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Chapter 235: The Assessment at Li Huo Dao Academy
🕑 Added 2024-11-17 09:19:01 +0000 UTCOne of Zhao Xing’s myriad avatars escorted Zong Shichang onto the boat. He then glanced at the members of the Inspectorate.
Before coming here, he had reviewed the dossier and found that Zong Shichang had been detained under the charge of "dereliction of duty."
But who was Zhao Xing? With just one look, he could see there was something wrong with this.
As he arrived, he activated his Heavenly Eye technique and immediately spotted a low-ranking official outside the prison cell banging on the door with an iron rod, disturbing Zong Shichang's rest.
Instantly, anger surged within him.
Wang Shiyang, who accompanied him, also sensed something amiss and glared fiercely at He Xian.
Typically, an official charged with dereliction of duty could only be detained if the County Magistrate or He Xian, the Assistant Prefect, had approved it.
Wang Shiyang hadn’t sanctioned this, so it was obvious that He Xian was behind it.
In fact, Wang Shiyang didn’t even need to think twice because it was clear that Song Ji was He Xian's recommendation.
Realizing the trouble, He Xian hesitated, seemingly wanting to say something.
However, just as Zhao Xing finished escorting Zong Shichang, he exploded in fury on the spot.
"Lord Wang, may I ask a few questions?" Zhao Xing directed his gaze at Wang Shiyang.
"By all means, Marquis Yuanrang." Wang Shiyang replied. "Everyone else, leave."
As Wang Shiyang spoke, the other officials instinctively withdrew from the Inspector ate, leaving only the Inspectorate officers, He Xian, and Wang Shiyang himself.
Zhao Xing was angry, and Wang Shiyang was well aware that he had to let him vent it. Otherwise, he could forget about establishing any rapport with Zhao Xing.
"Where is Inspectorate Chief Song Ji?" Zhao Xing's tone was sharp.
Standing nearby, Song Ji’s face turned pale. Zhao Xing was not only calling him out by name but was also challenging him in front of so many officials and clerks from the Inspectorate, showing a complete disregard for his dignity.
But with Wang Shiyang not intervening and He Xian slightly shaking his head, Song Ji had no choice but to steel himself and step forward.
"How may I assist you, Marquis Yuanrang?" he asked with feigned composure.
“I hold the official rank of Upper Sixth Grade. You are Lower Sixth Grade. Why have you not paid your respects upon seeing your superior?”
A hint of irritation crossed Song Ji's mind, as he had planned only to give a symbolic bow.
But Zhao Xing's aura surged, an overwhelming pressure crashing down like a tidal wave, making Song Ji feel as if the sky itself was collapsing.
“Thud!” Song Ji involuntarily dropped to his knees.
If ever there was a case of lording authority over others, this was it!
Song Ji, as a lower-ranking official, was indeed expected to bow, though kneeling was optional. But Zhao Xing, seething with anger, forced him to his knees.
Song Ji struggled for a moment, yet found himself utterly powerless, unable to rise, leaving him utterly terrified.
Seeing that Wang Shiyang had no intention of stopping this, fear crept into Song Ji’s heart. He realized Zhao Xing’s influence was far stronger than the whispers he’d heard at gatherings.
Even Wang Shiyang seemed taken aback. This Marquis Yuanrang had an undeniable force to him. During the previous banquet, Zhao Xing had appeared mild-mannered, with no hint of the lethal aura he now emanated. Then again, Wang Shiyang reminded himself of Zhao Xing's military achievements, understanding that such ruthlessness was in line with his battlefield renown.
Zhao Xing was truly furious. At first, he believed that Zong Shichang’s crime of "dereliction of duty" involved mishandling flood control and had led to his detention. Given Zong Shichang’s temperament, Zhao Xing initially didn’t question it.
However, it was Wang Shiyang’s clerk who informed him of the real reason behind the arrest.
That damnable Song Ji had charged Zong Shichang with dereliction of duty for simply drinking on the job, keeping him locked up for seven days without proper rest, clearly a petty act of revenge!
Zong Shichang was no ordinary person; he was a close friend whom Zhao Xing entrusted to care for his family. Zong Shichang had taken good care of Zhao Zheng, Zhao Ruide, and Madam Cai, even securing Zhao Zheng’s admission to the county academy.
To allow such bullying against Zong Shichang was intolerable!
Looking at Song Ji kneeling before him, Zhao Xing grew angrier the more he thought about it.
Initially, he had planned to question him based on official protocol, but seeing that Song Ji was now too scared to even retort, Zhao Xing simply took matters into his own hands.
“You bastard!”
Zhao Xing kicked Song Ji square in the face.
With a sickening "crack," Song Ji’s nose was instantly broken.
“Bang, bang, bang, bang!” Zhao Xing, moving with the unrestrained fury of a street ruffian, began relentlessly kicking Song Ji.
Each kick avoided vital areas, ensuring no severe injuries, but every single blow inflicted excruciating pain.
"Ah! Ah! AHH!"
Song Ji, though a Sixth-Rank martial artist, couldn't help but cry out. Normally, even a fractured bone would hardly make him wince. But now, the pain was unbearable.
The Inspectorate's clerks and officials watched in horror, their skin crawling. One guard, Liu Silang, who had been assigned to disturb Zong Shichang’s sleep, nearly wet himself from fear.
He could see no end to this, and thought Zhao Xing might actually beat Song Ji to death.
