Is it to let Xiao Wanjun practice martial arts and have the ability to protect herself?
Now why did Xiao Wanjun gift the secret manual to me?
"Could it be that Xiao Wanjun didn't realize the value of the manual and I just happened to pick up a huge bargain?"
Zhao Wujiang's heart skipped a beat as he closed the manual.
No matter what, I will practice it first and figure it out later.
Xiao Yuanshan would never harm his own daughter, so this manual must be fine.
"This must be a martial arts manual from the jianghu, right? You are so engrossed in it, does it actually do anything?" the Empress asked in confusion.
Zhao Wujiang tapped his finger lightly on the manual and said with a solemn expression:
"This martial art makes you hard!"
"Where does it get hard?"
The Empress blurted out. The moment she said it, she regretted it in her heart. In her mind, she pictured the iron-hard, heroic posture of Zhao Wujiang when he favored Dugu Ming and the others, and her cheeks instantly burned with fever.
Zhao Wujiang wore a wicked smile: "Just what you're thinking..."
"What do you mean by what I'm thinking... I wasn't thinking anything!" the Empress said, embarrassed and annoyed.
"Ah? You mean you weren't thinking about having a hard heart?" Zhao Wujiang teased.
"I am not going to talk nonsense with you, I still have memorials to process!"
Just as her voice fell, Little Liuzi, who delivered the tally tablets, arrived once again. "This slave greets Your Majesty. Which consort's tally tablet shall Your Majesty flip tonight?"
***
Chapter 43: Revisit the Old Haunts
"Which consort's tally tablet shall Your Majesty flip tonight?"
Little Liuzi lowered his head and said helplessly.
He had been forced to come by a crowd of officials.
The officials' meaning was crystal clear: the Emperor hadn't flipped a tally tablet for a whole day, and it was high time she did; not even the donkeys in the production brigades were made to rest like this.
Xuanyuan Jing gently nudged Zhao Wujiang.
Zhao Wujiang gave a dry cough and whispered in her ear: "As the saying goes, those who eat others' food are short of mouth, and those who take others' things are soft-handed..."
When Xuanyuan Jing saw the manual in his hand, understanding dawned on her.
"Summon Xiao Wanjun."
Little Liuzi was overjoyed. "Understood! This slave will go invite Consort Xiao right away."
Inside the bedchamber.
Consort Xiao leaned against him like a concubine holding a lute, letting him pluck the strings of court music as he pleased. Zhao Wujiang supported her waist and thrust upward, panting heavily.
The concubine let out a soft moan as her heart stirred:
*A night of passion thick as wine,*
*Fragrant sweat staining her delicate charm, seeping through time and again.*
*The luan and phoenix exhausted and lazy, twin brows coquettish and soft,*
*Even with painting, it would be hard to capture.*
*Ask why she is so deeply affectionate toward him?*
*Dew on the plum blossom's calyx, rogue rouge on sandalwood lips.*
*From this day on, her slender waist will waste away for her lord.*
On the bed, Xiao Wanjun and Zhao Wujiang lost all awareness of heaven and earth. After a full three hours, accompanied by a crisp, phoenix-like cry, Zhao Wujiang stepped down from the bed, pointing his sword at Xuanyuan Jing.
"Help me probe out the origins of this manual," Zhao Wujiang said softly.
Xuanyuan Jing tried hard not to look at Little Zhao Wujiang. "I know, but can you finish faster next time?"
Seeing that Xiao Wanjun had long since fallen sound asleep from exhaustion, Xuanyuan Jing pointed out the window—daybreak was almost upon them.
"I'll ask tomorrow."
Zhao Wujiang nodded noncommittally, went into the side room, and began studying the Indestructible Vajra Divine Skill.
The next day.
Xuanyuan Jing had already probed out the origins of the manual Zhao Wujiang possessed.
The manual had been left with Xiao Wanjun by Xiao Yuanshan, who at the same time instructed her that she could practice it. However, living deep within the palace for so long, Xiao Wanjun had assumed these martial arts manuals were merely practiced by rough and vulgar men of the jianghu, so she had barely glanced at it, let alone taken it to heart.
And thus, Zhao Wujiang had managed to pick up a bargain.
After Xiao Wanjun left, Xuanyuan Jing wanted to tell Zhao Wujiang, only to find that he was not in the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
The only thing left on the table was a note:
[I am going to the Imperial Hospital]
So early, is he going to resell medical herbs again?
