14: Chapter 14: Zhou Muqing

On the same day, in another room in the back hall of the county government office, the atmosphere was completely different.

Qingyang County Magistrate Zhou Wenqing sat behind his desk.

He was fifty-three years old, the flesh on his face had begun to sag, and his eye bags were deep, like two semi-circular pouches hanging under his eyes.

The teacup in front of him had been knocked over. Tea spilled across the desk, soaking the open official documents.

The ink on the documents bled from the water, blurring several characters into a black smudge. He did not care.

"Investigate," Zhou Wenqing's voice squeezed out from between his teeth, "Investigate this clearly for me."

Standing before the desk was the county government head constable, Liu Hai.

He was in his early thirties, a Third-rate Martial Artist, and wielded a waist saber.

He kept his head lowered, both hands hanging by his sides, his fingers unconsciously gripping the seams of his trousers.

Zhou Wenqing was not a relative of Zhou Mubai. He had absolutely no connection to the Zhou Family in Qingshi Town.

But he could not afford to provoke the Zhou Family—or more accurately, he could not afford to provoke the woman the Zhou Family had married off.

Zhou Muqing. The primary wife of the Great General Protecting the Nation, General Jiang Ce.

What kind of person was General Jiang Ce? An Innate Grandmaster, holding command over one hundred thousand border troops.

Not to mention a lowly Qingyang County Magistrate like him, even the Prefecture Governor of the commandery city would have to lower his head and salute upon seeing General Jiang Ce.

Although Zhou Muqing had married out, she was still surnamed Zhou.

Such a major incident had occurred at the Zhou Family in Qingshi Town—the Zhou Residence had been broken into, guards had been killed and injured in droves, and Zhou Mubai had been killed—this news would sooner or later reach the commandery city, and reach the ears of Zhou Muqing.

When that time came, if Zhou Muqing whispered a few words in General Jiang Ce's ear, would he, Zhou Wenqing, still be able to continue as County Magistrate?

A layer of cold sweat broke out on Zhou Wenqing's back. The sweat soaked the inner lining of his official robes, sticking to his skin, cold and clammy.

"Who is the murderer, where did they come from, where did they go, and why did they target the Zhou Family—investigate everything clearly for me."

Liu Hai acknowledged the order and turned to leave.

But after investigating for three days, there were few clues.

The surviving guards of the Zhou Residence said the murderer was a youth.

He wore a green long robe, had a handsome face, very fair skin, and a saber tucked at his waist.

He fought his way in alone, from the outer courtyard to the inner courtyard, and no one could stop him.

The Gang members at the Green Wolf Gang headquarters said that the person who came that day was also a youth. Green long robe, handsome face, fought his way in alone, and took Gang Leader Liu Zhen away in his hand.

One Gang member remembered the youth's eyes—as black as a deep pool, and when he looked at people, he lacked the evasion and awkwardness that a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth should have. It was calm enough to make one's heart creep out.

The old man selling wontons opposite the Iron Blade Society headquarters said he saw a youth in a green robe drag Society Leader Wei Tiedao and the deputy society leader out.

Carrying one in each hand, like hauling two dead dogs.

The old man was so scared he hid behind the stove, crouching there for a long time until the footsteps had completely vanished before he dared to poke his head out.

Three clues pointed to the same person.

A seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth. Alone. He had wiped out two of the three major Gangs in Qingyang County, plus the Zhou Family.

After Liu Hai finished reporting all of this, he stood before the desk, waiting for Zhou Wenqing to speak.

Zhou Wenqing was silent for a long time. His fingers tapped on the desk, one after another, his nails clicking against the wood, making a thumping sound.

He stopped at the thirty-seventh tap.

"Draw his likeness and make prints," he said, "Distribute them to every city gate, every post station, and every inn. If this person is discovered, report it immediately. Do not attempt to make an arrest without authorization."

Liu Hai was stunned: "Sir, we aren't arresting him?"

Zhou Wenqing lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. That glance contained many things—irritation, helplessness, and a trace of indescribable fear.

"He wiped out two Gangs plus the Zhou Family by himself." Zhou Wenqing's voice was very soft, so soft it was like talking to himself, "Do you think the few Martial Artist constables in our county government office can catch him?"

Liu Hai swallowed hard. He didn't dare to speak again and turned to leave. As he walked out the door, his foot caught on the threshold, and he stumbled.

Zhou Wenqing leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He decided to make two sets of preparations.

On the surface, he would draw his likeness and make prints, putting on a show of doing his utmost to apprehend the suspect—so that if Zhou Muqing asked about it in the future, he would have an explanation.

In secret, he would remain still and absolutely not provoke that youth.

It would be best if that youth flew far away and never appeared in Qingyang County again.

…

The commandery city, Generals Mansion.

Zhou Muqing sat on the soft couch by the window, holding a letter in her hand.

The letter had been sent via express delivery from Qingyang County.

The wax seal on the envelope had already been torn open by her, the edges ragged.

The letter paper was very thin and trembled slightly between her fingers—not because her hand was shaking, but because of the wind blowing from outside the window.

She finished reading the last character and placed the letter paper on her lap.

Outside the window was an old locust tree. The locust flowers had already faded, leaving only a tree full of dark green leaves, shimmering with an oily sheen in the afternoon sunlight.

