At noon, the sun shone blindingly white over the Yunlin County Office.
Outside the hall, two rows of runners stood with hands on their sabers, official boots planted on blue bricks. None dared even cough freely.
In the hall, the Commandant sat upright in a high-backed chair, wearing an official robe patterned in blue. A jade belt held down its folds, and his face carried an authority that needed no anger.
Below him, Yang Shuqing knelt in the center.
The people of Three Trees Village still habitually called him Yang Da, but after entering the county town, he had long since discarded that rustic name.
Yang Shuqing.
Those three characters were written in the County Office's personnel register, in its record of merits, and in every step he had taken over the years as he clawed his way out of the mud.
The clerk beside the Commandant unfolded the reward decree, his voice ringing loud and drawn out.
"Ordered to investigate the theft of the Wang Family's secret manual in the Inner City, Yang Shuqing led a team on a swift raid into another county, slew six martial artists, captured the principal culprit alive, and recovered the stolen property. His merits are beyond dispute."
"He is awarded three hundred taels of silver."
"He is promoted one rank and appointed Deputy Chief Constable."
"He is further granted one Sinew-Breaking Bone-Pulling Pill."
As those final words fell, many runners in the hall stirred, their eyes shifting. Greed surfaced even in the eyes of several fellow constables.
The Sinew-Breaking Bone-Pulling Pill.
This was no mere silver.
Silver could be spent, gambled away, used to buy wine or slip into a woman's bed.
But a pill could change one's fate. Someone at the peak of the qi-blood second level who took it stood a chance of breaking through the third level's Tendon Refining barrier, provided their foundation was sound.
With his head lowered, Yang Shuqing's Adam's apple bobbed. He had been stuck at the peak of the Muscle Training Realm for far too long.
So long that some colleagues had been promoted, some had died, and some had used their lineage's resources to surpass him and enter the Sinew Tempering Realm, then scarcely bothered lifting their eyelids when they looked back at him.
It felt much like having a rope looped around his neck and being hung from a door beam.
He could neither die nor breathe freely.
Now it was finally his turn to break through to that realm. In Yunlin County, the qi-blood third level was a true dividing line.
Below the qi-blood third level, most could only hold relatively low-ranking posts. Only those at the third level or above could advance further, becoming senior disciples at renowned martial schools or stewards in the three major gangs.
The three great lineages of the Inner City demanded even more. Without sufficient talent, even someone at the qi-blood third level would fail to catch their eye.
The minimum requirement for the Great Yu Empire Martial Examination was also the qi-blood third level.
Thus, this realm was a dividing line in every sense.
An attendant approached, carrying a pill box.
The box was small, with an ebony base, copper clasps along its edges, and a seal from the Commandant's Office pasted on top.
Yang Shuqing accepted it with both hands, his fingertips trembling. He hurriedly steadied his hands and pressed his forehead to the floor.
"This humble subordinate thanks the Commandant for his patronage!"
The Commandant looked at him and said, "Yang Shuqing, you handled this mission well. Deputy Chief Constable is only the beginning. Apply yourself to your duties from now on, and there may yet be a place for you in the Inner City."
The Inner City.
Those words burrowed into Yang Shuqing's ears, heating even the spaces between his bones.
Prostrate on the floor, he felt the wildfire in his chest burn with a sweetness.
Once I break through to Tendon Refining, what is a mere constable?
Chief Constable, a personal attendant at the Commandant's Office, even working for a great lineage in the Inner City.
The road will only grow wider.
He even thought of Yang Er.
That good-for-nothing younger brother who had cried from hunger as a child, clutching his clothes and calling him brother.
Later, he had entered town to serve in the County Office, while Yang Er stayed in Three Trees Village, throwing his weight around under his name.
Yang Shuqing knew his brother had dirty hands and a foul mouth. Bullying people, grabbing land, taking bribes-he had done it all.
But so what? Who among the people at the bottom was clean?
His brother was just a little greedier, a little more domineering, a little less aware of his limits.
When he returned to the village and told Yang Er the good news, the brothers would lay out a table of wine, slaughter a fat chicken, and straighten out those few small businesses in Three Trees Village.
From then on, the Yang family would no longer be descended from village mudlegs.
It would be the ancestral root of the County Office's Deputy Chief Constable Yang.
After the commendation ceremony ended, Yang Shuqing withdrew from the hall.
He hid the pill box close to his body, pressing his palm against it through his official robe several times.
It did not feel hard beneath his hand, yet it reassured him more than three hundred taels of silver.
Tea had been prepared in the side hall.
The moment he stepped inside, he saw the clerk on duty standing by the door, his face terribly pale. He clutched a letter so tightly that even his cuff had crumpled.
Yang Shuqing's brows lowered. "What is it? Why all the stammering? Did a door pinch your mouth shut?"
The clerk's lips trembled as he offered the letter with both hands.
