Martial Artist Privilege

Chu Ning listened, his eyes darkening slightly, a cold glint faintly appearing in the depths of his pupils.

Chu Ning listened, his fingers slowly caressing the edge of the table. His knuckles pressed down slightly, and he felt the fine texture of the wood beneath his fingertips. His eyes darkened slightly, a cold glint faintly appearing in the depths of his pupils.

"Qingzhou Prefecture yamen?" he repeated slowly, his voice low, as if savoring the meaning behind those words.

The wind picked up outside, lifting a corner of the bamboo curtain. Sunlight cast dappled shadows, illuminating his slightly furrowed brow.

Qin Henian's gaze flickered, and he explained in a deep voice, "The highest military official in Qingzhou Prefecture is the Marquis Wu's Estate, but administrative power still rests with the Qingzhou Prefecture yamen. While the Marquis suppresses one side and no one dares to act rashly, he cannot openly shield a murderer."

Chu Ning narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone slow but sharp, "It could be suppressed... and why is that?"

Qin Henian paused, as if choosing his words carefully, and after a moment said, "It's not just the Marquis's authority, but more importantly, the strength you displayed, young master."

Chu Ning's gaze was like a blade, "Strength?"

Qin Henian nodded, "In the Great Gan Dynasty, martial artist privilege trumps the law."

Chu Ning's eyes grew cold, his tone calm yet sharp, "Then what about Feng Li? He's also a martial artist, and his rank is higher than mine. If what you say is true, then if I killed him... it wouldn't be illegal?"

"Yes," Qin Henian's expression was complex. "Among martial artist privileges, there's an unwritten, hidden rule: if a lower-ranked martial artist can kill a higher-ranked one, they receive greater protection. Because such people have greater potential to become true powerhouses."

Chu Ning's eyes deepened, and he let out a soft scoff, "So, they only care about martial artists and the powerful?"

A chill wafted through the courtyard, the tree shadows swaying slightly, casting a shadow on Chu Ning's brow.

"What about in the prefectural city then?" Chu Ning spoke slowly, his voice unhurried, yet it cut through the pretense like a sharp blade.

"Those poor people who died of hunger and abuse... they don't care?"

Qin Henian took out a yellowed document from his huái, his fingertip landing on the vermilion endorsement for "Yongchang Year Three." It was a record of three hundred famine victims freezing to death on the outskirts of the city, with the ink stamp "Martial Artist Dispute, Case Not Accepted" at the end.

"Do you know, young master, that last month a charcoal seller in the West Market was beaten to death in the street by a Wang Family martial artist?" His withered finger rubbed the ink stamp. "The prefectural yamen ruled he 'collided with a noble and brought about his own demise,' and even his corpse was fed to wild dogs."

Chu Ning's knuckles turned white, and the frost on the window frame spread with his killing intent, cracking the bluestone floor like a spiderweb.

Chu Ning let out a cold laugh, his voice slightly hoarse, with a hint of mockery, "So that's how it is... the laws of Qingzhou Prefecture only protect those with status and position."

His voice was soft, yet it pierced the heart like a blade.

Qin Henian's expression stiffened slightly, then a wry smile appeared, and he sighed softly, "What you say, young master... is indeed true. The law is not equal for everyone."

This statement undoubtedly confirmed everything.

Qin Henian bowed, his face filled with a respectful smile.

But in Chu Ning's heart, another thought surfaced.

Was the Marquis Wu's Estate truly just trying to win him over?

"Steward Qin," he said calmly, yet with an irresistible authority, "You treat me so well at the Marquis Wu's Estate, what is the real reason?"

Qin Henian's smile faded slightly, and he finally sighed softly, "Young master, the Marquis has seen that your future will not stop here. Qingzhou is already in turmoil. The Marquis is merely making arrangements in advance."

He paused, and said meaningfully, "Perhaps, young master, you should also consider your future path."

Chu Ning narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at Qin Henian with a half-smile, "Turmoil...?"

Qin Henian was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded, "Young master is meticulous; you must have already sensed it."

He didn't ask further, but the light in his eyes was deeper than the tree shadows.