The Empress sighed inwardly, while a hidden wave of anxiety arose within her, worrying that Zhao Wujiang would be discovered and that his enemies would plot against him.
"Jia Ersan."
"This slave is here."
"Protect Grand Eunuch Zhao closely. If Grand Eunuch Zhao is injured, you are injured; if Grand Eunuch Zhao dies, you die."
A chill ran down Jia Ersan's back. "Understood!"
***
Imperial Hospital.
Zhao Wujiang randomly inspected the batches of medicinal herbs.
After only a day or two, he never expected that the Imperial Hospital would actually start reselling medicinal herbs once more.
Did something happen, or was something about to happen? Zhao Wujiang rubbed his fingers, sniffing around. Not only did he smell the rich aroma of medicine, but he also sensed an undercurrent of crisis.
"Grand Eunuch Zhao, you inspected everything that day. They are the exact same herbs, there's no need to inspect them again," said Wang Youcai, the warehouse keeper, in a deep voice.
Unlike last time, his attitude this time clearly carried a trace of mockery.
Zhao Wujiang naturally caught it. He smiled faintly, waved his hand, and signaled that they could set off.
The carriage wheels rumbled over the bluestone slabs of the palace pathway, and Zhao Wujiang leisurely followed behind the convoy.
Recently, the Court of State Ceremonial, the Ministry of Rites, and the Ministry of Revenue were busy preparing for the wedding between the Emperor and Princess Baiyue, drawing the court's attention toward the ceremony and leaving fewer people to pay attention to other matters. This must be one of the reasons why the Imperial Hospital had been reselling herbs so frequently of late... Zhao Wujiang's eyes flickered.
Or could it be that there was some major event about to take place that he was unaware of?
He rubbed his fingers as thoughts raced through his mind.
Wang Youcai of the Imperial Hospital walked alongside Zhao Wujiang, sneering inwardly. Today, no matter what, he would not let Zhao Wujiang pocket any more medicinal herbs.
He no longer feared offending Zhao Wujiang.
Once Zhao Wujiang had waded in the same murky waters with them that one time, the nature of many things changed. Even if he offended Zhao Wujiang now, as long as he wasn't too excessive, Zhao Wujiang wouldn't dare say a word. He would neither dare reveal it to the Emperor nor dare cross the Imperial Hospital.
Wang Youcai had long since found Zhao Wujiang an eyesore. How could someone so young become the Grand Eunuch simply because of who he was? Having already obtained thirty percent of the profits, why did he still want to greedily grab even more?
Of course, the jealousy and resentment he harbored most in his heart was: why wasn't he Zhao Wujiang?
The herb-transporting convoy marched out of the Imperial City. Wang Youcai stopped Zhao Wujiang and tossed him a pouch of silver:
"Grand Eunuch Zhao, let's stop here."
Zhao Wujiang weighed the pouch in his hand, watched the convoy move further and further away, and smiled:
"Warehouse Keeper Wang, the quantity isn't right..."
*Hmph, I'm the one transporting it too, so this thirty percent profit should have a share for me as well. Even if I pocketed the whole lot, what could you do about it? You're nothing more than a little eunuch...* Wang Youcai let out a cold laugh:
"You do as much work as you get paid for. There's no procurement today, and this pouch of silver is already quite generous.
Remember to make the water flow slowly and steadily, Grand Eunuch Zhao, understand?"
"You took it?" Zhao Wujiang's eyes grew slightly cold.
Wang Youcai patted Zhao Wujiang's shoulder, his tone threatening:
"Don't go talking nonsense, Grand Eunuch Zhao. This is outside the palace; your status as Grand Eunuch doesn't work here anymore..."
"That's right, this is outside the palace," Zhao Wujiang's gaze turned as sharp as a blade:
"Ersan!"
***
Chapter 44: Selling a Sword to Bury One's Mother
"Ersan!"
"Hehe, Ersan points? What kind of division is that? You and I should at least do a two-eight split—you get two, and I get eight!" Wang Youcai's eyes filled with greed as he sneered incessantly. A gentle breeze brushed past his body, condensing into an aged figure right behind him.
Zhao Wujiang rubbed his fingers: "Kill him."
Wang Youcai's brow furrowed. Suddenly, he heard a loud, cracking sound, seemingly originating from his own neck. Then, he saw Zhao Wujiang's figure tilting as the world turned upside down.
"Bang!"
He crashed heavily onto the ground, and warm, foul-smelling blood continuously gushed from his nose and mouth, pooling beneath him into a pool of crimson.
