45: Chapter 45 Northern Yan Warriors

On the third night in Ding Prefecture, Jiang Yan crouched on the roof of an old residence's study, holding up several pieces of raw spirit jade he had just scavenged from a secret chamber to examine them in the moonlight.

The quality was mediocre.

It was a cut below the batch he had obtained in Yu Prefecture; there were too many Impurities, and the Spiritual Qi content was sparse.

It would be fine if ground into powder to fill a Formation Plate, but it was barely passable for Artifact Refining.

He tossed the spirit jade into his Storage Pouch and pulled the century-old Spirit Medicine he had found last night at the Minister of Revenue's house from his sleeve to take a look—the root was intact, but the medicinal fragrance at the cross-section was too faint, indicating much of its medicinal power had dissipated.

He wondered how long it had been sitting in that secret compartment.

Better than nothing.

He stowed the Spirit Medicine away as well, leaped down from the roof, and planned to head to Yun Prefecture tonight.

Ding Prefecture had plenty of mines, but the truly good things had long since been dug out.

He had ransacked the mansions of several high-ranking officials; their secret chambers were built to be increasingly grand, but they were filled with nothing more than gold, silver, and calligraphy paintings, and he couldn't even find a decent piece of spiritual material.

Before dawn, he left Ding Prefecture city and flew northeast along the official road and mountain forests.

The late autumn night wind poured down from the mountains, causing the withered grass by the roadside to rustle.

By the Chou hour, he had entered the territory of Yun Prefecture.

Yun Prefecture was a prefecture of moderate size; its city walls were a cut lower than those of Ding Prefecture, and the gate guards were lazier than the bunch in Pingjiang Commandery, leaning against the city walls and dozing off, with drool stretching into a glistening line from their mouths.

When Jiang Yan entered the city, the soldiers did not even lift their eyelids.

The residence of Vice Prefect Sun Mingyi was in the east of the city, a three-courtyard complex; its facade was not particularly grand, but the courtyard walls were more than three feet higher than those of ordinary official residences.

Jiang Yan had originally intended to do as usual—scale the wall, search the secret chamber, and leave.

He made not a sound when he vaulted onto the wall, crouching on the top and wrapping his cloak tightly around himself, intending to first scan the layout of the residence with his Divine Sense.

Then, his movements froze.

The window of the study in the third courtyard was glowing with lamplight.

He looked up at the sky—the moon had already shifted west, it was roughly the third quarter of the Chou hour.

In the dead of night, the study's light was still on.

Not normal.

Jiang Yan lowered his body, moving silently along the wall, and finally stopped in the shadow of the eaves of the third courtyard.

He condensed his Divine Sense into a single line, piercing through the window lattice of the study to peer inside.

There were two people sitting in the study.

One was dressed in a vermilion official robe with a golden pheasant rank badge embroidered on the chest, his face thin and gaunt, sporting a three-strand long beard; it must be the Yun Prefecture Vice Prefect, Sun Mingyi.

Sun Mingyi sat on a grand armchair, his back straight, but his fingers kept tapping lightly on the armrest, the frequency of the tapping rapid and devoid of rhythm.

The other person sat on a round-backed armchair opposite him, burly in build, wearing an inconspicuous gray cloth tunic, but his shoulders and back were extremely broad; as he rested his arms on the armrests, his large-knuckled palms hung naturally by the sides of the chair.

An old scar on his face stretched from his left brow bone down to the corner of his mouth, splitting his left eyebrow in two, yet his right eye was as sharp as a hawk's.

When Jiang Yan's Divine Sense swept over that person, he captured a strand of concentrated and unyielding Innate True Qi.

It was not just Innate.

The True Qi circulated within his Meridians at an extremely high speed, with faint signs of condensing into a protective barrier—this was Middle Stage Innate, stronger than both Deputy General Zhao Kui and Deputy General Liu Qi, and although far inferior to General Jiang Ce, among Mortal Martial Artists, it was already one in a million.

In the middle of the night, an Innate Martial Artist was sitting in the Yun Prefecture Vice Prefect's study.

Jiang Yan did not act immediately.

He hid his form completely in the shadow of the eaves, locking his Divine Sense onto the two people inside the study, not moving a muscle.

Sun Mingyi spoke first.