Chu Ning's gaze deepened, he concealed the sharpness of his previous words, and slowly said, "The Marquis has treated me so well, I should go and express my gratitude."

Qin Henian paused slightly, then shook his head, "Young master may not know, but the Marquis has been stationed at the northern border for years, defending against beast tides, and has not returned to the Marquis Wu's Estate for ten years."

Chu Ning's eyes flickered, and he mused, "No wonder Marquis Wu did not appear when Xie Mingli returned to the estate. No wonder the Marquis Wu's Estate has declined in recent years, not just because Xie Jinghong disappeared, but because Marquis Wu is trapped in the north and cannot get away."

Chu Ning sighed softly, "If that is the case, then please have Steward Qin convey my thanks to the Marquis."

Qin Henian cupped his hands in agreement, "Rest assured, young master, I will convey it truthfully."

At this point, the room fell silent. The wind rustled outside, blowing the bamboo curtain and creating faint rustling sounds. Chu Ning lowered his gaze, seemingly in thought, while Qin Henian stood silently.

After a while, Qin Henian seemed to remember something and suddenly spoke, "Oh, right, young master. Miss instructed that if you came out of seclusion, you should see her immediately. Miss has something to discuss with you."

Chu Ning was slightly taken aback, then a faint smile appeared on his lips, "Miss Xie?"

Qin Henian nodded solemnly, "Indeed."

Chu Ning's eyes narrowed slightly, and after thinking for a moment, he said, "That's right, I should indeed thank Miss Xie."

His tone was even, but his expression was unreadable.

Seeing this, Qin Henian said no more, bowed slightly, and led Chu Ning to the inner courtyard.

Chu Ning stood before Xie Mingli's courtyard. A gentle breeze rustled the bamboo leaves.

Night fell, and the courtyard was dimly lit, casting her figure in a hazy, elegant silhouette.

"You've come."

Xie Mingli stood in the corridor, dressed in white. Her features were as beautiful as a painting, and a faint smile was hidden in her eyes.

"Miss Xie is looking for me, is there something?" Chu Ning cupped his hands.

Xie Mingli raised her eyebrows slightly, looking at him with a half-smile, "Miss Xie? That's not how you addressed me when you deliberately angered Feng Li that day."

Chu Ning paused, then chuckled, scratching his head. "He was too rude. I just wanted to teach him a lesson, I didn't expect him to be so petty."

Xie Mingli smiled faintly and said no more, turning to walk into the room.

Chu Ning followed and sat down. After he was seated, she personally poured him a cup of tea. Amidst the fragrant steam, her eyes flickered slightly. "Are you preparing to register for the Azure Cloud Arena?"

Chu Ning picked up the teacup and took a sip, his gaze deep and firm. "That's right. The Nine Heavens Thunder Canon, I must obtain it."

Xie Mingli sighed softly, her tone a little serious. "The competition at the Azure Cloud Arena is more complex than you imagine. Various forces have already made secret arrangements. The Wang Family, the Cold Mountain Sect, the Heavenly Thunder Sect, the Li Fire Palace... these sects and families will not allow someone without a sect or family to contend for the championship."

The corners of Chu Ning's mouth lifted slightly, a sharp glint in his eyes. "I know."

Xie Mingli pushed open the intricately carved wooden window, and a cold wind swept the registration list for the Azure Cloud Arena across the desk. As the pages fluttered, Chu Ning glimpsed names like "Wang Qianjue" and "Li Fire Palace Saint Son" circled in vermilion, the ink winding like blood.

"Ten years ago, there was a martial artist who won twelve consecutive matches," she said, tapping her fingertip on the last page. A damaged portrait was pasted there, with only half a charred sword tassel remaining. "The night before the finals, someone poisoned his food with 'Crimson Scorpion Powder.' The next day, on the arena, he was torn in half by his opponent."

The candlelight flickered, casting her profile in half Asura, half immortal.

Xie Mingli gazed at him, then after a moment of silence, she said softly, "You don't wish to join the Marquis Wu's Estate because you don't want to associate with 'the powerful and influential'?"