Farewell in the Officialdom

Qinghe County Office, Second Hall Study.

Rain pattered against the window all night, washing away the city's blood-soaked stench.

On the desk, a rosewood incense burner curled with faint smoke. The county magistrate sat in a grand master chair, idly toying with a warm jade thumb ring, his gaze sharp as a hawk's fixed on Chen Ping, who stood bowed below.

"Chen Ping, the Jin family—over thirty souls—wiped out in a single night, not even a chicken or dog left alive. Even that old scoundrel Jin Zhenshan had his heart meridians shattered."

The magistrate's voice betrayed no emotion, only a suffocating pressure.

"You're this county's tanhua from the Imperial Military Examination, and you've been tasked with escorting honored guests. What's your take on this?"

Chen Ping's body trembled, his face perfectly displaying fear and lingering dread.

He hunched his back slightly, hands tucked into his sleeves, voice quivering:

"Your Honor, I... I heard the commotion last night but was too scared to even step out. Neighbors say it was Black Wind Stronghold's bandits, come to settle a grudge in town. Master Jin had made plenty of enemies, so it must be..."

He broke into a violent cough, his face paling further, as if the tragedy had shattered his nerve.

The magistrate narrowed his eyes, studying Chen Ping for a long moment.

Last night's purge was clean and ruthless—no ordinary bandit's work.

But he'd checked Chen Ping's movements: the man had stayed in his own small courtyard, never leaving.

More importantly, in the magistrate's eyes, Chen Ping was just a lucky martial artist—no way he could silently annihilate Iron Palm Martial Hall, which housed several experts.

"Black Wind Stronghold..."

The magistrate tapped the desk with his fingers, a meaningful smile curling his lips.

"If it's roaming bandits, then case closed. The Jin family has no heirs; their assets are confiscated for public use. Taking from the people, giving back to them."

Chen Ping quickly clasped his hands:

"Your Honor is wise."

"Chen Ping,"

The magistrate's tone shifted, growing genial, "Now that Jin Zhenshan is dead, the county's constable position is vacant. I intend to promote you to chief constable, overseeing all public security. Also, my daughter is sixteen—a concubine's child, but well-read and sensible. If you're willing, I can betroth her to you as a secondary wife. From then on, we'll be family, and in Qinghe County, I'll ensure your wealth and glory."

It was a blatant bid to rope him in and bind him.

Chen Ping sneered inwardly, but his face showed a mix of flattered shock and deep terror.

"Your Honor's favor... I dare not accept it!"

His words were earnest, even squeezing out a few tears.

"It's just that I trained too hard in my youth and damaged my foundation. On my last escort mission, I caught a yin qi invasion. Now I'm all show, no substance—every rainy day, my whole body aches. I'm truly useless, with maybe a few years left. The chief constable post is too important; if I took it, I'd only fail Your Honor's duties. As for your daughter... with this broken body, I wouldn't dare waste her youth."

He broke into another fit of coughing, channeling inner force to flush his face red, then pale.

The magistrate watched Chen Ping's sickly demeanor, his eagerness cooling fast into disdain and regret.

A crippled military graduate was indeed worthless for recruitment.

"Enough."

The magistrate waved a hand, took the resignation letter, and tossed it carelessly onto the desk corner.

"Since your ambitions lie elsewhere, I won't force it. Go, rest and recover."

"Thank you, Your Honor, for your grace!"

Chen Ping, as if pardoned, kowtowed and withdrew from the study.

The moment he stepped out of the county office, Chen Ping's straight back relaxed slightly, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips.

Several bailiffs at the gate saw him and crowded around. Learning he'd quit his post, they erupted.

"Master Chen, you've lost your mind! The chief constable's a fat plum—others would kill for it!"

"Exactly! Throwing away a bright future to farm? All that martial training must've addled your brain!"

Their jeers drilled into his ears without restraint.

Chen Ping just smiled, clasped his hands, and said nothing.

Sparrows know nothing of a swan's ambition. What they called a "bright future" was just a shackle to immortality in his eyes.

He packed his bags, hired a cart, and moved back to that quiet little courtyard south of the city without a backward glance.

From then on, Chen Ping vanished from Qinghe County's official circles.

Inside the courtyard, the furnace blazed.

Chen Ping dumped all the gold leaves, loose silver, and gold ingots exchanged from gambling winnings into the crucible.

Flames licked the vessel as the metals melted into molten liquid.

With focused precision, he poured the gold into custom molds, casting them into finger-sized small yellow fish.

This shape was easy to carry on his person and convenient for circulation in the cultivation world.

After all, gold was hard currency in the mortal realm, and among low-level cultivators, it served as auxiliary material for crafting certain magic artifacts.

Besides smelting gold, he had also used his connections at the pharmacy to purchase a large quantity of rare medicinal herb seeds at high prices.

Ginseng, lingzhi, fleeceflower root...

Though they were only mundane herbs, with the Everlasting Spring Technique and the remnants of that spirit stone, he might be able to cultivate a hint of spirituality.

One afternoon a few days later, the courtyard door was pounded thunderously.

"Brother Chen Ping! Are you really retiring?"

Tie Niu limped in, his face full of anxiety and confusion.

He had just returned from collecting grain in the countryside and had rushed straight here upon hearing the news.

Looking at this honest and straightforward man, Chen Ping felt a warmth in his heart.

