A Lesson

Feng Zhihao saw how casually he took the matter, his expression darkening as he said coldly, "If the Heir Apparent is skilled with the sword, by all means, use it."

"No need." Chu Zhiyuan shook his head. "Young Sect Master, be careful—my techniques win through speed."

Feng Zhihao replied flatly, "How coincidental. So do mine. Heir Apparent, make your move!"

A faint yellow gleam flickered across his face.

Through Super Sensation, Chu Zhiyuan saw the yellow light on Feng Zhihao flare up sharply as his True Qi began to concentrate in his feet.

"You first, Young Sect Master," Chu Zhiyuan said. "If I strike, you'll have no chance to act."

"Heh!" Feng Zhihao let out a cold laugh. "Here I come!"

Both palms turned yellow as if smeared with mud, and his body transformed into a yellow blur as he shot forward in an instant.

Chu Zhiyuan deduced that he, too, possessed a miraculous technique like the Within Reach, Yet Worlds Apart Step.

The Thick Earth Sect excelled at borrowing the power of the earth; their lightness skill drew on that same force, so it was no surprise they had a similar extraordinary movement art.

Under Super Sensation, Feng Zhihao's movements played out like slow motion—every action crystal clear, down to the flutter of his hair and the faint ripple of fine fuzz on his face.

Judging the timing, Chu Zhiyuan took a diagonal step to the side. Feng Zhihao charged exactly into his original position, while Chu Zhiyuan landed precisely behind him.

He lightly slapped a palm against Feng Zhihao's back.

"Pop!"

Feng Zhihao halted, standing as still as a post.

"Pfft!" His frozen body suddenly convulsed, and a jet of blood burst from his mouth, scattering into a mist of crimson that gleamed brilliantly under the sunlight.

Chu Zhiyuan withdrew his palm and stood upright.

Feng Zhihao slowly turned to face him.

Chu Zhiyuan shook his head in disappointment.

The moment his palm touched Feng Zhihao's back, Super Sensation had thoroughly perceived the flow of True Qi through his internal organs and Meridians.

Two clusters of True Qi were stored in Feng Zhihao's Yongquan acupoints at the soles of his feet, as if he were stepping on wind-fire wheels—no wonder his footwork was so fast.

Similarly, two clusters of True Qi in the Laogong acupoints at his palms gave his hands extraordinary speed.

Feng Zhihao gritted his teeth and spat out two words: "A—gain!"

"By all means!" Chu Zhiyuan smiled.

A yellow flash crossed Feng Zhihao's face, and his figure vanished in an instant, reappearing behind Chu Zhiyuan the next moment.

Chu Zhiyuan flickered away and appeared behind him in turn.

This time, Feng Zhihao was prepared. He twisted his waist, spun around, and met him with both palms.

But Chu Zhiyuan sidestepped forward, slipping his right palm lightly between the two hands and striking Feng Zhihao square in the chest.

"Bam!"

Feng Zhihao shot backward like a bolt, slammed into the wall, and hung there like a painting, motionless.

Chu Zhiyuan shook his head, then flicked a small mud pellet with his toe.

The pellet struck Feng Zhihao's Dantian.

"Urgh... cough, cough, cough, cough..."

Feng Zhihao sucked in air with an exaggerated gasp, his chest swelling to an absurd degree, then he coughed violently as he slid down the wall to the base, hacking without pause.

Chu Zhiyuan shook his head again.

Guo Chi watched with glee, nearly clapping in applause.

Zou Fang shot a smiling glance at Feng Zhihao and shook her head.

After dozens of coughs, Feng Zhihao slowly pushed himself up against the wall, wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve, and said coldly, "I misjudged you. Fine skills, Heir Apparent!"

Against all odds, it had actually happened.

This nearly crippled Prince Qing's Estate—its Heir Apparent was this formidable!

Chu Zhiyuan shook his head with a smile. "Young Sect Master's cultivation is not lacking, but your Martial Skill is poor and your timing off."

Feng Zhihao had no retort.

He could sense that their True Qi was roughly equal, yet he was beaten without any chance to fight back.

The frustration gnawed at him.

Chu Zhiyuan said, "That's what happens when you focus solely on internal cultivation. You still need to train your Martial Skill properly, or you'll embarrass the Thick Earth Sect."

Feng Zhihao's face turned ashen, but he said nothing.

Chu Zhiyuan added, "A pity today—nothing gained. Young Sect Master, your martial arts don't match your temper. For us Martial Artists, a big temper is fine, but your skill has to back it up, doesn't it?... We'll spar again another day."

Feng Zhihao felt even more stifled, grinding his teeth as he said coldly, "One month from now, we'll fight again!"

Chu Zhiyuan nodded. "Then we'll meet in a month. I'm off."

He clasped his hands, turned, and walked away.

Guo Chi and Zou Fang didn't even glance at Feng Zhihao as they followed Chu Zhiyuan away.

Feng Zhihao stared daggers at Chu Zhiyuan's retreating back, his eyes shooting cold light, his emotions churning violently.

Chu Zhiyuan's Super Sensation saw it all with perfect clarity.

This Young Sect Master doesn't seem broad-minded. He holds grudges. I'll need to teach him a few proper lessons.

After they had gone a good distance from Earthly Soil Hall, Chu Zhiyuan said, "Zou Fang, find a residence within a hundred meters of Earthly Soil Hall."

"Yes." Zou Fang acknowledged softly.

Guo Chi walked at Chu Zhiyuan's other side and sneered, "That bastard. The Young Master taught him well!"