After over a hundred kicks, Song Ji's face was severely swollen, and only then did Zhao Xing finally lift his head, his rage subsiding.
Casting a cold glance at Song Ji, he said, “If you’re dissatisfied, feel free to report me to the provincial capital.”
“D-Dare not…” Song Ji, now looking like a beaten pig, continued kneeling obediently.
Report? There wasn’t much he could report anyway. At most, he could claim for compensation.
And with Wang Shiyang's clear indifference, it was evident that no one would take his side.
Zhao Xing scanned the Inspectorate’s staff and didn’t bother to trouble Liu Silang further. He simply straightened his attire and said to Wang Shiyang, “Forgive my momentary lapse in conduct, my lord.”
To this, Wang Shiyang feigned surprise, replying, “What lapse? Did any of you see Marquis Yuanrang do anything?”
The other officials echoed, “No, we saw nothing.”
At that moment, He Xian also added, “Marquis Yuanrang merely came to inspect the Inspectorate and checked the prison’s protective formations.”
Wang Shiyang’s reaction gave Long Xiao a newfound perspective on civil officials.
In the military, if anyone dared harm his brothers, he’d be ready to draw his sword. But here, Wang Shiyang simply stood by, even indulging Zhao Xing’s actions.
Why? Because Song Ji wasn’t someone Wang Shiyang cared about.
In fact, Wang Shiyang had already reviewed the dossier. His clerk had given him the full rundown.
Song Ji had detained Zong Shichang under the charge of dereliction for drinking on duty, just as an act of personal vengeance.
Vengeance for what? Zong Shichang, while managing flood control in Nanliu County, had chosen to flood the fields of the Song family rather than let the floodwaters devastate the downstream populace.
But as the County Magistrate, Zong Shichang’s actions aligned with Wang Shiyang’s interests. A family like the Song family had the means to endure natural disasters. After the flood, they would lose only some wealth, but common people losing their homes led to death and disease…how could he ever hope for a promotion amidst that chaos?
Wang Shiyang, though pragmatic, was by no means a poor official. If he had to choose, he’d back Zong Shichang’s decision.
What’s more, Wang Shiyang found Song Ji increasingly repugnant.
A perfectly fine banquet had been marred by this disgrace, and the bad impression it left on Zhao Xing made Wang Shiyang want nothing more than to rid himself of Song Ji entirely.
“Zhao Xing, shall we take a walk elsewhere?” Wang Shiyang suggested.
“Certainly.” Zhao Xing followed Wang Shiyang, leaving the Inspectorate behind.
Trailing behind them, He Xian sighed, sensing this matter was far from over.
This might have been an outlet for frustration, but who could say how it would be resolved?
…
Indeed, the matter was not yet over. Though Zhao Xing had vented his anger, the resolution still required Zong Shichang’s input.
Zhao Xing, in his main form, accompanied Wang Shiyang in inspecting various county institutions, discussing his aspirations and goals.
Meanwhile, an avatar stayed aboard the flying boat with Zong Shichang.
“Shichang, the man who came with me is Marquis Yunxiao, Long Xiao. You’ve met him before, but perhaps you’re not acquainted.”
“As for Lord Chen, you know him well already, so there’s no need for introduction. Lord Chen is now Marquis Yuanzhen and holds the title of Upper Sixth Grade.”
“What?! That Westerner has been ennobled too?”
Zong Shichang, having just washed up, was still groggy and hadn’t noticed that Chen Shijie and Long Xiao had entered.
“Ahem…” Zhao Xing quickly reminded him.
“Oh, student…greetings to Lord…Lord Chen.” Zong Shichang hurriedly bowed.
“Am I not still that Westerner?” Chen Shijie chuckled, half-amused. “Don’t hold back, Young Master Zong.”
Zong Shichang wished he could dig a hole to hide in.
“Young man, that Song fellow was beaten to a pulp by Zhao Xing,” Long Xiao chimed in. “Does that make you feel better? If not, I can go give him another beating tomorrow.”
“Not enough!” Zong Shichang growled. “That bastard kept me locked up for seven days, not letting me sleep. One beating isn’t enough!”
“However, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Brother Long. My family can handle him. Paying some medical expenses is no issue!”
“Oh, no need to be modest,” Long Xiao said. “For an occasion like this, let me help out. As a sword cultivator, I can guarantee I’ll hit him with a hundred slashes, leaving him lightly wounded by the end.”
“Huh?” Zong Shichang was momentarily stunned.
“If you don’t feel satisfied, let Brother Long handle it,” Zhao Xing said. “I doubt anyone in your family could be as precise. They might go too far.”
While venting anger was acceptable, killing was off-limits. There were numerous ways to deal with the Song family.
“Okay, okay,” Zong Shichang replied, but he suddenly seemed confused.
He slapped his forehead. “Wait, how did you become a marquis? And how are you already at Upper Sixth Grade? It’s only been a few years!”
“And you said you beat him into a pig-headed mess? I recall that both the County Magistrate and the Assistant Prefect were present. Did you do this right in front of them? And they just… let it happen?”
Zong Shichang was full of questions, finally realizing what felt so odd.
Zhao Xing, Chen Shijie, and Long Xiao were all Sixth Grade officials, yet so was Song Ji. Would Wang Shiyang really tolerate this?
“Let's talk about it later. You haven’t slept for days, right? Get some rest first, and then we can discuss everything when you wake up,” Zhao Xing suggested with a laugh.
“All right.” Zong Shichang was indeed exhausted and quickly lay down, drifting into a deep sleep in no time.