Cicadas were calling in the tree, their sounds coming in waves, annoying and vexing.

Zhou Muqing did not get up. She just sat there, her gaze falling on the letter paper on her lap, the expression on her face very calm.

As calm as a pool of stagnant water.

Thirty-seven years old. Well-maintained. Her skin was fair, her features delicate, and she bore a four or five-point resemblance to Zhou Mubai.

But she had one thing more than Zhou Mubai—the line of her jaw was very hard, and when her masseter muscles slightly bulged, that gentle face would reveal a hint of ruthlessness inconsistent with her status.

"Come here."

Her voice was not loud.

The door was pushed open from the outside, and a middle-aged woman dressed in black entered.

She was about forty, lean and thin, with extremely light footsteps, making not a sound as she stepped on the carpet.

"Madam."

Zhou Muqing handed her the letter.

The woman in black took the letter and read it from beginning to end. After reading it, she folded the letter and placed it back on the table.

"Although my older brother is a piece of trash," Zhou Muqing's voice was very faint, "he is, after all, my own brother."

The woman in black did not respond, waiting.

"Qingyang County has already drawn up a likeness of the murderer." Zhou Muqing picked up another piece of paper from the table—a wanted poster.

The youth in the portrait had handsome features and an indifferent gaze. The artist's skill was good, capturing seven or eight parts of the spirit of those eyes.

Zhou Muqing glanced at the portrait and handed the wanted poster to the woman in black.

"Find him."

The woman in black took the wanted poster.

"Bring him back." Zhou Muqing's voice paused for a moment, "I want him alive."

The woman in black folded the wanted poster and tucked it into her bosom.

When she turned to leave, her footsteps were as light as when she arrived, and the door closed silently behind her.

The room became quiet again.

The cicadas were still calling.

Zhou Muqing sat on the soft couch, her gaze falling back onto the letter.

The letter paper was blown by the wind on her lap, slightly lifting and falling, lifting and falling.

She suddenly reached out and tore the letter paper down the middle.

With a ripping sound. Then she folded it in half and tore it again. Rip. Rip.

Paper scraps drifted from her fingers, falling onto the soft couch, onto the carpet, and onto the hem of her moon-white skirt.

She tore it very slowly, each rip very neat, as if she were doing something that required patience.

After tearing it all up, she brushed the paper scraps from her hands and stood up.

Outside the window, the leaves of the old locust tree were flipped over by the wind, revealing their silvery-grey undersides.

…

When night fell, Jiang Yan opened his eyes.

His spiritual power had recovered by seventy percent. His Divine Sense was also much clearer, and his temples no longer throbbed.

The three disposable Magical Artifacts he had refined—the explosive flame bead, the cold jade arrow, and the protective jade pendant—were placed side by side on the ground in front of his knees.

The surfaces of the jade stones looked unchanged, still appearing gentle and harmless.

But Jiang Yan knew that their interiors were already completely different.

Within the veins of each piece of jade was filled with spiritual power compressed to its limit, like an iron ball filled with gunpowder, just waiting for the fuse to be lit.

He stowed the three jade artifacts into his bosom. The jade pressed against his chest, transmitting a slight chill through his clothing—one was warm, one was icy, and one was at a normal temperature.

The tactile sensations of the three jade stones were distinct against his chest, like carrying three different heartbeats.

Jiang Yan stood up and walked to the cave entrance.

Moonlight leaked in from the edge of the giant rock, casting a narrow band of light on the ground.

The stream was still flowing with a gurgling sound, the broken reflection of the moon floating on the water's surface, pulled by the current into strips of silvery-white light spots.

He pushed aside the hanging vines and stepped out of the cave entrance.

The Qingyang County town at the foot of the mountain shrank into a small black shadow in the moonlight. A few points of lamplight, like beans, flickered on and off in the darkness.

Zhou Mubai was dead. Steward Yuan Zhen and Wang Gang were also dead; the direct grievances had been cleared.

But behind Zhou Mubai was Zhou Muqing. Behind Zhou Muqing was General Jiang Ce.

Although he feared nothing, he would not be arrogant; he would prepare himself mentally for retaliation.

Jiang Yan's fingers unconsciously touched the cloth strip wrapped around the hilt of the saber at his waist.

The texture of the cloth strip was clearly discernible under his fingertips, circle after circle, wrapped very tightly.

He still needed to become stronger, so that he could scavenge enough resources to switch to a Righteous Path Cultivation Technique.

Qi Refining Stage 1 was just the beginning.

Jiang Yan withdrew his gaze and turned to walk back into the cave. The moonlight narrowed behind him, and the vines closed behind him.

The cave fell back into darkness. The Black-maned Horse stood in the corner, its eyes glowing with two faint points of light in the darkness.

It watched Jiang Yan walk back, snorted, and lowered its head to continue gnawing on the moss growing on the cave wall.

Jiang Yan sat back in his original position and took the fourth jade stone from his bosom.

Moonlight could not reach here. But the pale green color of the jade material itself seemed to faintly glow in the darkness, very faintly, like the little bit of fish-belly white on the eastern horizon before dawn.

He held the jade stone in his palm. He closed his eyes.