The Yamen

Xu Qing had just steadied himself atop the plum blossom stakes when a burst of laughter and chatter came from the courtyard gate.

Wu Mingyuan and Tao Qing arrived with several others. They did not live at the martial hall. The few senior brothers in the outer courtyard who had attained Bright Force did not stay there often either; each held a post somewhere and had their own places to go.

Wu Mingyuan looked as he always did, dressed in a moon-white training outfit with a dark belt at his waist, his steps unhurried and composed.

Xu Qing seemed to have forgotten his earlier embarrassment. He and Zhou Wen rushed forward to greet them, both wearing broad smiles.

"Senior Brother Wu! You're here!" Zhou Wen sidled up to him, his tone carrying a hint of fawning. "Let me tell you something. Xu Qing has reached Bright Force! He broke through early this morning—Bright Force in twenty days!"

He sounded as though he were praising Xu Qing, but the gleam in his eyes plainly showed that he was waiting to watch a joke unfold.

Wu Mingyuan did not slow down or even lift his eyelids. He merely gave a nasal "Mm."

"Bright Force, that's all." Tao Qing lazily chimed in from the side. "What difference does it make whether it took twenty days or two hundred? In the end, it's still just Bright Force. No matter how fast you climb, the road is only that long."

Another senior brother surnamed Cao echoed her. "Senior Sister Tao is right. What use is being fast? You have to go far. With his middling-to-poor bones, Bright Force is the end of the road. What is there for us to compare with him?"

Zhou Wen nodded frantically, bobbing his head like a chicken pecking at grain. "Yes, yes, yes. I was only saying it casually. Senior Brother Wu, Senior Sister Tao, Senior Brother Cao, please don't take it to heart."

As Wu Mingyuan passed Xu Qing, his gaze did not shift even slightly, as though what stood there was not a person but a wooden stake, a stone—something not worth a second glance.

He was at Bright Force. Tao Qing was at Bright Force. The other two were as well. They had reached it long ago.

To them, a person with middling-to-poor bones breaking through to Bright Force was nothing more than an ant crawling up a step. Beyond that, there was no road left. In a few days, the martial hall would likely stop providing Xu Qing with meat and medicinal supplements.

A country bumpkin who could do no more than hop about at Bright Force was not worth their notice. From now on, the gap between them would only grow wider, until Xu Qing could no longer even see their backs.

Xu Qing stood atop the plum blossom stakes without looking at them. There was no anger in his heart, no resentment, not even the faintest ripple.

He did not care what they said or how they saw him. He had his own path to walk. Their gazes were not even worth the mud beneath his feet.

The moonlight was beautiful that night.

Frost on the training grounds reflected the moonlight, bright and clear, as though someone had scattered a layer of broken silver across the earth.

As usual, Xu Qing came out to practice his fists and hold his stance. Over the past few days, he had formed a habit: training by day and training by night, never stopping until he was utterly spent.

Suddenly, he felt a gaze.

It was not malicious, but rather... a watchful gaze. Very light, very quiet, like a leaf falling upon water—soundless, yet impossible not to sense.

After breaking through to Bright Force, his five senses had improved enormously.

The courtyard was exceptionally still at night. Though that gaze was faint, he sensed it with perfect clarity. Someone was watching him from the direction of the inner courtyard entrance.

Xu Qing did not turn around. He settled into his stance and began to practice his fists. As he moved, he swept a glance in that direction from the corner of his eye.

Under the moonlight, someone stood in the shadows at the inner courtyard entrance. His left leg limped slightly and his body tilted a little, yet he stood straight as a tree bent by the wind but never blown down.

Ning Yun. Senior Brother Ning!

Xu Qing's hand paused slightly, then continued its motion. Yet something seemed to lightly strike his heart.

This was probably not the first time Ning Yun had watched him practice in the dead of night. Whenever he trained extra at night, he had vaguely sensed someone observing him from the shadows. He had looked, he had glanced around, but found nothing. In the pitch-black courtyard, there had seemed to be only himself.

He had thought it an illusion and paid it no mind.

But today, he had seen him.

Had Ning Yun deliberately not hidden? Or had he simply not had time to?

Xu Qing suddenly remembered Ning Yun's gaze in the inner courtyard that day... gentle, carrying a touch of wistfulness and a touch of gratification.