…
Meanwhile, at the Song family estate in Nanyang County…
The Song family patriarch, Song Chengde, was lounging under a grapevine trellis, enjoying the shade while two maids massaged his legs and shoulders.
Song Chengde's ancestors had held Fourth Rank positions, but after two dynasties and several splits in the family, his generation was left with only a few connections to officials, two of whom were Fifth Rank relatives working outside the region.
Locally, the Song family’s only significant presence was Song Ji, a Sixth Rank Inspectorate Chief.
With years of flooding, the summers had become unbearably humid and stifling. Add to that a conflict with Zong Shichang, an insolent upstart who constantly found ways to trouble the Song family. Whether it was berating them outside the gates or wandering around the ancestral land of the Songs, he was always making trouble.
Now that Zong Shichang had been detained, Song Chengde finally felt he could have a few peaceful days.
“Master, someone from the Zong residence is here again,” the steward reported.
“I won’t see them!” Song Chengde scoffed. “That brat needs a lesson in humility! Still wet behind the ears, thinking he can lecture me. No amount of gifts will change my mind!”
“But Master, it’s different this time. Zong Shichang has been released, and Second Master Song was beaten into a pulp. The Zong family has come to settle accounts.”
“Zong Shichang was released, my brother was beaten, and the Zong family has the audacity to seek us out?” Song Chengde initially froze before scolding, “Nonsense! Are you drunk? Speaking absurdities in broad daylight!”
The steward, helpless, could only repeat his message several times.
Finally, Song Chengde believed him.
“One of Zong Shichang’s old classmates joined the military, and after four years, he’s now an Upper Sixth Grade official and even a marquis?”
“And they sent a Xia Guang Building Ship to escort him back, with Wang Shiyang currying favor with him? Just how powerful is his background?” Song Chengde gasped, chills running down his spine.
He quickly made up his mind. “Prepare the carriage at once!”
…
In an ordinary household without the ability to send messages through divination or by yin messengers, communication relied entirely on horses and carriages.
Song Chengde was in Nanliu County, so by the time he learned the news, inquired about Marquis Yuanrang’s situation, and then traveled to the county seat, it was already the seventh day since the incident.
And during those seven days, Sixth Grade Inspectorate Chief Song Ji had been beaten up every single day.
Long Xiao, with nothing better to do, would spend each morning with his mountain cat and Zong Shichang, ambushing Song Ji on his way to work.
After each beating, Song Ji, bruised and swollen, would still have to show up to work, forbidden to take any leave.
If he dared to request time off, the beatings would intensify.
On the eighth day, Long Xiao once again lay in wait on the road to the Inspectorate, catching Song Ji and delivering another thrashing.
An hour later, Song Ji, looking battered and in tatters, couldn’t help but ask, “Marquis Yunxiao, it’s the end of the day—are you still going to hit me?”
Long Xiao snorted, “You took leave yesterday, so yes, even after hours, you get a beating.”
Song Ji whimpered, “Yesterday was an official day off…”
Long Xiao glanced at Zong Shichang beside him, who clapped his hands and said, “It was indeed a rest day, but seeing how eager you were, I didn’t mention it.”
“Oh well, a beating is a beating,” Long Xiao shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything else to do.”
Song Ji: “…”
At this point, Song Ji wished his elder brother would hurry to the county seat to resolve this. The past few days had been absolute torture—worse than death.
…
On the eighth day, Song Chengde, head of the Song family, came to the county office to pay his respects to Zhao Xing.
“This humble commoner, Song Chengde, pays respects to Marquis Yuanrang, Marquis Yuanran, and Marquis Yunxiao.”
Song Chengde, without hesitation, knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed to the floor.
Despite his status as a nominal official, this was not the time to argue details.
“Why are you bowing to me?” Zhao Xing pointed at Zong Shichang beside him. “You didn’t offend me.”
Song Chengde turned to look at Zong Shichang and kowtowed. “Nephew…”
“Old dog! Who’s your nephew!” Zong Shichang roared, “Stop pretending we’re close!”
Helpless, Song Chengde prostrated himself again. “Lord Zong, I deeply apologize for any offense. Please, tell me how I might make amends and appease your anger.”
Clapping his hands, Zong Shichang said, “It’s simple. Promise me three things, and I’ll let this matter go.”
Song Chengde remained kneeling. “Please, enlighten me, Lord Zong.”
“First, cancel all high-interest loans your family extended to the villagers in Nanliu County. When the floods came, you heartlessly raised interest rates instead of aiding the people. Now, it’s time to return every last coin.”
“Second, any land you’ve bought at low prices should now be returned to its original owners. We’ll use the registry from three years ago as the standard, so that everyone’s property is restored. I’m giving you this chance to accumulate some merit.”
“Third, if I’m conducting any projects in Nanliu County, like building dikes or setting up formations, your family will contribute labor and funds as needed.”
“If I, as the Pinghuai Magistrate, decide to build a channel that goes right through your guest hall, you’d better demolish it without complaint. Do you understand?”
Zong Shichang glared at Song Chengde, his tone sharp. “Are these three demands acceptable to you?”
Song Chengde, still kneeling, had no choice. Although it was painful, he immediately agreed, “Yes, yes, I can do all of that.”
Internally, however, he felt a hint of contempt. Zong Shichang was neither asking for money nor benefits but was instead distributing everything to the common people. Had he lost his senses?
