased one another through the alley, while neighbors chatted and laughed. Today, however, the entire place lay deathly still, every household's doors and windows tightly shut.
He turned around the corner of the alley, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
The gate to his courtyard stood wide open.
A foul wind blew out through the gaping entrance, carrying several coarse male laughs and curses, along with a suppressed whimper like that of a small beast.
That whimper was like a red-hot iron poker, stabbing straight into Ye Qingxuan's heart.
He planted the Water-Fire Cudgel in the ground, then slipped to the doorway like a civet cat, noiselessly creeping up to the entrance and peering inside through the crack.
Three men stood in the courtyard.
The man leading them was none other than Hu Jiudao of Fierce Tiger Hall. The two lackeys beside him had faces covered in slabs of flesh, and they were kicking the small dining table in the courtyard until it lay askew.
Ye Caiwei had been forced into the corner, her tiny body curled into a ball. She clutched a cloth pouch tightly in her hands—the money pouch Ye Qingxuan had given her.
"Little brat, your brother's made a fortune, and this handful of loose silver is all he sends to fob off your Ninth Uncle?" Hu Jiudao planted one foot on the little stool and looked down at Ye Caiwei from above. "Your brother agreed to the rules for this month's payment himself. What, you want to welsh on the debt?"
"My brother... my brother needs to save his money to marry a wife..." Ye Caiwei's voice was choked with sobs, but she still summoned the courage to speak.
"Marry a wife?" Hu Jiudao acted as though he had heard the greatest joke in the world. He and his two lackeys burst into laughter. "With what? A temporary worker without even an official post thinks he can marry a wife? Maybe in his next life!"
His laughter abruptly stopped, and his expression turned sinister.
"Hand it over!"
He reached out to snatch the money pouch.
Ye Caiwei protected it with all her might, her little face flushing bright red.
"No!"
Hu Jiudao lost patience. After cursing her for refusing a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit, he kicked the battered dining table beside him.
"Crash!"
The table toppled over. A bowl of freshly served white rice and a dish of stir-fried greens spilled onto the ground, mixing with the dirt.
That was the dinner Ye Caiwei had saved for him.
Ye Caiwei cried out in shock, and tears finally began streaming down her face.
Hu Jiudao seized the opportunity to shove her aside.
Ye Caiwei's body slammed into the rough wall, instantly scraping a bloody line across her forearm. She let out a muffled groan of pain, her grip loosened, and Hu Jiudao snatched the money pouch away.
Hu Jiudao weighed the pouch in his hand, a greedy smile spreading across his face.
At that very moment, a dark shadow flashed in through the doorway.
The laughter in the courtyard abruptly ceased.
Hu Jiudao's vision blurred. The young man he had been wantonly mocking only a moment ago was already standing before him.
Ye Qingxuan did not look at him, nor did he look at the money pouch in his hand.
He crouched down and gently helped Ye Caiwei, who had fallen to the ground, back to her feet. His fingers brushed over the wound on his sister's arm, where beads of blood seeped through, then he glanced at the food scattered across the dirt.
He shielded Ye Caiwei behind him, then slowly rose to his feet.
It was as if all the air had been sucked from the courtyard.
Under Ye Qingxuan's gaze, Hu Jiudao involuntarily took half a step backward. There was no anger in those eyes, no flame—only a bottomless, deathly cold pool.
"Ye... Ye Qingxuan?" Hu Jiudao forced himself to stay calm and shook the money pouch in his hand. "Your sister doesn't understand the rules. I was just teaching her for you."
Ye Qingxuan did not answer.
He raised a hand and pointed at Hu Jiudao.
"Under the Great Yan Law, Volume Seventeen, Household Law Chapter, Clause Three: 'Anyone who enters a private residence without cause and forcibly demands property shall, upon encountering resistance, be treated as a robber.'"
His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, like iron beads rolling across a stone slab.
The flesh on Hu Jiudao's face twitched.