His voice was kept very low, but his tone was laced with irrepressible nervousness: "General Tuoba, you have already stayed in the Jin Kingdom for over ten days; the arrangements here in Yun Prefecture should have a definite answer by now."

Tuoba Lie picked up the teacup on the table and took a sip; when he set it down, his fingers rubbed the rim of the cup twice.

"What's the rush?"

His Jin Kingdom language was somewhat stiff, carrying a distinct Northern Yan accent with heavy guttural sounds, "Are all you Jin Kingdom officials so impatient?"

"Impatient?"

Sun Mingyi's voice suddenly rose by half a degree, then immediately lowered back down, his fingers tapping even more urgently on the armrest.

"General Jiang Ce is dead—General Jiang Ce is dead! This is a god-given opportunity.

But you all have been dragging your feet on a definite answer, so how am I supposed to explain it to the people in the city?

What they want is a specific date, not 'wait for news'."

Slap.

The sound of Tuoba Lie's palm striking the tabletop was dull and heavy, shaking the teacup so it jumped, splashing a few drops of tea from the rim onto the table.

Sun Mingyi's fingers stopped abruptly, remaining motionless on the armrest.

"A god-given opportunity?"

Tuoba Lie's voice was even lower than his, "General Jiang Ce is indeed dead.

But do you know how he died?"

"Wasn't it by someone in the mansion—"

"No."

Tuoba Lie interrupted him, poking the table with a thick finger, "I sent men to scout in Pingjiang Commandery.

The courtyard of the Generals Mansion was covered in traces of Spells, the blade marks on the walls had scorched the blue bricks into glass, and the stones on the rockery were burnt until they shattered.

General Jiang Ce joined forces with two Early Stage Innate deputy generals, and they didn't even last the time it takes to drink a cup of tea."

Sun Mingyi did not speak.

The study was quiet for a long while; from afar came the sound of the watchman beating his clapper, du-du-du, drifting past the alley entrance, beat by beat.

Tuoba Lie continued, his voice like iron rubbing against iron: "Your Jin Kingdom's Immortal Masters have already gone to investigate.

Two of them, flying from the capital, have been searching in Qing Prefecture for over ten days."

Sun Mingyi took a deep breath, his neatly groomed long beard trembling slightly on his chin.

"Then what about your Northern Yan Immortal Masters—"

"The Immortal Masters of the Taixuan Sect will not fear those of the Jinyang Sect."

Tuoba Lie leaned back against the round-backed armchair, crossing his large knuckles over his abdomen, "Behind our Great Yan stands the Taixuan Sect, which has several Golden Core Immortal Masters.

If the Jinyang Sect dares to intervene in the war, the Taixuan Sect's Immortal Masters will not sit idly by."

Jiang Yan, crouching in the shadow of the eaves, felt his gaze shift when he heard the three words "Taixuan Sect".

The Taixuan Sect.

The cultivation Sect behind the Northern Yan Kingdom.

Tuoba Lie continued speaking, his tone carrying a bit of self-satisfaction: "The Taixuan Sect behind our Great Yan is no less powerful than the Jinyang Sect.

Over these years, the two Sects have been fighting over Spirit Medicine and mines in those mountains on the border, and the Jinyang Sect has suffered quite a few losses."

Upon hearing this, the tense lines on Sun Mingyi's face relaxed slightly; he picked up the teacup in front of him and gulped down a mouthful, but he did it too hastily, and a couple of drops of tea trickled down his neatly trimmed beard.

He set down the cup, wiped his chin with his sleeve, and was just about to speak—

The door of the study was blasted open with a single palm strike.

The door bolt snapped in two with a crack, and wood shavings sprayed outward.

Jiang Yan stepped over the threshold, his cloak whipping behind him.

Sun Mingyi jumped up from the grand armchair almost instantly.

The movement was so fast that his knees knocked the study desk in front of him askew, and the Duan inkstone on the desk wobbled, nearly sliding off.

He reached out to draw the sword hanging on the wall, but just as his fingers touched the hilt, a dark gold streak of Spiritual Qi struck his wrist bone, emitting a very crisp crack.

Sun Mingyi let out a miserable shriek, his entire right arm hanging limply, and he retreated two steps before collapsing into the corner of the wall.