Only on the verge of death did he realize that there were some people he simply could not afford to offend.
***
A gentle breeze stirred up the scent of blood, drifting into the distance. Zhao Wujiang and Jia Ersan followed far behind the convoy.
He needed to find out where this batch of goods was heading.
He still remembered clearly what Wang Youcai had said right before he died.
Among those words, he had noted a key point: there was no procurement today.
Without procurement to cover it up, and happening this early, it proved that this batch of medicinal herbs was urgent.
They had already transported a batch two days ago, and combined with this batch, plus whatever might have been stockpiled previously, this quantity was far from simple...
Zhao Wujiang rubbed his fingers, his eyes narrowing slightly. Just how many Loulan Gu-worms could this be used to help cultivate?
Was the person behind the scenes finally going to show their hand?
Or was there some other conspiracy at play?
Dark clouds gathered in Zhao Wujiang's mind. He and Jia Ersan trailed far behind the herb-transporting carriages, winding through streets and alleys until they gradually reached the docks.
At the founding of the Daxia dynasty, a canal had once been constructed.
The canal meandered from north to south, and the prefectures and counties it passed through all established docks, making them prosperous hubs for water transport.
The Jingdu dock was also one of the largest canal docks in Daxia.
When Zhao Wujiang arrived, the surroundings were bustling with people coming and going, a noisy and clamorous scene of coolies unloading cargo from the boats and loading it onto horse-drawn and donkey-drawn carriages to be transported to the Eastern and Western Markets of Jingdu.
He watched the herb-transporting team pass through the crowd, followed closely by a group of minor officials in official robes who rushed out to help with the unloading, transferring the herbs onto a boat.
"My lord, minor officials of the Ministry of Revenue," Jia Ersan said in a deep voice. At the moment, he looked like a kind-eyed old man, resembling a quiet, elderly servant standing faithfully by Zhao Wujiang's side.
The Imperial Hospital, the Ministry of Revenue... who else was involved?
Zhao Wujiang's sword-like brows furrowed deeper and deeper:
"Let's go, Ersan, time to head back."
"My lord, should this old servant go investigate?" Jia Ersan bowed slightly.
Zhao Wujiang shook his head. Tracking it this far was enough. With the Imperial Hospital and the Ministry of Revenue involved—and perhaps even more departments—a moment's thought made it clear that behind the scenes stood either a single person or a group of people he absolutely could not afford to provoke at present.
Many things could only be investigated slowly in secret, not out in the open.
***
Zhao Wujiang and Jia Ersan arrived at the Eastern Market. During the time he had spent in Jingdu, he hadn't yet properly taken in the prosperity of Daxia's capital.
The Eastern Market was lined with shops, flowing with rare treasures and all sorts of general merchandise shipped in from elsewhere. Merchants and travelers bustled back and forth, their cries and haggling voices rising and falling in waves.
Zhao Wujiang threaded through the crowd with great interest. Dressed in ink-black robes with his hands clasped behind his back, he strolled along at a leisurely pace.
Jia Ersan, looking benevolent, followed half a step behind Zhao Wujiang, also observing the passing pedestrians and the shops lining the streets. Having served loyally for most of his life, he rarely had moments of such relaxation.
"Make your move then!"
An angry shout rang out, piercing clearly through the noisy and bustling Eastern Market.
Zhao Wujiang saw a crowd gathered ahead, discussing something. That angry shout had come from the center of the encirclement, so he quickened his pace and walked over.
Acting as a curious onlooker, Zhao Wujiang squeezed through the crowd, his pupils constricting slightly. Right before him, an arrogant young man clad in luxurious, brocaded robes was using the scabbard of a sword to slap the face of a swordsman.
Behind the flashily-dressed young man stood two solidly-built servants.
And behind the swordsman lay a thin wooden board with four large characters written on it: "Selling a sword to bury one's mother."
The swordsman had ordinary looks. At this moment, his left cheek was swollen and red, and a trace of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. In his eyes, murderous intent and forced endurance flickered back and forth. Facing the provocation of the wealthy young dandy before him, he simply repeated that same sentence he had uttered who knows how many times:
"This sword, fifty taels."
"Li Yuanzheng, hit me, your young master! I'll give you a hundred taels! Come on!" Mockery filled the eyes of the brocade-clad youth as his scabbard continued to slap the swordsman's face:
"Hit me! What's the matter? Too chicken to do it?"
