Chapter 50: The True Mastermind
With a thud, the foreman’s corpse hit the ground. Li Zhi, under the alias Bull Ding, had already closed the distance to the constable disguised as an accountant in a single bound, nearly leaving an afterimage.
There was nothing fancy about it. His arm swelled, and he raised a fist the size of a sand pot and drove it straight forward.
Seeing the air being torn apart, the constable had no time to dodge and could only raise his saber to block.
Clang!
The saber shattered into several pieces, sheath and all. Li Zhi’s fist barely slowed before it struck the constable square in the chest.
Amid the sound of ribs snapping one after another, the constable staggered back several steps and collapsed to the ground, more breath leaving than entering.
Clad in short brown clothes, Li Zhi’s hoofed feet stomped down once and he shot forward with the divine stride of a galloping horse, his black-scaled serpent tail trailing behind as he hurtled toward the nearby warehouse.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Three sharp arrows flew from the watchtower to the east, tracing a line from Li Zhi’s former position all the way to his destination. They punched through wooden planks or blasted craters in the earth, but ultimately arrived a beat too late.
After Li Zhi threw himself into the warehouse, he kicked out repeatedly, shattering multiple jars of potent spirits. Liquor flowed wildly across the floor, its fragrance filling the air.
Immediately after, the notorious bandit of New Yu retrieved several pre-hidden jars of gunpowder from the depths of the warehouse and lit the fuses with a fire-starter.
As the fuses rapidly shortened, Li Zhi sprinted toward the far side of the warehouse, turned sideways, and crashed through the wooden wall with a bang. He tumbled out as the structure swayed and groaned behind him.
Boom!
Explosions rang out one after another, blowing the warehouse roof sky-high and sending thick black smoke billowing upward.
Crimson flames followed, rapidly consuming the warehouse and surging into the sky.
The commotion immediately drew squads of patrolling constables and Brightnight Sect disciples rushing toward the docks. From the eastern watchtower, Yi Qincang drew four white-feathered arrows and nocked all of them on his bowstring simultaneously.
Swoosh!
Four arrows shot out as one, each igniting with a blazing red glow. They transformed into brilliant fire serpents, flying toward Li Zhi from all four directions—front, back, left, and right.
Li Zhi paid them no mind and simply charged forward. In his eyes, a single violently burning crimson fire-arrow was reflected.
That arrow moved so fast it nearly broke the sound barrier. Li Zhi didn’t even have a chance to raise his fist to deflect it. He could only flex the muscles in his legs, push off with his anomalous hooves, and wrench himself sideways hard enough to leave an afterimage.
This was the divine stride technique from the Celestial-Human Ten Forces Secret Script.
The three arrows Yi Qincang had fired left, right, and behind all missed. The crimson fire-arrow pursuing Li Zhi struck the afterimage, then continued onward, hurtling toward the slowing enemy’s spine.
Li Zhi suddenly twisted his waist, turning his body sideways. The crimson arrow grazed past his back, leaving behind a distinct smell of scorching, a deep blackened wound, and a tuft of horse-hair that caught fire.
Rolling and tumbling, Li Zhi threw himself into another warehouse.
...
Inside the Zhen estate.
Lin Hansheng, the Magistrate of Dingjiang Prefecture who had already arrived, heard the explosions from the eastern docks and saw the firelight rising into the sky.
His dark-complexioned face showed no wavering. He did not go to reinforce the docks. Instead, he raised both palms, which were covered in dark blue-black scales.
A deep, eerie mist immediately pervaded the area, as though dark clouds were concealed within.
Wind rose suddenly, and the cloud-mist—covering a hundred-foot radius and seemingly brewing a violent storm—was blown rapidly toward Riverwaves Hall. In just a few breaths, it had enveloped the building.
In the eyes of Capsized Vessel Sect’s Dai Shen, the pre-storm mist was impossibly ethereal. Something long and sinuous seemed to be charging through its depths, appearing and vanishing unpredictably, making it impossible to know from which direction it would emerge next.
Lin Hansheng had trained at the Flame Capital Martial Academy, ascending step by step to the Dharma Realm. Currently a second-rank Subtlety Attuned Grandmaster, his martial art was the Flood Dragon Metamorphosis Scripture. This strike was the First Metamorphosis—Cloud-Mist Metamorphosis.
With a body hidden within clouds, it was impossible to trace. His fists were like a flood dragon’s, unleashing a mountain torrent.
Unable to discern where Lin Hansheng’s punch would come from, how it would arrive, or where it would land, Dai Shen could only bring his tiger claws together before his chest, as if cradling an invisible water sphere, then gently rotate it.
