Disposition

Chu Zhiyuan frowned immediately. "Earthly Soil Hall?"

"Exactly, Earthly Soil Hall!" Gao Lingfeng sneered coldly. "Arrogant to the skies—I knew they'd stir up a disaster one day."

Chu Zhiyuan sat back down behind his desk and waved a hand. "Lord Gao, sit and tell me the details."

"Yes." Gao Lingfeng clasped his fist and sat down in the Grand Master's Chair below the steps.

"Someone, serve tea." Chu Zhiyuan raised his voice.

A minor clerk quickly entered and presented the tea.

Gao Lingfeng took the teacup, lifted the lid, took a light sip, set it down on the table, cleared his throat, and said in a low voice, "This happened last night."

"Mm."

"Last night, disciples of Earthly Soil Hall and disciples of the Flying Flower Sword Sect were in a book hall. A dispute arose over a woman, and it eventually came to blows. Two Flying Flower Sword Sect disciples were injured—one lightly, one severely—and two Earthly Soil Hall disciples suffered minor injuries."

"How many people were involved in total?"

"Two Flying Flower Sword Sect disciples against two Earthly Soil Hall disciples. That Miss Linglong from the Zhenlong Pavilion is the lover of an Earthly Soil Hall disciple. When she was drinking with a Flying Flower Sword Sect disciple, the Thick Earth Sect disciple happened to show up. The two sides started arguing, then fought... Heh, these martial artists are all the same—drawing blades at the slightest provocation, never stopping until blood is spilled."

"How severe is the severe injury to the Flying Flower Sword Sect disciple?" Chu Zhiyuan asked.

"A broken arm, a lot of blood lost. The man is crippled."

"Is his life out of danger?"

"At least no one died."

"That's a relief."

Chu Zhiyuan let out a sigh.

A death versus no death—the nature of the matter was completely different, like a criminal case versus a civil one in his past life.

"Where are the people now?"

"All detained at the Town Martial Division."

"What will the Town Martial Division do?"

"For something like this, with no deaths and it being a sect dispute, the Town Martial Division will first see what the Department of Martial Affairs thinks."

"And what does the Director think?"

"The Director leaves the decision to you, my lord."

"...Heh!" Chu Zhiyuan laughed and shook his head.

All old foxes.

Gao Lingfeng said, "My lord, this time we can't go soft. We need to give them a taste of hardship and set some rules for their sects!"

"What rules?" Chu Zhiyuan asked.

Gao Lingfeng straightened his expression and said gravely, "Everyone, no matter who they are, must obey the law and follow the Imperial Court's rules. Otherwise, if a disciple is unfilial, the sect will be implicated!"

"These rules..." Chu Zhiyuan shook his head. "If we really do that, we'll face trouble everywhere, endless and unceasing."

He had once wondered why the Imperial Court was so lenient with the martial sects, governing them so loosely. With the Court's power, it could easily bring the sects to heel and make them obedient.

But reality was different. The Imperial Court didn't suppress the martial sects, and the Town Martial Division only dealt with those who committed crimes.

He didn't know the exact reason, but he knew there had to be one.

As the Heir Apparent, he shouldn't oppose the Imperial Court by trying to strictly discipline the martial sects and tighten the reins on them.

Gao Lingfeng had the world on his mind and upheld justice, wanting to purge the negative influence of the martial sects—but that was idealism.

He and Gao Lingfeng were not on the same path.

Selflessness and impartial law enforcement were fine, but his goal wasn't to be a good official. It was to become a Grandmaster.

To become a Grandmaster, he had to focus on cultivation. His official position was only to earn merits and obtain cultivation resources. There was no need to clash with the various martial sects.

Blending in with the world was the most carefree and trouble-free approach.

Gao Lingfeng said in a low voice, "Is my lord afraid of trouble?"

"I am indeed afraid of trouble." Chu Zhiyuan nodded without hesitation.

"My lord!" Gao Lingfeng hurriedly said. "You are of imperial blood, how noble and exalted—how could you fear these people?"

"Enough, Lord Gao," Chu Zhiyuan waved his hand. "Let both sides wait for now. Just don't let the Town Martial Division release them."

"Then..."

"Let's see who jumps out." Chu Zhiyuan said.

Gao Lingfeng's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard.

If they really held these people without letting them go, the pressure would only mount.

The Flying Flower Sword Sect would likely bring out Grandmaster Song, and Earthly Soil Hall would probably bring out the Thirteenth Prince, Prince Huai.

Chu Zhiyuan smiled faintly. "Lord Gao, what do you think?"

Gao Lingfeng didn't think much of this idea. He said, "My lord, please think twice."

"Not appropriate?" Chu Zhiyuan's smile grew wider.

"...My Lord, the Town Martial Division likely doesn't want to shoulder that responsibility."

"Then how should it be handled?"

"Well... My Lord, there are actually precedents for such matters."

"A beating for both sides, then a heavy penalty?" Chu Zhiyuan chuckled. "What kind of heavy penalty is usual?"

This Gao Lingfeng, though upright, was not truly stupid—not ignorant, but disdainful of such games, clinging to the convictions in his heart.