Zhao Xing, who had initially intended to stay silent, could read Song Chengde’s thoughts with his Heavenly Sight.
Breaking his silence, Zhao Xing added, “Have your brother voluntarily resign from the Inspectorate, and this matter will be resolved.”
“What?!” Song Chengde’s face fell. “Marquis Yuanrang, please, you can ask for money or treasures, and my family will gladly provide…”
Zhao Xing interrupted him. “You’ve been asking around for days now, so you must know my position. I’ll ask you this one thing.”
“Does your Song family have the means to withstand an investigation by the provincial Inspectorate?”
Song Chengde’s breath hitched.
An investigation from the provincial Inspectorate? That would be enough to ruin them, even if they had nothing to hide.
And the Song family was far from innocent. Though they hadn’t committed murder, their record was full of petty tyrannies and abuses.
Zhao Xing didn’t wish to interfere further. Over such a trivial matter, he had no intention of eradicating the Song family. Merely cutting off Song Ji’s official position would gradually weaken the family, leaving others to consume them in time.
Zhao Xing was selective with his influence; there was no need for him to take drastic action personally.
That is, if Song Chengde understood his place.
If he didn’t, Zhao Xing had no qualms about notifying the provincial Inspectorate and ending the Song family once and for all.
“If there’s no word from you by tomorrow, I’ll take it that you don’t wish to accept the dignity I’m offering your family.”
“If you choose disgrace, I’ll assist in making it so.”
“My words here are final. You may go now.”
With a flick of his wrist, Zhao Xing summoned a gust of wind, sending Song Chengde out through the gates.
Outside, Song Chengde stood pale-faced, filled with dread.
He dared not harbor even a sliver of resentment and quietly left, hurrying to inform his younger brother, Song Ji, of the final outcome.
To accept meant that the Song family could linger on for a few more decades, nurturing its members for future positions.
To reject would mean imminent ruin.
…
At dawn the next day, Song Ji arrived at the county office to submit his resignation, voluntarily relinquishing his post.
Since this was not a retirement by age, his honorary rank dropped, as did his cultivation level, settling at Eighth Rank.
By resigning voluntarily, he avoided the disgrace of being stripped of his title. Forced resignation would have entailed forfeiture of his cultivation, which would have left him with nothing.
Thus, the Song family took the dignity Zhao Xing offered, forsaking much of its interests in the county and retreating fully to their ancestral lands in Nanliu County, transforming from a prominent county family into a mere local clan.
“Within a century, the Song family has no hope of resurgence. People have fortune, and so do families.”
Standing on the city wall, Zhao Xing looked southward. There, a pillar of fortune’s light shrank rapidly.
With a calculating gaze, he deduced that the Song family would remain subdued for the next hundred years.
“With a single word, I have decided the fate of a family.”
“Who, then, can determine mine?”
Looking up at the sky, Zhao Xing collected his thoughts and, with the ceremonial officers and escort teams, set off.
He had spent seven days in the county seat, partly because of Zong Shichang’s matter but also because protocol demanded it.
Now, the journey to Gucheng was much shorter.
In less than two hours, Zhao Xing’s escort team of more than twenty flying boats arrived in Gucheng.
Gucheng’s County Magistrate had previously been Li Wenzheng, but he was transferred three years ago for his meritorious capture of Xuantian Sect followers.
The new magistrate was named Xu Donghui, holding the rank of Eighth Grade.
Xu Donghui led a delegation five miles outside the city to greet Zhao Xing.
As Zhao Xing disembarked, Xu Donghui led the greeting, bowing with hands clasped.
“Greetings to Marquis Yuanrang! Congratulations on your triumphant return!”
“Congratulations on your triumphant return, Marquis Yuanrang!”
Zhao Xing quickly disembarked from the flying boat, helping Xu Donghui to his feet.
"Please, Magistrate Xu, rise; there’s no need for such formalities."
Though Zhao Xing was speaking to Xu Donghui, his eyes scanned the officials present.
Xu Donghui, understanding his intentions, stepped aside and announced, “Lord Xue, please step forward.”
“No need,” Zhao Xing said, quickly weaving through the crowd until he reached Xue Wenzhong.
Xue Wenzhong still held the rank of Upper Ninth Grade, a position he had earned when he became the Head of the Shennong Division. In the four years since they had last met, he had visibly aged, with graying hair and more wrinkles marking his face. His promotion had barely extended his lifespan.
“Congratulations, Marquis Yuanrang.” Xue Wenzhong smiled warmly, intending to bow to Zhao Xing, but Zhao Xing quickly held him up. Xue’s voice was as clear as ever, despite his age.
“Teacher,” Zhao Xing said, holding Xue Wenzhong’s hands. “Your student has returned to see you.”
He did not kneel to Xue Wenzhong, as his own official rank was far above his teacher’s. A kneeling gesture would only shorten his teacher’s lifespan by implying subordination.
“Well, well.” Xue Wenzhong beamed, patting Zhao Xing’s hands. “I’m glad to see you back.”
“Ah, and Lord Chen has also returned,” Xue Wenzhong noted, noticing Chen Shijie’s presence.
“Yes, he’s returned as well.” Zhao Xing stepped aside to let Chen Shijie greet Xue Wenzhong.
“Old Shennong,” Chen Shijie said, stepping forward and shaking Xue’s hand, preventing him from bowing. “It’s been a long time. I hope you’re well.”