Ye Qingxuan took another step forward. The invisible pressure made the two lackeys beside Hu Jiudao instinctively grip the hilts of the blades at their waists.
"Volume Twenty-One, Criminal Law Chapter, Clause Four: 'Anyone who robs and injures another shall receive forty strokes and ten years of penal servitude. If the conduct is heinous and public fury reaches the heavens, the Fengtian Division may execute the offender on the spot without reporting.'"
He reached into his robes, took out the wooden tablet representing his status as a temporary constable of the Fengtian Division, and held it before Hu Jiudao's eyes.
The tablet was crude, and the three characters "Ye Qingxuan" carved upon it were crooked and uneven.
"I, Ye Qingxuan, am a constable of the Fengtian Division."
Hu Jiudao understood nothing about the Great Yan Law, but the four words "execute on the spot" struck his heart like four heavy hammers. Having prowled the streets for years, what he feared most were these hotheaded youths who acted outside the rules yet still had "reason" on their side.
What was more, Ye Qingxuan's expression at that moment was far too wrong.
It was not an expression a young man should have. It was something Hu Jiudao had seen only on old soldiers who had killed before, or condemned prisoners about to face the executioner.
A resolve that placed life and death beyond consideration.
Cold sweat broke out across Hu Jiudao's forehead.
If someone died in Southern District in broad daylight, even if Fierce Tiger Hall could smooth things over, Hu Jiudao would never escape unscathed. Hall Master Duan hated nothing more than fools who broke the rules.
"Fine, fine!" he said twice, throwing the money pouch onto the ground and shouting with outward ferocity masking inward fear, "You've got guts, boy! Using the laws of the imperial court to pressure me! Just you wait!"
He shot a glance at his two men.
"This alley is dark as pitch. You're bound to have times when you're alone on duty. And your sister—she's quite a pretty little thing..."
Before he could finish, Ye Qingxuan moved again.
This time, he was so fast that only a blurred afterimage remained.
"Smack!"
A crisp sound rang out.
Hu Jiudao felt a searing pain across his face. His entire body spun half a turn like a top under the force of the blow before he landed hard on his backside.
He clutched his face. His mouth was full of the taste of blood, and when he spat, two molars came out with it.
Ye Qingxuan withdrew his hand and stood there as though he had never moved.
"You..." Hu Jiudao was shocked and enraged. He pointed at Ye Qingxuan, unable to get the words out.
The two lackeys drew their blades, but they did not dare advance.
Ye Qingxuan looked down at Hu Jiudao on the ground.
"If you say one more word, you won't walk out of this alley today."
His voice remained calm, but the killing intent within it was like a tangible blade, slicing until one's skin ached.
In those eyes, Hu Jiudao saw a vision of his own head falling to the ground. He shuddered, then scrambled to his feet, half crawling and half climbing. Supporting himself against the wall, he did not dare say another word. He fled the courtyard in disgrace with his two lackeys, who were already scared witless.
Only after the figures of the three men had completely vanished at the end of the alley did Ye Qingxuan's taut body relax slightly.
He turned around and saw Ye Caiwei gazing at him with a pair of tear-filled eyes.
He walked over, crouched down, and gently wiped the tears from his sister's face with his sleeve. Then he carefully blew on the wound on her arm.
"Brother, are you angry?" Ye Caiwei asked in a small voice.
Ye Qingxuan shook his head and forced a smile onto his face, but that smile looked worse than crying.
"No. Nannan, don't be afraid. Your brother's here."
He picked up the money pouch from the ground and stuffed it back into his sister's hands, then righted the overturned table. Crouching down, he used his hands to gather up the grains of rice and vegetable leaves from the ground piece by piece, placing them into a chipped bowl.
After finishing all that, he stood and walked to the courtyard gate. He slowly closed the wide-open gate and slid the bolt into place.
With his back to the lamplight inside the house, he stood in the dark courtyard.
He raised his head and gazed at the waning moon on the horizon.
In his heart, there would be no next time.
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