In this world of deceit and treachery, Tie Niu was one of the few who truly cared for him.

"Tie Niu, sit."

Chen Ping poured a cup of tea, his expression calm.

"The officialdom is a big dye vat. I have a mild temperament and can't stand those restraints. Now that the Jin Family has fallen, I've saved enough money and just want to live a peaceful life with Yun Niang."

"But..."

Tie Niu wanted to persuade him further.

Chen Ping waved his hand to stop him, went back into the room, and brought out a heavy bundle and a thin booklet, pushing them in front of Tie Niu.

"This is five hundred taels of silver. Use it to renovate your house and buy a few acres of good farmland. This booklet contains my improved Shattered Stone Palm and some qi circulation methods, removing the original drawbacks that harmed the body. You have good bones. Practice according to this, and though you won't become a peerless master, it will be more than enough to ensure no one in Qinghe County dares to bully your family."

Tie Niu looked at the silver and the manual before him, his eyes reddening.

He was a rough man who didn't understand grand principles, but he knew Chen Ping was paving a way for his future.

"Brother..."

Tie Niu choked up and dropped to his knees with a thud.

Chen Ping caught him and laughed.

"We're brothers. No need for these formalities. When I'm gone, remember to go to that Broken Temple on holidays and burn some incense for Lord Guan."

After seeing Tie Niu off, Chen Ping's life grew increasingly "decadent."

Every morning, he no longer rose at cockcrow to practice but accompanied Yun Niang to the market for groceries.

During the day, he took Yun Niang to the silk shop to pick fabrics and to the theater to listen to the droning Kunqu opera.

To outsiders, the former Imperial Military Examination Tanhua had indeed fallen into decline due to injury, wallowing in the comfort of a woman's arms, becoming a wealthy man who only revolved around his wife.

Only Yun Niang knew that her Husband's eyes were brighter than ever.

In the dead of night, when all was silent.

After Yun Niang fell asleep, Chen Ping quietly got up and went to the secret room in his study.

Under the dim lamplight, he spread out the Beast Hide Map he had obtained from Jin Zhenshan's secret chamber.

The map was incomplete, with ancient, crude lines, but combining it with fragments he had heard from Ye Muqing, he finally pinpointed the general location of a place called "Taihang Market."

"A thousand miles away, deep mountains and great marshes..."

Chen Ping's finger slowly traced the route on the map, his brow slightly furrowed.

This path required crossing several mortal kingdoms and traversing primeval forests teeming with ferocious beasts.

For a mortal, it was a journey of certain death.

Even as a Qi Refining Layer 1 cultivator, he couldn't claim full confidence.

Putting away the map, Chen Ping pulled out the Storage Pouch he had looted from the Evil Cultivator old Daoist.

This gray, unremarkable little pouch seemed insignificant but weighed heavily.

His Spiritual Sense was far too weak to directly erase the spiritual imprint on it like Ye Muqing could.

"I'll have to use the slow and steady method."

Chen Ping bit his fingertip, squeezed out a drop of Essence Blood infused with spiritual energy, and dripped it onto the pouch's opening.

"Sizzle—"

The Essence Blood touched the Storage Pouch, emitting a soft sound as it turned into a thread of blood-red light, slowly seeping into the invisible barrier.

Chen Ping sensed that the sturdy barrier had developed an extremely tiny crack under the erosion of the Essence Blood.

At this rate, it would take months and a great deal of Essence Blood to forcibly wear down the Storage Pouch.

"What's inside? Spirit stones? A Magic Artifact? Or a higher-level Cultivation Technique?"

Chen Ping's eyes were full of anticipation.

It was like opening a blind box—each drop of blood brought him one step closer to that mysterious Cultivation World.

Days passed in this mix of calm and anticipation.

Until one evening in late autumn.

Yun Niang was at the kitchen stove, simmering Chen Ping's favorite Crucian Carp Soup.

Suddenly, a sharp clang rang out—the sound of a porcelain bowl shattering on the floor, breaking the courtyard's quiet.

Chen Ping, splitting firewood in the yard, felt his heart tighten. He shot into the kitchen like a ghost.

There lay Yun Niang, slumped weakly by the stove, her face pale as paper, eyes tightly shut. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest proved she was still alive.

"Sister Yun!"

Chen Ping's face drained of color. He scooped her up, pouring the Everlasting Spring Magical Power within him into her body without restraint.

Half an hour later, the old physician from Huichun Hall withdrew his fingers from her pulse, let out a long sigh, and shook his head.

"Scholar Chen, forgive my bluntness. Your wife overworked herself in her early years, draining her foundation. On top of that... her heart meridians were already somewhat blocked from birth. Though she's been well-fed and cared for now, it's like a water tank with a hole in the bottom—no matter how much you pour in, it won't hold."

Chen Ping's face turned ashen. He stared hard at the old physician. "Speak plainly! How long does she have?"

Startled by the Sha Qi in Chen Ping's eyes, the old physician stammered:

"If... if we sustain her with Century-Old Ginseng and tend to her carefully, perhaps she might still have... twenty years."

After seeing the physician out, Chen Ping sat by the bedside, holding Yun Niang's cold hand as she slept, her brow still faintly furrowed.

"Twenty years..."

Chen Ping murmured, his nails digging deep into his palms. "Is this the fate of mortals?"

The time he had left was running out.

The peaceful days in Qinghe County were over.