"Constable... Constable Yang, an urgent report from Three Trees Village. It has been held for several days. You were away on duty, and no one dared open it."
At the mention of Three Trees Village, Yang Shuqing's brow twitched. "An urgent report?"
He tore open the seal and unfolded the letter. The handwriting was crooked, and the ink had blurred in several places.
The writer's hands must have been shaking badly. The characters lurched every which way, like a drunk staggering along a wall.
It was Village Chief Yang Shuyu's handwriting.
At first, Yang Shuqing merely frowned. Wang Yue had led three runners into Greenwood Mountain to kill a snake and had yet to return.
His fingers tightened. Yang Dongxi and the others were dead, bloodstains lay scattered through the mountain, and only the old woodcutter Yi Yang had survived.
His breathing grew heavier.
He read on.
Yang Er had died in his home, his throat slit. A black iron token of the Nine Evil Sect had been left at the scene.
The letter slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor.
The side hall fell silent for several breaths. The clerk's scalp prickled, and he was just about to bend down to retrieve it.
Crash!
Yang Shuqing overturned the tea table.
Hot tea splashed out, bowls shattered, and porcelain shards bounced at the clerk's feet.
The clerk retreated three steps. His knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed.
Yang Shuqing stood where he was, his chest heaving frighteningly.
Veins bulged in his neck, bloodshot threads crawled across the whites of his eyes, and he clenched his teeth until his jaw creaked and ached.
He did not roar.
Yet everyone in the side hall felt their backs prickle.
Some fires of rage did not erupt outward. They burrowed into the bones.
Yang Er was dead.
His only younger brother was dead.
Their parents had died early. As children, the brothers had gone hungry and slept beneath a leaking roof. Yang Er was timid and would crawl into his bed whenever thunder sounded at night.
How old had Yang Shuqing been then?
He had been frightened himself, yet he had to pat his brother's back and tell him not to be afraid, that his big brother was there.
Later, he had entered the county town to serve as a runner, enduring veteran constables' abuse like a dog, taking blades for others, and chasing bandits at night until his feet were covered in bloody blisters.
What had he done it all for? Wasn't it so both brothers could live a cut above others?
Yang Er was a bastard. He admitted it. But that bastard was still his brother. What right did outsiders have to kill him?
Who had given them the nerve?
Yang Shuqing bent down and picked up the letter.
He read it once, then a second time, then a third.
With every reading, the murderous intent on his face deepened. The clerk knelt on the floor, not daring to lift his head, sweat dripping from his chin onto the bricks.
Yang Shuqing turned and fixed his eyes on him. "How many days ago did this letter arrive?"
The clerk's teeth chattered. "Sev... several days ago. It arrived the day after you left to investigate the case..."
Smack!
A slap whipped across his face.
The clerk toppled sideways, blood running from the corner of his mouth as half his face swelled.
Yang Shuqing leaned over him, squeezing each word through his teeth.
"Was my brother's death a trivial matter? Why didn't you send me an urgent message?"
Holding his cheek, the clerk straightened on his knees and knocked his head against the floor. "I deserve death! I deserve death!"
Yang Shuqing did not strike him again. More than a decade of service in the County Office had taught him that going mad was easy.
The difficult part was cleaning up afterward.
He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the redness had not faded; it had merely been pressed deeper inside.
Wang Yue was dead, three runners were gone, and Yang Er was dead too.
A Nine Evil Sect token. The old woodcutter Yi Yang as the sole survivor.
Strung together, these details made a tangled mess.
But however tangled it was, there would be a loose thread. Seize one and pull it to the end, and whoever hid behind it would have to show their skin.
"Zhao Si, Ma Liu."
Two runners hurried in from outside.
Zhao Si was in his thirties, sturdily built, a Skin Refining martial artist whom Yang Shuqing had personally trained.
Ma Liu was slightly older, quick on his feet and tight-lipped. He asked few questions when handling dirty work.
The moment they entered and saw the porcelain shards covering the floor and the kneeling clerk, their faces tightened.
"Chief."
Yang Shuqing folded the letter and tucked it into his robe.
"Prepare two fast horses. Bring sabers, rope, and chains. We leave now."
Zhao Si hesitated. "Chief, you've just earned a commendation. Shouldn't you report to the Commandant first? There's also the reward silver to deposit, and the Sinew-Breaking Bone-Pulling Pill needs to..."
Yang Shuqing reached up and pressed the inside of his chest. He had secured the pill box beneath the soft armor worn close to his skin.
He could not leave it at the County Office.
It was too valuable.
Valuable enough to turn blood brothers against each other, let alone colleagues.
"Have the accounts office record the reward silver."
"The pill comes with me."
Zhao Si still tried to persuade him. "But leaving the office without approved leave..."
Yang Shuqing looked at him.
Zhao Si swallowed the rest.
Ma Liu asked quietly, "Chief, are we going to Three Trees Village?"