“Quite well, quite well,” Xue Wenzhong replied with a laugh. “Thanks to you, after you left, the head position opened up, allowing this old man to enjoy a bit of a promotion and a longer life.”
Xue chuckled. “You haven’t been demoted again, have you, coming back here to take my job?”
“Haha!” Chen Shijie laughed, and the surrounding officials joined in with chuckles. “Don’t worry, Old Shennong; I have no intention of taking over here again. Rest assured.”
“Good, good,” Xue Wenzhong said, his spirits lifted by the presence of his distinguished students and old friends.
“Marquis Yuanrang, Marquis Yuanzhen, Marquis Yunxiao, Old Shennong,” Xu Donghui announced with hands clasped, “shall we continue this conversation inside the city? I have prepared a modest feast in your honor.”
“Very well, teacher, let’s head into the city,” Zhao Xing said, linking his arm with Xue Wenzhong’s, as the delegation of officials followed them into Gucheng.
…
Outside the city, custom dictated that officials greeted the returning dignitary without their families, as it was considered an official affair. It wasn’t feasible, after all, to expect elderly family members to walk three miles out of the city just for a reunion.
However, once the officials and Zhao Xing reached the banquet hall, Zhao Xing’s family members — Zhao Ruide, Madam Cai, and Zhao Zheng — were present to greet him.
“Foster Father,” Zhao Xing said as he approached Zhao Ruide, kneeling down and bowing his head. “Your son has returned.”
Standing on the platform, Zhao Ruide’s voice boomed, “My son! Did you hold your own on the battlefield?”
“Military achievements of five hundred thousand!” “A hundred thousand merits! Truly commendable! Excellent!” Beside him, an official held a red platter with several cups of wine. Zhao Ruide picked one up, downed it in one gulp, and continued.
“You’ve achieved such glory, my son. What is your current rank?”
“Upper Sixth Grade!”
“Wonderful!” Zhao Ruide drank another cup.
“And what rewards did His Majesty bestow upon you for your accomplishments?”
“I was granted the title of marquis, with the honorific ‘Yuanrang!’”
“I received an estate of one hundred sixty-five thousand mu and a fiefdom of one thousand six hundred fifty households.”
“I was awarded a ‘Guardian Command’ staff, two Green-Eyed Dragon Lions, a Kirin flying boat, a pair of Jade Ruyi…honorary merit of the Tenth Grade!”
The hall grew silent, the only sound was Zhao Xing’s voice reporting to his father.
The spectators around them were filled with admiration and envy. This, indeed, was the pinnacle of a father’s pride.
After a few more rounds of drinks, Zhao Ruide, his forehead pulsing with excitement, raised the last large cup, inviting everyone present.
“My son is mighty! Let us all drink this cup with me in his honor!”
“Congratulations to Marquis Yuanrang!” The room erupted in cheers.
With this, the formalities of Zhao Xing’s triumphant return were completed, and the banquet began.
Xu Donghui had not only prepared a feast within the county hall but had also arranged for tables along several streets outside, creating a festive, communal banquet.
For Zhao Xing’s family and close friends, a private box had been reserved.
“Madam Cai, here’s the list of wealth and gifts I brought home.” Zhao Xing handed Madam Cai a thick stack of documents listing the properties and treasures he had acquired.
Madam Cai carefully wiped her hands and took the documents with a cautious but delighted expression.
“This… this is so much…”
“The family doesn’t need all this wealth,” Zhao Xing replied.
Having not seen Zhao Xing for four years, Madam Cai was both thrilled and apprehensive. In the past, she hadn’t been the most supportive of him, and she wondered if he still held a grudge.
Receiving such a substantial amount from Zhao Xing eased her concerns somewhat. Even if he scolded her now, it wouldn’t matter too much, considering the fortune he’d bestowed on the family.
Madam Cai quickly pulled Zhao Zheng forward. “Zheng’er, come greet your elder brother.”
Among Zhao Xing’s family, the one who had changed the most was Zhao Zheng.
Now thirteen years old, Zhao Zheng had been well-fed and cared for under Zong Shichang’s guidance. After four years of martial training, he stood tall at over 1.75 meters, his once frail frame now sturdy and strong. He was no longer the boy who couldn’t even shovel snow without help.
However, his demeanor showed some awkwardness and restraint, as he hadn’t seen Zhao Xing for years and felt a bit unfamiliar.
“Greetings, elder brother!”
Zhao Xing looked at the boy who had grown so much in his absence and couldn’t help feeling sentimental. This was no longer the mischievous child who used to set off firecrackers in other people’s privies.
“Come here,” Zhao Xing said, helping Zhao Zheng up with a pat on the shoulder. “We’re family; no need for formalities.”
“By the way, I thought you were training in martial arts. Why are you looking so pale?”
Zhao Zheng wiped his face sheepishly. “Mother insisted on powdering me. I told her you’d comment, but she didn’t listen.”
“Hey, stop that.” Madam Cai tapped his hand with a cloth, scolding, “You’re smudging everything! How will you meet the guests later?”
But it was too late. Zhao Zheng’s hurried attempts to wipe his face had left him looking like a little painted cat, with streaks of rouge and powder smeared together.
“Hahaha!” Zhao Ruide and Zhao Xing laughed openly at the sight.
“Mother! What am I supposed to do now?” Zhao Zheng, self-conscious at his age, was mortified.
“No need to worry. Let big brother clean you up.”
