A Sword's Gleam Chills Fourteen Provinces

Chapter 35: A Single Sword's Cold Light Across Fourteen Prefectures

Uncle Zhuzi had lost count of how many times he had visited Mengcheng, and he knew the city like the back of his hand. Knowing that the blacksmith shops often sold high-quality bows on consignment, he headed straight for one the moment he entered the city gates. As soon as he stepped inside, his eyes locked onto a longbow as tall as a man hanging on the wall.

"Boss, how many shi is that bow?" Uncle Zhuzi was instantly captivated. He usually crafted his own bows from fine, sturdy hardwoods, but this one was a composite of animal bone, hardwood, and horn. It was leagues better than his hunting bow; even a Three-Clawed Eagle circling high in the sky would surely be unable to dodge such a powerful weapon.

"Four shi." The boss was a burly old man who glanced at him, only answering once he saw the man was a sturdy hunter. It seemed many people were curious about the bow on a daily basis.

"Four shi..." Uncle Zhuzi did a quick mental calculation. He could barely pull a four-shi bow, but if he missed this chance, he might never find another one like it. He hurriedly asked, "Boss, how much for this bow?"

"How much? Ten strings of cash!" The boss gave a cold laugh. How could an ordinary hunter ever scrape together ten strings of cash for a bow? That was why it had been hanging there for half a year without a buyer.

"Ten strings of cash!" Uncle Zhuzi was shocked. Ten strings of cash meant ten taels of silver. As a hunter, he couldn't save that much in half a lifetime of backbreaking labor. At that moment, he was truly glad he hadn't killed the white fox for its pelt; even if he sold it at a high price, the pelt would fetch at most three taels.

Now, he could only do as Zi Bofeng had suggested: ask around to see if any young ladies wanted a rare pet. There were plenty of wealthy families in Mengcheng; surely someone could afford a ten-tael white fox...

Thinking of this, Uncle Zhuzi felt a sense of trepidation.

He was a simple hunter. He had never gone door-to-door to the mansions of the wealthy and the officials to peddle a fox cub, but for the sake of his mother, he had to harden his heart and do it.

He knocked on two doors. When the households heard he was selling a fox cub, they all wanted to see it. But when they heard the fox was still outside the city, they grew displeased, kicking Uncle Zhuzi in the backside and throwing him out. "You're talking nonsense with nothing to show for it!"

After hitting a wall with the officials and wealthy merchants and running back and forth all day, Uncle Zhuzi was exhausted. He was walking back with his head hung low when a sudden thunderclap shook the sky. He looked up to see the cliff atop the small hill outside the south gate of Mengcheng suddenly split in two, the upper half rumbling as it tumbled down the mountain.

"The Immortal is enraged!" A heart-rending cry rang out, and panic spread like a plague. Countless people poured out of their homes, shoving each other and fleeing in every direction as if the apocalypse had arrived.

The bold rushed out of the city to watch the spectacle, while the timid hurried inside to hide from the trouble. Uncle Zhuzi was drenched in sweat by the time he squeezed out of the chaotic crowd, only to find Zi Bofeng standing silently under a large tree, with Little Stone looking miserable.

Uncle Zhuzi was startled. Using his brute strength to shove past a few people, he rushed to the tree in two strides and asked frantically, "What happened? Is my mother alright?"

"Uncle Zhuzi..." Little Stone burst into tears at the sight of him. "The little fox... the little fox ran away..."

"You!" Uncle Zhuzi's eyes widened, his hand instinctively raising. That wasn't just a fox; that was his mother's life!

"Zhuzi!" Uncle Zhuzi's Mother, lying on the ground and looking deathly pale, called out softly. "Zhuzi, don't blame Little Stone. He's still a child... Mother isn't afraid of death. This is my fate..."

"Mother!" Uncle Zhuzi wailed and knelt before her. In truth, he wasn't angry at Little Stone; he was angry at himself. Even if Little Stone hadn't let the fox go, what could he have done?

Could he have sold the fox cub? Could he have earned ten taels of silver to buy that hard bow? Could he have hunted the Three-Clawed Eagle with it? And even if he had, could he have found a Three-Clawed Eagle egg?

"Mother, I am useless!" The large, burly man broke down in loud, bitter sobs.

A hero does not shed tears easily, only when he has reached the depths of his sorrow.

"Uncle Zhuzi, I'm sorry... you... you take this and sell it..." Little Stone held out the strange egg with teary eyes. "Uncle Zhuzi, stop crying, or you can hit me instead..."

"What use is hitting you? What use is any of this now? I..." Uncle Zhuzi wiped his tears as he cried, but when he looked up, he froze.

"This... where did this egg come from?"

The egg was slightly smaller than a goose egg, covered in intricate patterns that, upon closer inspection, looked like a three-stringed bag coiled around it.

"It's an egg from the big eagle on the mountain. It's delicious." Little Stone wiped the egg residue from his head and licked his lips.

"Hahahaha, my mother is saved!" Uncle Zhuzi suddenly burst into laughter. "The Immortal must have manifested! The Immortal has manifested! Little Stone, thank you, thank you!"

Uncle Zhuzi hugged Little Stone and kissed him, then smacked his lips. "Hey, it really is delicious!"

"Right? My head smells so good now." Little Stone said proudly, shaking his head toward Zi Bofeng. "Brother, you lick it too."