By dusk the next day, Chu Zhiyuan entered a residence about fifty meters from Earthly Soil Hall. He surveyed the three-courtyard compound and found it quite satisfactory.

The previous owner of this house had clearly been a wealthy man—understated elegance laced with luxury.

What pleased him most was the fifty-meter distance between this house and Earthly Soil Hall.

He could see everything at Earthly Soil Hall with perfect clarity, especially the Quiet Room at the back, and that strange painting was clearly visible.

After making a full circuit, he left the residence and returned to Prince Qing's Estate.

A bright full moon hung high in the sky.

The Bright Moon Restaurant was like a celestial palace.

Chu Zhiyuan sat in a private room on the third floor, enjoying the moonlight through the open window while drinking wine and eating fine dishes.

At the table with him were Gao Lingfeng and several officials from the Ministry of Rites, including one Assistant Director, Zhou Xudong, who held the same rank as Chu Zhiyuan, along with a few Secretaries.

They chatted idly as they drank.

Such banquets were clearly routine for them. After a few cups of wine, they shed their reserve and spoke freely.

The Ministry of Rites was a barren post with little to gain, so conflicts of interest among its officials were few, and relations were generally harmonious.

Another Assistant Director, Zhou Xudong, came from a poor background but was a true scholar, no less gifted than Gao Lingfeng. He'd simply had worse luck—he placed third in the imperial examinations. Given his origins, he should have long since left the Ministry of Rites to spread his wings elsewhere, not remained stuck there at forty as a frustrated man.

Chu Zhiyuan was curious but didn't pry, merely observing.

Zhou Xudong was tall and straight-backed, with an ordinary face and dark, weathered skin. He looked more like a farmer than an official. But after a few cups, he made a startling declaration: "These martial arts sects are all sources of chaos. Ordinary folk have suffered under them for too long. If you ask me, they should all be wiped out!"

Chu Zhiyuan was taken aback.

"Yes, they should all be wiped out!"

"They're all a plague!"

The Secretaries pounded the table, chiming in one after another.

Chu Zhiyuan watched them, their eyes blazing with fervor, their emotions running high as if they were about to come to blows. He shook his head inwardly.

This is clearly pent-up frustration.

Every official he'd met from the Department of Martial Affairs held no goodwill toward the martial sects.

He'd thought Gao Lingfeng was already radical, but now he saw that Gao's idea of weakening and restraining them wasn't radical at all. These men were far more extreme.

Zhou Xudong fixed his eyes on Chu Zhiyuan. "Lord Chu, do you think the Town Martial Division is enough to intimidate the martial world into not committing crimes?"

Chu Zhiyuan looked at him, knowing he didn't need an answer.

Zhou Xudong sneered. "In those remote regions, how many innocent people have been killed without anyone finding out? No matter how capable the Town Martial Division is, their numbers are limited, and their reach is limited. Too many murderers roam free!"

The others echoed him.

Crimes committed by martial arts masters were extremely hard to investigate. If a sword or blade was used, there was hope of identifying the martial arts style from the wounds and narrowing down the suspects. But what if no blade was used?

A single pebble flicked from a finger could take a life. How could the killer be traced?

"A sharp blade in hand, murder in the heart. Once these martial arts masters are provoked, if they run into someone weaker or someone who doesn't practice martial arts, they kill without hesitation."

"Alas... it's like wolves meeting sheep—they slaughter at will!"

"Someone who seems perfectly good-natured might kill after drinking!"

"These martial sects are wild and untamed. They rarely serve the Imperial Court on the battlefield. They just hide among the people and wreak havoc!"

"They should be eradicated!"

"Lord Chu, am I wrong?" Zhou Xudong smiled. "Do you think these martial arts masters shouldn't be suppressed?"

Chu Zhiyuan shook his head with a smile. "Lord Zhou, I've only just arrived. I've seen little and experienced little. I dare not speak recklessly."

Zhou Xudong sighed. "Lord Chu shouldn't have come to the Department of Martial Affairs. Even if you had to enter the Ministry of Rites, you shouldn't have joined this department. The other four divisions are where true ease lies."

Chu Zhiyuan smiled. "I practice martial arts myself, after all."

Zhou Xudong shook his head and sighed repeatedly, clearly regretting his choice. As a Young Master, if he'd taken a sinecure in one of the other divisions, he could have enjoyed true freedom and leisure.

Joining the Department of Martial Affairs is asking for trouble. When all is said and done, the Department plays the good cop—coaxing people, not cracking down on them.

Sometimes, I really wish we could just wipe out those sects, but instead we have to swallow our temper and coax them, even endure their tantrums.

These sects grow bolder by the day, paying less and less heed to the Department of Martial Affairs!

That breeds a mountain of resentment among us, yet duty binds us, and we have no outlet for our anger.

This has fostered their dissatisfaction with the martial world's sects and its masters—they wish they could purge them all cleanly and be done with the trouble.

Chu Zhiyuan listened, frowning inwardly.

He had assumed that with the Imperial Court's might, the Department of Martial Affairs, as its representative, could wield the Court's authority and hold the upper hand in dealings with the martial sects.

But from what they were saying, it was the exact opposite.

If that were truly the case, it shouldn't be so.

The Department of Martial Affairs, after all, represents the Imperial Court—how could it allow the martial sects to be so insolent?

He pondered the crux of the matter.

Was the Imperial Court deliberately making the Department a pressure valve for their grievances?

He shook his head inwardly.

The men drank late into the night, the atmosphere growing warmer by the hour, and when they dispersed, each left content.

Chu Zhiyuan did not return to Prince Qing's Estate but went straight back to the new residence he had purchased.