The Zhen household retainers, guards, and scions who had been slaughtering each other inside and outside Riverwaves Hall—along with Su Chongxiao’s attendants and Ren Youyang’s guards—suddenly felt a nearly phantasmal blood-colored essence fly from their bodies, converging between Dai Shen’s palms in the blink of an eye.
The violent impulse within them dissipated as they collapsed to the ground, drained and on the verge of unconsciousness.
An instant later, only Zhen Qianfan was still attacking Su Chongxiao, while Lin Hansheng’s cloud-mist enveloped Dai Shen.
The invisible sphere between Dai Shen’s palms rapidly took on streaks of blood-red.
Just as Lin Hansheng’s fist—covered in dark blue-black scales, arm and all—burst from the dim clouds like a leaping flood dragon, striking from a direction his opponent could never have anticipated, aimed at the left-path demon’s waist, Dai Shen slammed his palms together.
The blood-colored sphere silently exploded, transforming into phantom red waves composed of sword techniques, fist intents, saber forces, and staff strikes. With Dai Shen’s body at the center, they surged outward in all directions without gap or omission, successfully intercepting Lin Hansheng’s traceless punch.
Gather the waters—only then can you capsize the vessel!
This even tore apart the dim clouds, revealing the "flood dragon" to all.
Lin Hansheng had a horse-like face, dotted with patches of dark blue-black scales.
...
After releasing the specialized fireworks, Qi Xiaoxiang, under the alias Liu Yuzao, paid Qin Nuansheng no further attention. With a tap of her toes, she slipped nimbly out of the Lotus Pond Courtyard.
She swiftly entered another building, tore down curtains and hangings, then produced a fire-starter. With a pull and a blow, she set everything ablaze.
As flames rose, Qi Xiaoxiang moved through building after building, setting fires indiscriminately. The entire Zhen estate became a living hell—smoke rising and fires burning at every turn.
Servants and maids either fled in all directions or attempted to fight the fires. Everything was in chaos.
Occasionally, guards or retainers who hadn’t gone to Riverwaves Hall encountered Qi Xiaoxiang. The woman would either use her movement technique to slip past them entirely, or draw a short sword barely over a foot long. She would lightly flick aside her opponent’s weapon with casual ease, then, as bewilderment filled their faces, follow through with a stroke across their throats.
Their shocked incomprehension froze in their eyes. They seemed unable to fathom how they had died so quickly, unable to understand why martial arts they had drilled to perfection now felt so unfamiliar—as though they no longer belonged to them—leaving openings everywhere.
...
Atop the tallest watchtower.
Zheng Zhuxi alternated her gaze between the county office and the Zhen estate, finding both in considerable chaos.
Inside the county office, Brightnight Sect disciples had not been afflicted by "moth-seeds" and were working alongside some constables to subdue former colleagues who had become "moth-people." Meanwhile, Qiu Chen, under the alias Ding Shengyi, had been darting between rooms, never allowing himself to be exposed to watchtower surveillance.
The Zhen estate, on the other hand, had fires breaking out everywhere and maids and servants scattering in all directions. Apart from the area around Riverwaves Hall, it was impossible to determine where intruders remained or how many there were.
Seeing that Senior Military Advisor Gao and others from the prefectural office had already reached the county office, Zheng Zhuxi breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the Zhen estate.
She noticed her mother, Tao Wenshu, merely gazing at the estate with starlight hidden in her eyes, not even assuming a stance to draw her sword. Feeling somewhat puzzled and concerned, she asked, "Mother, why haven’t you made your move yet?"
Tao Wenshu smiled faintly.
"The true mastermind hasn’t appeared yet."
The true mastermind? Zheng Zhuxi’s thoughts stirred. She immediately let her pupils take on the dim but warm glow of candlelight.
When she looked toward the Zhen estate again, every detail became extraordinarily clear, as though the distance between them had shrunk to within a hundred feet.
Zheng Zhuxi swept her gaze rapidly across the various scenes. Suddenly, she caught a figure flashing through the corridor leading to Zhen Qianfan’s residence—a glimpse of pale spring-onion white.
...
Inside the Zhen estate’s secret prison.
Seeing that Yan Changqing within his consciousness had gone silent and closed his eyes to rest, Ding Songyan had no choice but to suppress his anxiety. He split his attention, devoting half his mind to earnestly narrating The Legend of the White Snake.
After a while, Yan Changqing within his consciousness slowly opened his eyes and said with a faint smile, "You may act now."