With a light movement of his fingers, Zhao Xing conjured a gentle stream of water, swirling around Zhao Zheng’s face to cleanse it thoroughly. A breeze followed, drying the damp spots in seconds and even giving his hair a quick touch-up.
With a snap, Zhao Xing created a water mirror in his palm, showing it to Zhao Zheng.
“See? Looking much better now, don’t you think?”
“Actually, yeah.” Zhao Zheng ran a hand across his now-fresh face.
“Hahaha!” His self-admiring gesture sparked another round of laughter.
“That’s it! I’m not sticking around with you guys; I’m going to the other room to eat!” Embarrassed, Zhao Zheng ran off to a side room to play with the family’s mountain cat, hiding from further teasing.
…
At the Zhao family home in Gucheng’s Anping Quarter…
“On the North Sea, an island forms. On the first day of winter, the water begins to freeze. Five days later, the sea turns to ice. Five days after that, a giant whale breaks through the ice and transforms into a mysterious bird. Blue birds enter the water and turn into purple serpents. Five more days, and the earth’s fire erupts from the depths of the sea.”
In his study, Zhao Xing was engrossed in the Geography of the Nine Provinces.
It was now the summer solstice of the 20th year of the Jingxin Era, and Zhao Xing had been back for a month.
In this time, his days were filled with meetings and social events. Finally, today, he had a moment to himself to read.
“They want me to go to the Eastern Sea. But where exactly? And what position?”
His official assignment hadn’t been finalized, so he was in a state of “awaiting transfer” — he held a title but no specific responsibilities.
“The Eastern Sea is vast, far larger than Pinghai Prefecture. Hopefully, I’ll be posted somewhere close to Princess You Ruo’s territory,” Zhao Xing mused.
He was still looking forward to the ten-thousand-year-old black tortoise shell that the old witch had promised him.
After reading for a while, Zhao Xing headed over to the Chen residence.
With a flash, Zhao Xing appeared at the entrance of Chen’s estate, where Chen Shijie and his wife, Gui Niang, were picking Heavenly Origin Pears from the pear orchard.
Dressed plainly, Chen Shijie looked more like a regular fruit farmer than a distinguished official.
“Lord Zhao.” Gui Niang noticed Zhao Xing’s arrival, wiping her hands to prepare to greet him.
“No need for formalities, Madam.” Zhao Xing smiled. “This isn’t my first visit. I’m just here to chat with old Chen.”
“Let me go make some tea for you.” Gui Niang set her basket aside and left.
“Can’t sit still, can you?” Chen Shijie continued clipping pears, unfazed.
Even though he could have used magic, he preferred manually snipping the branches with long-handled shears, standing on tiptoes.
A gentle breeze from Zhao Xing’s fingers nudged some out-of-reach pears down for him.
“Who asked you to interfere?” Chen Shijie tossed one of the pears at him. “I can do it myself, you know.”
“I have a bit of a compulsive tendency,” Zhao Xing chuckled. “Watching you struggling to reach was bothering me.”
“That just shows your inner state isn’t there yet,” Chen Shijie replied. “I haven’t used any spells for a whole month.”
“If you’re on break, why not truly rest?”
“True enough.” Zhao Xing decided to seal off his energy too, joining Chen Shijie in harvesting pears by hand.
“Where’s Long Xiao?”
“He’s off with Zong Shichang,” Chen Shijie replied. “Those two seem to get along well.”
“Probably because Long Xiao hadn’t experienced much of the world before,” Zhao Xing said. “Now he’s discovered a whole new side of life with Zong Shichang as his guide.”
“Ha! You talk as if you’re well-versed in that life yourself.” Chen Shijie laughed. “As far as I know, you’ve never even held a woman’s hand.”
“…”
…
While Zhao Xing remained single, Zong Shichang was soon to be married.
On the summer solstice of the 20th year of the Jingxin Era, Zong Shichang was engaged to Liu Muqing.
After years of courtship, he had finally won her heart.
In mid-July, Zhao Xing made a trip to Dong Lake, opening his Heavenly Eye to survey the area. However, he found no trace of the lingering spirits that had once granted him the Fourth Rank Dong Lake Pearl.
Later that month, he visited Xue Wenzhong’s residence, bringing with him a batch of life-extending treasures for the old Shennong. Though Zhao Xing had limited influence to alter Xue Wenzhong’s official status, he knew that the elderly Shennong hadn’t taken many longevity-boosting herbs over the years.
Gradually, with Zhao Xing's gifts, Xue Wenzhong’s complexion improved visibly, and he appeared more youthful and energetic.
Though he couldn’t change Xue Wenzhong’s position, Zhao Xing made efforts to establish better connections with officials across county, prefecture, and provincial levels. If an opportunity arose, he hoped he could help Xue gain a promotion to lengthen his lifespan further.
In early August, Zong Shichang and Liu Muqing held their wedding. Liu Muqing’s best friend, Lu Qian, also attended, though Zhao Xing had nearly forgotten about her. When they met again, he remembered how she had once shown interest in him. Now, with both of them focused on their own paths, they exchanged only a few casual words before parting.
By late August, Zhao Xing began discussing plans to relocate with his family.
“The court has awarded me land in the eastern part of Pinghai Prefecture—over 165,000 mu, along with a fief that provides a modest annual tax income. Of course, we won’t rely solely on taxes for our livelihood,” Zhao Xing explained, though he knew time was pressing.
He still needed to make a trip to Li Huo Dao Academy, and his leave was down to just over two months.