He remembered what Chen Wang had said. Senior Brother Ning Yun had possessed excellent bones and extraordinary comprehension. He had entered Dark Force in less than half a year. Later, while taking the martial examinations, someone had broken the tendons in his foot. He had never resented their master, nor blamed anyone else. He had merely remained quietly at the martial hall, serving tea and pouring water for his master.

Xu Qing's eyes suddenly flickered. He thought of something else. On the night he climbed over the wall to kill Chen Jiang, had Ning Yun seen him?

That night, when he climbed over the wall, everything around him had seemed silent. There had been no one there.

But his five senses had not been as sharp then as they were now. Perhaps... Ning Yun had been in some corner, watching him climb the wall, following him, watching him kill, watching him return, and then pretending he knew nothing.

The martial hall had never questioned him about it. Not his master, not Chen Wang, no one. It was as though that incident had never happened.

Had Ning Yun concealed it for him? Or had his master known and chosen silence?

Xu Qing shook his head, scattering the jumbled thoughts in his mind.

Whether Ning Yun knew or not, whether his master knew or not, they had chosen silence. They had chosen to protect him. He would remember this bond.

He withdrew his fists and slowly exhaled a long breath of turbid air. Then he turned around and, toward the inner courtyard entrance, clasped his hands in a distant salute.

Under the moonlight, the limping figure paused slightly, as if he had not expected Xu Qing to turn back. One breath passed, then two. At last, he too clasped his hands in salute, his movements slow and solemn.

Then the figure turned and vanished into the shadows. His left leg limped with every step, his footsteps so soft, as though he feared disturbing the stillness of the night.

Xu Qing lowered his hands, turned around, and continued practicing his fists.

Thump, thump, thump—

The sounds of his punches echoed through the night, each one heavier and steadier than the last.

Early the next morning, Xu Qing tucked Zhao Yan's handwritten letter into his robes and hurried to the county yamen.

The county yamen stood in the eastern part of the city, with gray tiles and blue bricks. Two stone lions bared their fangs at the entrance, each a full size larger than the pair outside the martial hall.

Xu Qing waited at the entrance for the time it took an incense stick to burn before someone finally led him inside.

After passing a screen wall and turning past two rows of side rooms, the yamen runner leading the way stopped outside a room and knocked. "Chief, someone from the Zhao Family Martial Hall is here."

"Come in," a hoarse voice said from inside.

Xu Qing pushed the door open and entered.

The room was not large. Several long benches stood against the wall, while a square table sat in the center. A few ledgers lay spread across it, beside a teapot and a rough porcelain tea bowl.

A man in his thirties or forties sat behind the table. He had a square face, thick brows, and downturned lips. He wore a somewhat worn black uniform, with a bronze badge hanging at his waist.

This man was Constable Qi.

Constable Qi had been looking down at something. Hearing footsteps, he raised his head and gave Xu Qing a once-over. His gaze was not heavy, but it carried a hint of scrutiny, like a man at the market checking the teeth of cattle and horses before buying them.

"Where is Hall Master Zhao's letter?"

Xu Qing took the letter from his robes and offered it with both hands.

Constable Qi accepted it, opened it, and skimmed through it. Yet his expression grew increasingly strange.

He set the letter down, tapped the tabletop twice with his fingers, then picked up and examined two other letters on the table. His brows twisted into a knot.

"Sit." He pointed at the bench opposite him. His tone was more courteous than before, though that courtesy carried a trace of difficulty.

Xu Qing sat down and waited for him to speak.

Constable Qi lifted the tea bowl and took a gulp, then set it down and rubbed his hands together, as if considering how to begin. His hands were large, his knuckles thick and sturdy. At a glance, one could tell he was an old hand.

At last, he sighed and pushed the other two letters toward Xu Qing. "Take a look at these."

Xu Qing lowered his gaze.

Two letters, bearing two signatures: Liu Zhengfeng and Yu Tai.

He had heard those two names from Chen Wang. Liu Zhengfeng was the hall master of Longwind Martial Hall, while Yu Tai presided over Rushing Thunder Martial Academy.

Chen Wang had also said that Yu Tai, the hall master of Rushing Thunder Martial Academy, was his master's sworn nemesis.

Not the kind of sworn nemesis who nodded when they met and stabbed each other in the back afterward. The kind who wished they could swallow the other whole, skin and all, without even spitting out the bones.