He had read some records of the Department of Martial Affairs' actions at the Tongtian Pavilion and knew the precedent for handling disputes over jealousy: a beating for both sides.

No regard for who won or lost; if you lost, there was nothing to say—blame your inferior skill and go train harder.

And they didn't directly pursue the sect's responsibility, only targeting the individuals.

Gao Lingfeng was too greedy.

"Deduct merits." Gao Lingfeng let out a cold laugh. "Merits are their lifeline, their sore spot."

Chu Zhiyuan smiled. "Deduct two Ninth Grade Merits from all four?... Is there an interrogation dossier?"

"It's still going through the Town Martial Division's process; likely won't be submitted until tomorrow."

"Then let's wait until tomorrow after seeing the dossier to decide."

Without clarity, he couldn't make a rash judgment. Precedents existed, but he had to determine whether they applied—whether it was truly a jealousy-fueled brawl or if there were other circumstances.

"My Lord is wise!" Gao Lingfeng clasped his fists.

"Lord Gao..." Chu Zhiyuan smiled. "Lord Gao has learned to beat around the bush too. Officialdom truly changes a person."

"My Lord..." Gao Lingfeng hurriedly said.

Chu Zhiyuan continued, "Lord Gao feared I might favor the Flying Flower Sword Sect, didn't you?... Actually, it wouldn't hurt them to suffer a little now."

The Flying Flower Sword Sect still hadn't found their proper place.

The Imperial Court wasn't relying on them; it was out of respect for Grandmaster Song that they opened a convenient door for them to enter the Town Martial Division.

But that was all.

If they thought the Imperial Court would favor them further in other matters, they were being far too sentimental.

The Flying Flower Sword Sect had always overestimated themselves, their self-regard far too high.

"Yes." Gao Lingfeng clasped his fists in admiration. "My Lord thinks far ahead, with such painstaking care. I hope they can understand."

He sighed inwardly.

He knew this Fourth Heir Apparent was clever, but he hadn't expected such sharpness, such thoroughness in action—was this the power of the Emperor's bloodline?

Born with abundant wisdom, as if able to see through men's hearts.

He had thought his own cultivation and experience were sufficient, but before him, all that training became a joke. Who could have guessed he was only twenty and had been confined in the Prince's Estate for twenty years?

"Go on." Chu Zhiyuan waved his hand.

"Yes." Gao Lingfeng clasped his fists deeply and withdrew.

Chu Zhiyuan watched him leave, furrowed his sword-like brows in thought for a moment, and felt a surge of emotion.

This was officialdom—even the most upright man learned to play mind games.

He had just returned to his newly purchased residence when Guo Chi entered to report that Huang Shirong had arrived.

Chu Zhiyuan rose to greet her.

On the bustling Phoenix Street, Huang Shirong stood at the foot of the steps before the gate, dressed in an apricot-yellow silk gown, her figure graceful as a swaying willow.

Two White-Clad Girls flanked her.

Chu Zhiyuan stepped out the door, clasped his fists with a smile in greeting, and led her inside.

Huang Shirong entered with a light, elegant step, her bright eyes blinking. "So this is the Young Master's new residence?"

While patrolling the main street, a guard from Prince Qing's Estate had approached her, saying the Fourth Heir Apparent wished to see her. She had come without hesitation.

"Let's talk inside."

Chu Zhiyuan guided her to a small pavilion in the courtyard and sat down at the stone table.

Bright sunlight poured into the yard; by the wall, a patch of green bamboo leaves trembled gently, their rustling sound seeming to shut out the clamor of the street beyond.

Zou Fang served tea.

After drinking, Chu Zhiyuan slowly set down the white porcelain cup. "Hall Master Huang, have you heard of last night's conflict between the Flying Flower Sword Sect and the Thick Earth Sect?"

"It was in the East First Hall's area," Huang Shirong said, lightly furrowing her delicate brows and shaking her head. "A jealousy-fueled brawl, very ordinary."

"Is there any other shadow behind it?" Chu Zhiyuan asked.

Huang Shirong's bright eyes flickered, and she said softly, "Does the Young Master suspect someone is secretly pulling strings, deliberately inciting a clash between the two sects' disciples?"

"One must be cautious."

"...I'll inform Hall Master He of East First Hall and give him a heads-up."

Chu Zhiyuan gestured around the courtyard and said with a smile, "Hall Master Huang, what do you think of my residence?"

Huang Shirong glanced around appraisingly, then moved her lotus steps to look about further before returning to his side. She pursed her lips in a smile and asked, "Doesn't the Heir Apparent find it too noisy?"

This residence opened directly onto Phoenix Avenue, where bustling crowds never ceased day or night. Even sleeping in the second or third courtyard, one would still find it noisy.

"I enjoy the liveliness."

"Then this place is quite good—a busy spot within a busy spot, the liveliest of the lively."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Huang Shirong took her leave.

Chu Zhiyuan had a vague sense that this matter wasn't so simple, but he hoped he was just overthinking it.

Finally, he could focus on practicing the Sword Washing Art!