“Do we really have to move so far away?” Zhao Ruide was hesitant. Although officials commonly took their families along when stationed elsewhere, Zhao Ruide felt uncertain about leaving.
“It would be for the best,” Zhao Xing said. “Once the King of Liang rebels, the southern territories will be the first to suffer.”
Though Nanyang County might seem distant from any potential battle, high-grade military airships could cover the four or five thousand li between here and the battlefront in just a few hours.
Madam Cai wasn’t overly concerned, but she did worry about Zhao Zheng’s education. “He’s supposed to enter Nanyang Academy next year. If we move, what will happen to his place there?”
“Not to worry. I’ll arrange for him to attend the Bi Shui Dao Academy. It’s even better than here,” Zhao Xing assured her.
“How much better?”
“…”
Zhao Xing was momentarily baffled. Could it be that Madam Cai didn’t understand what “better” meant?
Zhao Ruide interjected, “Why bother asking for specifics? You wouldn’t understand it even if he explained.”
Madam Cai smiled awkwardly. “Well, I’ll go make dinner. You two can decide the details.”
“Is it really necessary to go?” Zhao Ruide remained apprehensive.
“It would be safest for us all to go together,” Zhao Xing advised. Though the county’s protective formations were strong, Nanyang County wasn’t a strategic location. Still, he felt more at ease taking his family with him, as Zhao Ruide and Madam Cai had no self-defense capabilities and were not officials themselves.
As for others, like Xue Wenzhong and Zong Shichang, he had separate arrangements for their safety.
“Let me think it over,” Zhao Ruide finally said.
“All right.”
…
By early September, Zhao Xing had most of his affairs in Gucheng settled.
Then, on September 10th, Zhao Ruide finally agreed to the move.
On the same day, Zhao Xing gathered Chen Shijie and Long Xiao at the Chen residence.
“It’s time for the three of us to go take the assessment at Li Huo Dao Academy,” Zhao Xing announced.
Chen Shijie and Long Xiao had also received transfer orders for positions in the Eastern Sea region, so the three of them had similar assignments.
The Eastern Sea was extremely far away. Situated on the western edge of Pinghai Prefecture, Nanyang County was well over three million li from the Eastern Sea. Without access to Li Huo Dao Academy’s transportation privileges, it would take nearly a month to make the journey by standard Seventh Rank airship.
“We need the academy’s transit privileges if we’re going to make trips back and forth efficiently,” Zhao Xing explained.
“I’m ready to go. I plan on taking Gui Niang along, so I have no problems with this,” Chen Shijie replied.
“I’m good too,” Long Xiao added. “No family ties here to keep me, so I’m free to go anytime.”
“Not so sure about that,” Chen Shijie gave him a sidelong look. “What about the young ladies of Huixiang Tower? Aren’t they your ‘attachments’?”
“What are you saying?” Long Xiao’s face flushed. “I only go there to listen to music! Nothing more.”
“Right, right.”
“…”
“Enough joking,” Zhao Xing cut in. “Back to business. Our official orders are set to come through around the end of September or early October. The military will give us a month for travel.”
“So we’ll need to complete the assessment by early October. If we don’t pass, we’ll have to resort to conventional air travel.”
“With the pass, we can also extend our stay a little before leaving.”
“When should we head out?” Chen Shijie asked.
“Today is September 10th. Let’s plan to depart in five days,” Zhao Xing said. “Once we’ve completed the assessment, we’ll come back to prepare our families.”
Long Xiao scratched his head. “Which level are we aiming for? I’ve forgotten.”
“We’re aiming for the honorary title of Dao Instructor,” Zhao Xing replied. “With this, we’ll have three transit passes per year, sufficient for handling private matters. Official missions don’t count against this allowance.”
“If we achieve the level of Instructor, we’ll gain unrestricted access to the Li Huo Divine Platform for all personal and official travel.”
“Instructor level is on par with an inner disciple or a guardian in the ancient sects.”
“As for ‘Master’ or ‘Vice Dean’ ranks, they are reserved for individuals who have made significant contributions to the academy and hold long-standing roles.”
“Our goal is an honorary Dao Instructor title, which also allows us to bring a few family members with us,” Zhao Xing concluded.
“Is the exam tough?” Long Xiao asked, uneasy. “I hate tests.”
“The Hundred Arts Instructor title isn’t too hard,” Chen Shijie explained. “It’s primarily for teaching roles at the academy, and while a broad knowledge base is required, deep expertise isn’t necessary.”
“An honorary Hundred Arts Instructor title still requires the candidate to create a unique technique, though the difficulty is reduced.”
“To earn a Dao Instructor title, however, requires a unique insight into the Dao, and candidates must create a technique that allows others to reach advanced levels in cultivation,” Chen Shijie continued.
“This is challenging,” he added. “As they say, ‘those who imitate me thrive; those who resemble me perish.’ Many people’s personal techniques are only effective in their hands, producing far less impact when copied by others.”
“Exactly,” Zhao Xing agreed. “The requirements for an honorary Dao Instructor are quite stringent. We’ll need to leave something truly valuable at the academy.”
Gaining privileges at the academy was, in essence, a trade-off: either you contributed as a teacher or left behind a potent technique for future generations.
For the higher ranks of Master and Vice Dean, significant contributions to Li Huo Dao Academy were essential.
But for now, Zhao Xing, Chen Shijie, and Long Xiao’s objective was simply the honorary title of Dao Instructor.
Long Xiao nodded. “Got it. I’ll go prepare.”
