Beneath the Heavy Curtain

Beneath the Heavy Curtain

As Zhang Yu stepped out of the Learning Affairs Hall, a gust of wind swept in, stirring his robes and sleeves. The branches and leaves of the trees beyond the doors, along with the shadows beneath them, swayed together.

Chief Wang had died yesterday—the very day Zhang Yu had emerged from the Profound Residence—in his exquisite estate outside the Academy.

He had apparently consumed a great quantity of secret medicine made from the flesh and blood of Spiritual Aberrants, dying alongside one of his favored concubines. It was said that when the bodies were discovered, they were flushed red from head to toe, as though they had just been lifted from a steamer.

Zhang Yu had always felt there was some connection between Chief Wang's death and the fact that the man had taken his application slip.

According to Assistant Instructor Song, when Chief Wang had taken the slip that day, he had cursed Zhang Yu bitterly. He seemed indignant that Zhang Yu had entered the Academy through self-recommendation, believing him to be an opportunist unqualified to study there. That was why he had acted as he did.

But if the man had truly wanted to stop him, he only needed to dispose of the application slip in secret. That would have delayed matters, and if it were investigated afterward, he could have easily evaded responsibility. If he merely wished to make his stance clear, he could have torn up the slip on the spot. Why did he have to take it away?

Did he have some other purpose?

As Zhang Yu turned the matter over in his mind, he recalled hearing from Assistant Instructor Song that Chief Wang enjoyed reading and often went to the Proclamation Hall for tea when he had nothing to do. That made Zhang Yu think of someone who might offer a more reliable judgment.

Having made up his mind, he set off.

Half a quarter-hour later, he arrived at the Proclamation Hall and found its manager, Qu Gong, on the third floor. Though they had only met a few times, they got along quite well. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Zhang Yu asked about Chief Wang.

Qu Gong glanced at the crowd moving through the hall below. "Brother Zhang, let us speak somewhere else."

He invited Zhang Yu into a brightly lit tea room. After having an attendant brew two cups of fragrant tea, he waved the man away. Leaning halfway back in a rattan chair, he smiled. "Quite a few people know that Wang Xingtong likes reading. Two or three groups have already come here today to ask about him. Brother Zhang, ask whatever you wish. I will tell you all I know."

Zhang Yu had nothing to hide. After a brief thought, he recounted how Chief Wang had taken his application slip that day. At last, he said, "I find many things about this strange. I had never had any contact with Wang Xingtong before. In Brother Qu's view, did he truly act that way merely because he could not stand someone like me entering the Academy through self-recommendation?"

Qu Gong sat upright and turned the teaspoon in his cup with one hand. Then he raised his head and said, "There are indeed quite a few people in the Academy who cling stubbornly to old rules. Naturally, they look down on those who do not enter through the 'proper path.' But Wang Xingtong was never some rigid, upright gentleman. In his early years, he wrote many newspaper articles disparaging the current state of affairs in exchange for writing fees. Whatever his employers wanted him to say, he would trumpet. Today he leaned toward one side, tomorrow toward another. He had no principles whatsoever, nor had he ever presented himself as a man of moral virtue."

He smiled meaningfully. "And yet someone like that suddenly stood on the side of moral gentlemen. It certainly was not because he had read too many books."

Zhang Yu considered this, then nodded.

Qu Gong lifted his teacup and gently blew at the leaves floating atop the tea. "Actually, it would have been very easy to withhold Brother Zhang's application slip. Wang Xingtong had been in charge of the Learning Affairs Hall for ten years and knew every trick of official paperwork. If he truly wanted to stop you, he could have casually found some flaw in the slip's format and sent it back, leaving you unable to argue. Yet though he could have used such a method, he instead chose one that looked the crudest, clumsiest, and most unreasonable. That does not seem like the work of an old hand seasoned by years of administrative affairs."

Zhang Yu looked at Qu Gong. "Then could the words Chief Wang used to denounce me that day be understood as something he deliberately conveyed in order to conceal his true intentions?"

Qu Gong took a sip of tea. After setting down the cup, he folded his hands over his abdomen and leaned back in a more comfortable posture. He looked up for a moment, then turned to Zhang Yu and said seriously, "Wang Xingtong was certainly speaking against his heart. I do not know why he did it, but without question, he was after Brother Zhang's application slip."

Zhang Yu could not help nodding. Qu Gong's judgment aligned with his own analysis. The man's objective was now essentially certain.