"Yes."
Yang Shuqing strode out of the side hall, his official boots crunching over broken porcelain.
"I want to see whose neck is so tough that they dared touch my younger brother."
That evening.
Cooking smoke drifted from the rooftops of Three Trees Village. The smell of firewood mingled with the bitterness of wild greens, swirling through the village lanes.
The Yi Family's little courtyard was very quiet.
Beneath the old locust tree, Yi Yang sat in a wicker chair with a tattered short jacket draped over his knees, his face still wearing that same sickly, convalescent look.
Jiang Yuexin cooked porridge in the kitchen, steam making the pot lid rattle softly.
Any outsider who saw him would merely say Old Yi had been lucky to survive and was now nursing his damaged body.
But at night, the courtyard took on another appearance.
Four days.
For four full days, Yi Yang had feigned illness by day and practiced by night.
The six Qi-Blood Pills he had bought from Zhao Gang were all gone.
The medicinal baths made with Blood-Strengthening Decoction had left the kitchen smelling of herbs for three days. Jiang Yuexin still thought he was treating injuries sustained in the mountain. With her little face scrunched up, she fanned the fire for him, muttering that even smelling the bitter medicine was enough to kill her.
Yi Yang offered no explanation. Explaining too much would only invite trouble.
An old man knew to level up without making a sound.
After night fell, he stood in a corner of the courtyard, his arms curved as though embracing something, his feet planted on the ground.
He assumed the Yi Wood Longevity Stance.
The lingering medicinal power of the Qi-Blood Pills was squeezed out little by little, flowing through his skin, flesh, tendons, and channels.
A fine series of crisp sounds came from within his body.
Snap, snap. His tendons contracted, stretched, and knit into a unified whole.
The strength of his skin and flesh no longer fought separate battles, but was gathered together by a great invisible net.
Arms, waist, back, legs, feet, shoulders, hips.
The force in every part could join into a single line.
His age spots had faded considerably. A tough, dark sheen emerged beneath his skin, nothing dazzling, yet frighteningly resistant to blows.
Sweat rolled down Yi Yang's forehead, soaking his beard.
Small characters flickered before his eyes.
[Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art, level three: (5940/6000)]
He did not stop.
The final round of stance practice was agonizingly slow.
It felt as though countless tiny insects were crawling through his sinews and meridians, only to be ground beneath wave after wave of qi and blood.
A younger martial artist would probably have cried for his mother.
Yi Yang gritted his teeth and could not even be bothered to groan.
He had weathered sixty years of wind and frost. This little bit of suffering was still easier to stomach than wild-vegetable cakes.
[Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art, third level: (6000/6000)]
"Boom" would not have been the right word.
But in that instant, a barrier inside Yi Yang truly did open.
Qi and blood rose from his chest and abdomen, surging through his limbs and every bone in his body.
His sinews and meridians tightened, then relaxed; relaxed, then drew taut again.
The strength throughout his body was woven anew.
He raised his hand.
With just a gentle forward sweep, every blade of grass in the corner of the courtyard bowed low. A rush of air skimmed along the foot of the wall, and the dried gourd hanging there swayed twice, knocking against it with two hollow thuds.
Qi-Blood Third Level.
Sinew Tempering Realm.
Yi Yang stood where he was, motionless for a long time.
He lowered his gaze to his hand. It was still an old man's hand, deeply lined, dry-skinned, with thick knuckles.
Yet if that hand held a saber, it would wield boundless slaughter.
He checked the panel again.
[Nine Peaks Saber, minor mastery: (240/6000)]
His Nine Peaks Saber had reached minor mastery yesterday.
The saber's momentum had nine turns. He could now wield the first four peaks at will, and he had begun to grasp the workings of the last five.
If he encountered another piece of trash like Peng Qing, he could take his life with a single stroke.
Yi Yang slowly exhaled the stale breath in his chest, picked up the battered fan beside him, and fanned himself twice.
The fan was so tattered that air leaked through it, but he was in a good mood.
"Almost sixty now."
He muttered under his breath, "At last, I feel a little safe."
Jiang Yuexin poked her head out of the kitchen.
"Grandpa, what were you doing in the courtyard just now? I heard the gourd knocking."
Yi Yang turned around, stooping a little more and putting the frail look back on his face.
"The wind was strong."
Jiang Yuexin glanced at the utterly motionless locust leaves in the courtyard, then looked at him.
"Grandpa, there's no wind today."
Yi Yang coughed. "Then the gourd must have been homesick."
Jiang Yuexin puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
"Since when does a gourd have a home?"
"On the vine."
"You're fooling me again."
Yi Yang ambled toward the wicker chair.
"An old man fooling his granddaughter-that's as natural as heaven and earth."
Jiang Yuexin came out carrying the porridge, still wanting to argue.
But from somewhere beyond the courtyard came the sound of hooves striking earth.
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