"You shameless brat!" Zi Bofeng slapped Little Stone on the head.

The banquet at the Mengcheng Prefecture lasted for two hours.

Delicacies flowed onto the table like a river, only to be cleared away just as quickly.

Feijianzi had been cultivating for thirty-two years. Although he was far from reaching the stage of bigu—abstaining from grain—he had long since lost any craving for food. No matter how many dishes were served, he only took a light taste of each. The Prefect watched his expression carefully, fearing that the food was not to the Immortal's liking and that he might incur his wrath, which left him feeling deeply anxious.

But he was more worried about the Immortal's true intentions than his appetite. Yet, there was no banquet in the world that did not come to an end; once the wine and food were finished, the true purpose would be revealed.

"May I ask, Immortal, what brings you to Mengcheng this time?" the Prefect inquired cautiously.

"Naturally, I have come to collect the jade," Feijianzi replied.

"Jade?" The Prefect was startled, his heart sinking even further. "The Bird-Mouse Temple guards the peace around Bird-Mouse Mountain, and our Mengcheng provides three thousand pieces of jade to the temple every thirty years. This is a rule established long ago, but... it has only been ten years since the masters from Bird-Mouse Mountain last collected the jade... Why... why have you come to collect it again?"

Feijianzi felt a slight flush on his face. He had begun his cultivation on the mountain at a young age and was still thin-skinned. Before descending, he had asked his senior brother for advice on how to secure enough jade.

His senior brother's teachings still echoed in his ears.

Do not worry about what the Prefect does. You need only demand the jade, and he will naturally find a way to gather it for you.

What if the Prefect refuses?

Then make him fear refusing.

Thinking of this, Feijianzi smiled and looked up.

Feijianzi was sitting facing south, and when he looked up, he saw the cliff outside the city. That solitary cliff had stood there for who knew how many thousands or tens of thousands of years.

"The jade is a trivial matter. Why don't I perform a magic trick for you, Prefect?" Feijianzi sneered, pointing toward the cliff outside the city gate. "I say I can make that cliff vanish. I wonder if you believe me or not?"

The Prefect's expression changed, but he didn't have time to say a word.

Feijianzi formed a sword-finger with his right hand and shouted, "Go!"

A streak of light shot out from somewhere on his person, transforming into a blade of light in the sky. It darted toward the cliff outside the city, circled it once, and then abruptly retracted.

The speed of the sword light was so fast that even the eye could not track it. The Prefect felt a blur before his eyes, followed by a deafening explosion. The solitary cliff that had stood for thousands of years shattered into two pieces and tumbled down the mountain.

Three thousand guests fill the hall with flowers, one sword's cold light chills fourteen prefectures.

The sun had gradually set, and the banquet had come to an end. Weary from their journey, the immortals had already retired to the guest rooms, while several attendants busied themselves clearing away the remnants. Luo Qianshan intercepted the Prefect in the corridor.

"My Lord, do you truly intend to collect the Jade Tax?" Luo Qianshan grabbed the Prefect, lowering his voice to ask.

"What else can I do?" The Prefect furrowed his brows.

He knew Luo Qianshan was unwilling to accept this, and he was even less so.

But what could he do? In this world, some things could be reasoned with; for instance, Zi Bofeng could persuade him not to collect taxes from Lower Yan Village, and he could persuade Quzhou Prefecture not to collect taxes from Mengcheng Prefecture. But could he persuade an immortal not to collect the Jade Tax?

The Prefect could not help but lift his head, looking toward the south of the city.

The massive rock that had stood atop the mountain for ten thousand years had, in that single instant, turned into countless fragments, scattering as they fell.

It was but a single sword strike.

One man, one sword—who could block it? Who could stand against it?

"My Lord, this subordinate is willing to die for the cause!" Luo Qianshan pressed his hand against the long blade at his waist, speaking each word with deliberate weight.

He knew the Prefect's ambitions, understood his temperament, and was aware of his ideals. The Prefect was of noble birth, yet he had been willing to start from the bottom, all to achieve something great and to live according to his own heart.

He had already crushed so many obstacles standing in his path, but now, was he to fall short of success at the final hurdle?

The Prefect was unwilling, and he, Luo Qianshan, was even more so.

And what of an immortal? They were but one person with one life. If only that immortal could be killed...

The Prefect opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not a single word could escape.

"My Lord, you need not issue an order; you only need to give a nod. Whether the deed succeeds or fails, Qianshan will never breathe a word of it." Believing the Prefect was unwilling to give the command, Luo Qianshan gritted his teeth and said, "My Lord, I shall disguise myself as a bandit in the dead of night and break directly into the guest room..."

"This... this..." The Prefect extended a finger.

"My Lord, you..." Luo Qianshan wanted to continue, but the Prefect grabbed his hand and pointed toward the perimeter wall.

Luo Qianshan turned his head and was instantly struck with shock.

The sky had grown dark, and shadows stretched behind the wall. From where they stood, it was impossible to make out who it was, but they clearly saw a person climbing down from the wall.

Speak of a bandit, and a bandit appears. What manner of petty thief was this, daring to scale the walls and enter Mengcheng Prefecture? Did they hold him, Luo Qianshan, in such low regard? Where were the guards outside? Were they all dead?

Record of Raising Monsters