But what use could Wang Xingtong himself have for that thing? Did he intend to make an issue of it? Yet he himself was still within the Academy, unlike that earlier document...

Hmm?

At that thought, a flash of inspiration struck him.

The thing might not have been useful to Wang Xingtong himself, but it could be very useful to certain people!

He rose and clasped his hands in salute to Qu Gong. "Thank you, Brother Qu, for clearing up my doubts. I will take my leave now."

Qu Gong also rose from his rattan chair and returned the salute with a solemn expression. "Brother Zhang is too courteous. If you have any questions, you may come ask me again." As he escorted Zhang Yu from the tea room, he seemed to casually remark, "Brother Zhang, do you know of the Scholars' Deliberation? I hear it will soon be drawing to a close. If either side has any cards to play, they will likely try their best to lay them on the table."

Zhang Yu fell into thought.

After leaving the Proclamation Hall, he walked along a stone path shaded by the branches and leaves of Golden Parasol Trees, pondering as he went beneath the canopy where not a thread of sunlight could penetrate.

He had just realized something. The person who had appropriated his registry must have known his name. Once news of his slaying the Yao Salamander had spread and reached that person's ears, they would most likely have grown suspicious. Yet there were many people with the same name, so they could not be certain. The safest course would be to examine his native place, age, and past experiences to see whether he was the same person.

And what could be more convenient than an application slip? It contained every record that ought to be there.

If that was the case, then even if the other party possessed considerable backing, they were most likely not among the Academy's Upper Layer. Otherwise, they could have quickly obtained his detailed information, and there would have been no need to go through such trouble.

So while he was investigating the other party, they were investigating him as well!

Moreover, he realized there was something he had previously overlooked.

The person who had stolen and appropriated his document did not necessarily have to enter Taiyang Academy.

Taiyang Academy was no longer without rivals. Over the past sixty years, due to the needs of military affairs, governance, and public welfare, the Protectorate Office had successively supported three more academies—one large and two small. To weaken Taiyang Academy's influence, it had even transferred many personnel from the Academy to those institutions.

Those academies had always thrown their doors wide open to students capable of gaining admission to Taiyang Academy, even sparing no effort in nurturing them. It was entirely possible that person had gone to one of them. Yet such a choice made the cost and reward somewhat disproportionate. If the other party's background was sufficiently powerful, they certainly would not be content with that.

Besides those, there was in fact one more destination.

The Divine Commandery Army!

All soldiers of the Divine Commandery Army had previously entered through examinations. Even though times had changed, if someone entered it as a student, they would often be promoted and elevated a step faster than others. Even the Divine Robe they inherited might be more powerful.

And if the other party had originally intended to enter the Divine Commandery Army, only seeking such an identity in order to obtain a higher position within its ranks, then that would be entirely reasonable.

Especially once inside, no one would test the depth of your learning at all. That perfectly avoided the weakness of insufficient scholarly ability.

As these thoughts turned in his mind, Zhang Yu considered that if everything was as he had inferred, then the other party should already have confirmed his true identity. Following that line of reasoning, Chief Wang's death was likely not as simple as it appeared on the surface.

And that letter previously sent under Zhao Xiangcheng's name—could it also be connected to this matter?

"It seems that for the time being, I should stay within the Academy as much as possible, find items that can replenish Divine Essence, study the Seal of the Great Dao, and speak of other matters only after I have enough strength to protect myself."

At that thought, vigilance rose within him.

The Academy was very safe, but when one's life was at stake, no amount of caution could be called excessive.

He immediately returned to his residence, took out the vermilion gloves and put them on, then removed the Xia Sword hanging on the wall, intending to carry it with him from now on.

Previously, he had merely been an assistant instructor who had entered through self-recommendation. If he walked around the Academy carrying a sword, it would easily invite trouble. But things were different now. His other identity was that of a Profound Residence disciple, so there were some matters he no longer needed to care too much about.

By then, it was already noon. He swallowed a pill and sat in meditation to regulate his breathing. It was not until the sun had begun to sink that he emerged from meditation and left his residence, this time heading for the Miscellaneous Storehouse.

This place lay in the southwest corner. In truth, it was a trading ground separately designated by the Academy. Though it was still within the Academy, there were many outsiders here, so a stone wall stood across the road leading into the Academy's inner grounds as a barrier.