“Let’s plan to meet five days from now, at the hour of the dragon,” Zhao Xing said.
“Understood.”
…
Five days later, at the hour of the dragon, Zhao Xing, Chen Shijie, and Long Xiao set off on their flying boat toward Nanyang County.
Upon reaching Nanyang County, they transferred to an academy-operated airship and headed for Dayuan Prefecture, home to a branch of Li Huo Dao Academy.
Upon arrival, Zhao Xing provided some context for his companions. “The Dayuan Prefecture branch is managed by Ji Qingshan, a royal family member, and the emperor’s grandnephew. He’s two hundred and one years old and at the Third Rank.”
“What’s his relationship with Prince Liang?” Long Xiao asked. “Do you think he’d give us a hard time?”
Zhao Xing shook his head. “No idea, but it’s unlikely.”
In his previous life, when Prince Liang’s rebellion took place, Zhao Xing had never heard of Ji Qingshan as a significant player. It seemed unlikely that someone of Ji’s status would be swayed.
And with Chen Shijie’s connection to Yang An, who had an acquaintance among the Dao Masters here, they had a reliable avenue of support.
“It’s not about favoritism anyway; if we demonstrate our skill, there should be no problem,” Zhao Xing said.
“What technique will you contribute?” Chen Shijie asked Zhao Xing.
“Thunder Breaking Delusion Finger,” Zhao Xing replied.
The technique was one he had developed, a high-level lightning technique that had reached Seventh Rank, though it was not yet perfected.
“How about you?” Zhao Xing asked.
“I’ve developed a high-tier Earth Palace technique,” Chen Shijie said. “It’s a bit rough but meets the criteria.”
Long Xiao smirked. “One form of the Shenxiao Sword Technique should be enough.”
“Who asked you?” Chen Shijie quipped.
“…”
They arrived at the entrance to Li Huo Dao Academy, where they waited for a guide.
To avoid complications, Chen Shijie had contacted Yang An’s acquaintance at the academy.
Using his master’s name, Liu Tianning, might have backfired, as Master Liu had once challenged Li Huo Dao Academy and half of the other academies across the realm. Mentioning his lineage might stir unnecessary trouble.
After about half an hour, a young boy in yellow robes emerged.
“Are you Lord Chen Shijie and Lord Long Xiao?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s us,” Chen Shijie nodded.
“Who is this?” the boy asked, looking toward Zhao Xing.
“A colleague here for the assessment as well,” Chen Shijie replied without elaborating.
“Please, follow me,” the boy said, leading them into the academy.
…
The architecture of Li Huo Dao Academy was grand and ancient, with towering structures and expansive halls. Even the pavilions were over seven or eight meters tall, and the walkways were wide enough for carriages to pass through side-by-side.
“Although it’s called Li Huo Dao Academy, it has plenty of lakes and spiritual springs. The layout balances the fire of the Divine Platform with earth and water elements, preventing the fire from growing too intense,” Zhao Xing observed.
This was only a branch campus, yet it was serene, tranquil, and carried a celestial aura, starkly contrasting with the academy he had known in his previous life. Then, under the rule of Martial Emperor, Li Huo Dao Academy had been turned into a war machine, its once peaceful halls imbued with a menacing atmosphere.
The Martial Emperor had reshaped the academy’s spiritual elegance into a military might.
As they walked, Zhao Xing recalled how the emperor had drained the power of Li Huo Dao Academy, expending thirty-two out of forty-nine Flame Spirit Mountains in a single era.
After about fifteen minutes, the boy led them to a towering building that stood two hundred meters tall.
“Honored guests, we have arrived,” the boy explained. “Ahead of you is the Tower of Techniques.”
The Tower of Techniques had ninety-nine floors, each housing various arts and methods.
“Within the first thirty floors, you’ll find lower and mid-tier techniques.”
“Beyond the thirtieth floor, the techniques are all high-tier.”
The boy added, “To obtain an honorary title, you’ll need to leave your original technique on a ‘Technique Wall’ beyond the thirtieth floor. It must be a truly self-created technique, as only original techniques can leave a mark.”
“Many thanks,” Chen Shijie said with a bow.
“It was my pleasure,” the boy replied before boarding his flying boat and departing.
Many similar guides were assisting other visitors, ferrying them to and from the academy’s vast grounds.
The academy was bustling, as numerous people came to try their skills at leaving their mark. Even leaving one’s name on the lower levels of the Tower of Techniques was a point of pride.
Many of the visitors were academy students themselves, as the Li Huo Dao Academy required all Daoist students to leave behind at least one new technique on the lower thirty floors to graduate.
“Quite a crowd,” Long Xiao observed, scanning the people around them. “But their levels seem low. Most of them are low-grade cultivators, with few in the middle grades, and I haven’t seen any high-grades yet.”
“High-grade cultivators aren’t exactly common,” Zhao Xing chuckled. “Not everyone you meet will be that powerful.”
“Half-baked practitioners, all showing off,” Long Xiao scoffed. “They’re only in the lower grades—what powerful technique could they possibly create?”
His comments attracted a few curious glances.
“Can’t you keep a low profile?” Zhao Xing whispered sharply. “Is it a sword cultivator’s nature to crave attention?”
“Keep your voice down. I don’t want any trouble from the attention you’re drawing.”
“Got it. I’ll stay quiet.” Long Xiao lowered his voice. “Following your lead.”
“Let’s go.”
With that, the three of them entered the Tower of Techniques.
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