Deep underground where no commotion could be heard, Ding Songyan was momentarily startled, then felt his heart leap into his throat.
Yan Changqing said to him unhurriedly, "Split the qi I gave you into two halves, move them to both palms, and strike the men on either side simultaneously.
"Afterward, I’ll replenish you so you can carry me out of the Zhen estate."
"Understood." Ding Songyan immediately let the hazy "seed" split in two, directing each half into a palm.
His mind and spirit instantly unified, "elevating" him above when he sensed the breathing of the two Zhen clan scions flanking him, sensed the existence of heaven and earth’s vital energy, and sensed the chaotic presence of clouds, mist, rain, and water not far away.
Ding Songyan could no longer continue narrating The Legend of the White Snake. He closed his mouth, followed the breathing he had sensed, and shoved both palms outward toward the two Zhen scions.
At that moment, a thought suddenly struck him as wrong.
Why am I so obedient to Yan Changqing? He tells me to strike and I strike? He tells me to kill and I kill?
Hadn’t I resolved to stall whenever possible, to refuse cooperation wherever I could, and wait for the authorities to arrive?
The Zhen household is my enemy, the "Ding family" is my enemy, and Yan Changqing is also my enemy!
It was too late to halt his outward-pushing palms. He could only forcibly withdraw a portion of his strength.
BANG!
Torrential floods burst from his palms, crashing into the two Zhen scions.
They were sent flying backward, slamming into the walls. Each uttered a single groan of pain before falling silent.
Ding Songyan hurriedly tore the black cloth from his face and found that both Zhen scions had been knocked unconscious.
Then he turned his gaze forward.
In the cramped cell, behind the flickering oil lamp, stood a grand armchair. In it sat a man.
The man wore a Huayang scholar’s cap and a cyan scholar’s robe. His features were gaunt, his temples streaked with grey-white. It was none other than Yan Changqing.
Almost simultaneously, Ding Songyan noticed that the sleeves and lower hem of the cyan robe hung limp and empty, with nothing to support them.
Yan Changqing had no arms and legs.
"Young friend, you may take out that dagger now." Yan Changqing’s voice resonated within Ding Songyan’s consciousness.
His eyes had both black and white as they should, but the black irises seemed to carry some strange power that drew one’s attention irresistibly.
"Zhen Qianfan administers strange drugs to me every day. If that thing is not removed, I fear it will be impossible to truly escape his grasp afterward. He greatly underestimates my knowledge."
You want me to cut you open? Surprised though he was, Ding Songyan still retrieved the finely-forged steel dagger from a hidden pocket in his clothing.
He had barely taken two steps forward when a sudden pounding erupted from behind.
Before he could react, the heavy iron door was being pushed open with a grinding screech.
Who? Ding Songyan whirled around in alarm and saw a figure both familiar and strange.
She wore a pale spring-onion-white short jacket embroidered with silver trim and a stand-up collar, paired with a goose-yellow light silk skirt. Her hair was simply pinned up and bound with a white silk kerchief, most of it cascading down her back, jet black and lustrous.
Her beauty was peerless, her brows and eyes like poetry and painting. Her mere presence seemed to transform the stale, murky air of the cell into something fresh and clean.
"Qingyan..." Ding Songyan spoke her name.
This woman was clearly Ding Qingyan, yet she seemed to have aged several years overnight. Her features had fully matured, her figure had grown graceful, retaining a maiden’s youthful freshness while carrying an alluring charm. She was breathtakingly beautiful, impossible to look away from.
In that instant, Ding Songyan caught a change of expression on Yan Changqing’s face in the corner of his vision.
In his memory, this old man was either calmly smiling or utterly unruffled. Rarely did he show any other emotion. But now, a barely concealed fear had surfaced.
"You..." Yan Changqing’s aged, hoarse voice rang out.
The woman’s beautiful eyes turned, and she smiled charmingly.
"Master, your disciple has come to rescue you."
...
Atop the tallest watchtower.
Zheng Zhuxi asked her mother with puzzlement, "Mother, who could the true mastermind be?
"Also, I asked you earlier. Besides moth-seeds and gu-sorcery, what other methods can make a person do things they don’t want to do or prevent them from saying what they wish to say? You never gave me an answer."
Tao Wenshu’s expression grew somewhat grave as she said, "I’d thought about it for a long time. Considering that the physical anomalies of Qiu Chen, Li Zhi, and Qi Xiaoxiang have been concealed, I believe the most likely explanation is: Sutra of Celestial Heart Wisdom."