The clamor and discussions among the crowd grew even more intense. Jia Ersan also squeezed through the throng and arrived at Zhao Wujiang's side.
Through the discussions of the onlookers, Zhao Wujiang roughly gathered the sequence of events.
The flashily-dressed youth was named Liu Mang. His family ran a silk business in Jingdu and was fabulously wealthy. At the same time, Liu Mang's uncle held a prominent post at court, making the Liu family quite wealthy and influential.
As for the swordsman whose face was being slapped, his name was Li Yuanzheng. He lived on the outskirts of Jingdu and came from a relatively poor background.
Li Yuanzheng's father had died early, and his mother had painstakingly raised him and his two younger siblings. After reaching adulthood, Li Yuanzheng began wandering the jianghu, making a living as an armed escort.
Three days ago, his mother passed away. He returned home to mourn and wanted to bury his mother, only to run into Liu Mang—who had long coveted his younger sister's beauty—trying to take advantage of the situation to bully her. Having spent years wandering the jianghu, he beat Liu Mang black and blue on the spot and chased him off, thereby forging a bitter enmity.
The Liu family was powerful; they pulled strings to prevent Li Yuanzheng's mother from being buried in Jingdu and kept sending people to harass them.
Though Li Yuanzheng possessed martial arts cultivation, he was no match for the sheer numbers of the Liu family. Driven to his wits' end, he decided to sell his treasured sword in exchange for silver, both to take his mother away from Jingdu for burial outside the city and to support his younger siblings in the future.
Now, faced with Liu Mang's provocation and bullying, he could easily retaliate; but the thought of his younger siblings waiting at home made him swallow his anger, repeating only:
"This sword, fifty taels!"
***
Chapter 45: The Under-Heaven Sword Leaderboard
...
The crowd of onlookers continued to grow, and the noise grew louder.
"My lord, have you noticed anything unusual about this swordsman?"
Jia Ersan spoke in a gentle, benevolent tone, whispering into Zhao Wujiang's ear. Amidst the surrounding clamor, there was no need to worry about being overheard.
Zhao Wujiang raised his eyebrows and began to observe the swordsman named Li Yuanzheng.
Ordinary facial features, an aura of uprightness and pent-up gloom between his brows, dressed in grey hemp martial arts attire... Huh? The calluses on his hands actually had more on his left hand than his right—a left-handed swordsman!
"A left-handed swordsman, so what?" Zhao Wujiang asked in confusion.
Jia Ersan respectfully replied:
"My lord has a discerning eye. This old servant can sense a dense killing intent radiating from that sword, along with the auras of quite a few experts.
And since this person wields a sword with his left hand, if this old servant is not mistaken, he must be Li Zuo, the escort runner who ranks sixteenth on the Under-Heaven Sword Leaderboard!"
"Sixteenth on the Under-Heaven Sword Leaderboard, Li Zuo?" Zhao Wujiang frowned. This must be a matter concerning the jianghu.
"The Under-Heaven Sword Leaderboard is a ranking in the jianghu that lists all the sword masters under heaven. And Li Zuo ranks sixteenth on this sword leaderboard.
This old servant only ever heard that he was an escort runner surnamed Li who wielded a left-handed sword, which is why people in the jianghu call him 'Li Zuo the Escort Runner'."
A fighting spirit ignited in Jia Ersan's aged eyes, along with a trace of pity for Li Zuo. People of the jianghu lived for the moment, drinking wine today while they had it; yet now, this Li Zuo had fallen to such a destitute state.
"Ersan, are you on the leaderboard?"
Zhao Wujiang narrowed his eyes as the arrogant Liu Mang ahead began to shove Li Yuanzheng.
Jia Ersan shook his head slightly:
"This old servant does not use a sword!
However, quite a few of my old comrades are indeed on this sword leaderboard."
"Jia..." Zhao Wujiang muttered thoughtfully. Jia Ersan nodded; the old comrades he spoke of were practically all members of the Longyin Guard.
"Is the sixteenth rank strong or not?"
"Extremely strong."
Upon receiving Jia Ersan's affirmation, the corner of Zhao Wujiang's mouth curled upward as he looked forward.
A swordsman who was both strong and filial—that made things interesting.
A filial person generally didn't have too bad of a character.
"Move your hands then, your young master is talking to you." Liu Mang shoved Li Yuanzheng heavily once more: "Want to bury your mother? Sure, your young master will give you three choices.
Either you hit me, and I'll give you a hundred taels; or you crawl between my legs, and I'll give you a hundred taels.