When he passed through, there were even people specifically assigned to inspect the identities of those coming and going. However, seeing that he wore an assistant instructor's robes and possessed an extraordinary bearing, no one stepped forward to question him. Instead, they respectfully saluted him.

Once he had smoothly passed beyond the dividing wall, he saw a vast, level expanse piled high with miscellaneous goods of every sort. To the southeast stood rows of buildings of varying heights, while laborers pushing carts moved everywhere among them. Several were sturdy, naturalized barbarians.

The place was noisy, dust swirled through the air, and it was chaotic and filthy. It was hard to imagine that beyond a single wall lay the tranquil and clean inner grounds of the Academy.

His gaze swept over the area. Aside from the proper storehouses, this was the place in the Academy where the greatest variety and quantity of goods could be found. He had previously lacked both time and an excuse to come here, so he had taken the opportunity of purchasing medicinal ingredients to look around and see whether he could find any items containing Source Energy.

But after making a circuit and spending more than an hour, he found nothing unusual.

Thinking of the several objects containing Source Energy that he had encountered before, he mused, Could such things really only be found within those ruins?

The sun had already shifted westward. Since he had gained nothing, he did not waste any more time. He went directly to the place Ren Yi had mentioned and entered through one of its tallest gatehouses.

Ren Yi was directing people below to move goods when he spotted Zhang Yu out of the corner of his eye. He hurriedly instructed someone nearby, then cheerfully came forward and clasped his hands. "Assistant Instructor Zhang, you have come."

Zhang Yu nodded and returned the salute. "Assistant Ren, I have come to collect those medicinal ingredients."

"Good, good. This way, Assistant Instructor Zhang," Ren Yi said with a beaming smile as he led the way. As they passed a short, thin, honest-looking middle-aged man, Ren Yi patted him on the shoulder. "Old Yang, go pour a cup of good tea."

The man smiled simply, glanced at Zhang Yu, drew in his right hand, and lowered his head as he walked out.

Zhang Yu turned his head slightly, his gaze lingering on the man's retreating figure for a moment.

"Come, come, Assistant Instructor Zhang, sit inside." Ren Yi invited Zhang Yu into a large open room. Though there were still many people inside, it was clear that it was regularly cleaned and relatively tidy.

"Please sit for a moment, Assistant Instructor. I will have the medicinal ingredients brought over."

Ren Yi called out, and before long, his men carefully carried in all the medicinal ingredients Zhang Yu had purchased. They arranged them on an open counter beside the window. There were around thirty packages, occupying a large stretch of the counter.

Ren Yi smiled. "Assistant Instructor Zhang, please inspect them. If there are any problems, this humble one can have them exchanged."

Zhang Yu examined them and found that there were many more ingredients than he had ordered. Their quality varied somewhat, but ordinary medicinal use differed from the requirements for refining pills. Outsiders could not possibly know the subtleties involved, so this was acceptable.

Hmm?

As he examined one particular medicinal ingredient, he suddenly sensed something strange. Pinching it between two fingers, he lifted it for a closer look. It was a bone fragment the size of a fingernail. To his surprise, it contained an extremely faint trace of Source Energy—so faint that he would almost have failed to notice it had he not been paying attention.

He looked at Ren Yi and asked, "Where were these bone fragments purchased?"

Ren Yi leaned over for a look, then picked up a worn notebook and flipped through it. "They came from a small trading house called Futong. Is Assistant Instructor Zhang dissatisfied? They can be exchanged."

Zhang Yu set the bone fragment down. The Source Energy within it was far too little; even through his gloves, he had absorbed it completely in a few breaths. "I must trouble Assistant Ren to make another trip. Purchase as much of this kind of medicinal ingredient as possible. I have use for it, and you need not worry about the price."

Ren Yi smiled. "What are you saying? Assistant Instructor Zhang is willing to favor us with his business—I could not be happier. Tomorrow, I will personally make a trip there."

Just then, heavy footsteps sounded from outside. The simple-looking man called Old Yang entered, carrying tea in one hand.

Ren Yi said unhappily, "Old Yang, why are you so slow?"

Old Yang lowered his head without speaking.

With an expression of exasperation, as though iron had failed to become steel, Ren Yi stepped forward, took the teacup, and waved him away. "Forget it, forget it. Go on, leave."

Just as Old Yang was about to go, a voice sounded from behind him.

"Wait."

Old Yang's body stiffened.

Zhang Yu looked at him, his tone casual and natural. "What happened to your right hand? May I take a look?"