Or, hehe..."
Liu Mang let out a lewd laugh:
"Or lend me your sister for a couple of days to play with... Hahaha..."
Li Yuanzheng's fists were clenched so tight they turned white, the anger raging endlessly in his heart. His eyes were bloodshot, yet he still held it back.
In this capital city, he was no match for the wealthy and powerful. He could instantly kill the dog-like scum in front of him, but that would undoubtedly bring catastrophic disaster upon his younger siblings.
Many among the onlookers were infuriated by Liu Mang's arrogant demeanor and wanted to speak out or even step in to help, but seeing the four burly guards standing by Liu Mang with hostile glares, they could only swallow their anger.
Liu Mang wasn't just Liu Mang; he had the entire Liu family behind him.
The restless stirring of the surrounding crowd did not escape Liu Mang's notice. Disdain and mockery filled his face:
"You lot want to hit your young master? Is that it? Come on, come on, come on..."
He beckoned to the onlookers:
"A bunch of common trash, and you still want to champion a righteous cause?
Come on, hit me!"
The very next instant, Zhao Wujiang, clad in ink-black robes, appeared right before him and landed a heavy punch squarely on his supremely arrogant face.
"Bang!"
Liu Mang's body spun a full circle in mid-air before crashing heavily onto the ground.
"Well hit!"
Seeing Zhao Wujiang step forward to give Liu Mang a punch, cheers erupted from the crowd of onlookers.
Liu Mang clutched his swollen cheek as blood continuously oozed from the corner of his mouth. Driven completely mad by fury—to think someone actually dared to hit him, and others were even cheering—shame and rage surged into his mind at once, and he roared:
"Break this brat's limbs for me! This young master is going to put him in a pig cage and sink him into a cesspool!"
The four Liu family servants drew their daggers and rushed toward Zhao Wujiang. The next moment, a sudden gust of wind swept across the ground, and with four consecutive "bang" sounds, four clouds of bloody mist burst forth. The servants' arms shattered as they staggered and collapsed onto the ground, shrieking in miserable agony.
Jia Ersan appeared before the crowd, his hair and beard fluttering in the wind:
"A pack of petty scoundrels, and you dare try to harm my young master?"
***
Chapter 46: The IOU
Eastern Market.
The onlookers all drew in a sharp breath of cold air, the miserable screams of the four Liu family servants echoing in their ears.
Who was this powerful old man? He was the servant of this black-robed man? And just what identity did this black-robed man possess?
Panic set in for Liu Mang. Zhao Wujiang punched him again and again, beating him until his face was bruised beyond recognition and the pain pierced straight to his bone marrow.
Arrogant though he was, he wasn't an idiot. In this situation, he wasn't going to fight head-on—he needed to run back and bring reinforcements!
*You scumbag, you're dead meat. This young master is going to fetch reinforcements, and then I'll crush you, crush you to death!* Spitting a mouthful of blood, Liu Mang pleaded for mercy:
"I was wrong, I was wrong! Spare me this time, have mercy on a great man!"
He wailed and begged incessantly.
Though Zhao Wujiang possessed superb medical skills, he was practically unversed in martial arts. After a dozen punches, his right hand was stained with blood—some of it his own, but the vast majority belonging to the Liu Mang before him.
He stopped punching and stood up: "Hand over the money!"
"I'll give it, I'll give it!" Liu Mang knelt on the ground, his face bruised and swollen, and tremblingly fished a stack of silver notes from his bosom, handing them over to Zhao Wujiang with both hands.
Zhao Wujiang rubbed his fingers and said in a deep voice:
"As you said, hitting you costs a hundred taels. I hit you thirteen times, which comes to a total of thirteen hundred taels!
My right hand was injured from hitting you, which requires two thousand seven hundred and fifty-eight taels, bringing the total to four thousand and fifty-eight taels!
I'll even round it down for you—let's call it a clean ten thousand taels! Do you admit it?"
"Ah?" Liu Mang dazedly raised his head. But upon meeting Zhao Wujiang's sharp gaze, he tremblingly nodded.
The crowd of onlookers fell into a dead silence, utterly stunned by the spectacle. They swallowed hard—what a vicious way to round down a sum! Having lived in the Eastern Market for all these years doing business or buying goods, this was the very first time they had ever witnessed such "rounding down."
Zhao Wujiang took the silver notes—a flat one thousand taels in total—and continued:
"You still owe me nine thousand taels!
Bring paper and a brush!"