Chapter 77 – Spent Half an Hour, Still Can’t Think of a Title

“I imagine even if I were to produce those two confession documents right now, you wouldn’t believe them,” Zhan Changfeng said, taking out a Jade Pendant sealed with a wisteria flower and a letter. “These are the tokens of communication between Yue Kun and Zou Tingwei. The clues concerning Li Mao, the Gongsun Clan, and Zou Tingwei are quite clear within them. If you still have doubts, you may question Yue Kun directly.”

“Only, I must remind you — that person killed Zou Tingwei but left Yue Kun alive, which suggests that only Zou Tingwei knew who he was. As for me, I’m not particularly worried; whatever comes, I’ll deal with it accordingly. What I do wonder is whether the Bureau of Patrol can tolerate having someone like that within its own ranks.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Zhan Changfeng added, as if something had just occurred to her, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Li Mao’s Jingyu Guard numbers at least a thousand men. They have never appeared within Shenzhou’s borders before — they likely came from Cangyun Ravine. It seems the Bureau of Patrol isn’t all that capable, if it could allow so many cultivators to openly cause chaos.”

“That’s impossible,” Yu Zhen said sharply, his expression truly darkening. “Everyone who comes from Cangyun Ravine must register their name and origin, which is kept on file, and their whereabouts are all recorded.”

If that many cultivators had indeed come from Cangyun Ravine without appearing in any records, it could only mean one thing — someone within the Bureau of Patrol with considerable authority had been covering for them.

The overseers exchanged glances and involuntarily shifted their gazes toward Lin Zhao. The registration of names and the tracking of cultivators’ movements had always been under his management.

Lin Zhao showed not the slightest fear, glaring back at each of them in turn. “Do you not know what kind of man I am?! The Jingyu Guard around Li Mao absolutely did not come from Cangyun Ravine — go ahead and investigate all you like!”

He turned and challenged Zhan Changfeng, “Your Highness the Crown Prince’s words are rather contradictory. You said earlier that the second document contained the names of Zou Tingwei’s confessed accomplices, yet you have consistently refused to reveal any names. Could it be that these accomplices are entirely fictitious?”

“You don’t believe me, so there’s little point in me saying it outright. However, I can reveal just a small detail,” Zhan Changfeng said, fixing her gaze on Lin Zhao’s eyes. “His surface relationship with Zou Tingwei was not a good one.”

Lin Zhao’s pupils contracted.

Zhan Changfeng continued, “They even frequently exchanged cold mockery and cutting remarks with one another.”

The expressions of the assembled overseers shifted.

“After Zou Tingwei was arrested, his first reaction was to place the blame squarely on Zou. After Zou died, however, he began pitting the Bureau of Patrol against me.”

Lin Zhao’s fingers trembled, and he quickly tightened his grip on his blade.

The overseers recalled Lin Zhao’s words and actions, and found, to their astonishment, that they matched perfectly with what Zhan Changfeng had described!

But then Zhan Changfeng suddenly eased off, smiling lightly. “Of course, that last part is my conjecture. As for the specifics, I ask that you all investigate. There are thirteen days before the main army arrives at Huangzhou. I trust the Bureau of Patrol will have this matter thoroughly investigated within that time — won’t it?”

That final “won’t it?” added enormous pressure to everyone present. Yu Zhen suddenly realized that control had never been in their hands to begin with — her ability to command the situation was so overwhelming that there was simply no way to turn it around.

Yu Zhen could only say, “We apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness. We will investigate and resolve this matter as quickly as possible.”

“Farewell.” Yu Zhen gave the overseers a meaningful look and deliberately drew Lin Zhao along with the group as they departed.

Lin Zhao maintained a composed air, leaving with the others as though nothing had happened.

Zero-Two, who had been standing in the background alongside the Xuanwu Guards, felt his admiration for the young lord grow ever deeper, along with a growing sense of humility. As the presiding examiner on that day, he knew perfectly well that there had been no confession documents whatsoever.

Zou Tingwei had only verbally shouted that he had been bribed by the Gongsun Clan — he never had the chance to say anything further, as he was cut off by the chaos He Yuntian had created, and was subsequently assassinated.

“This subordinate is slow-witted. How did Your Highness know this person was suspicious?”

“The dead speak, let alone the living. It’s just that the more a living person moves, the truer their words become.” Reading a person’s intentions and deducing their past or forthcoming actions from their body language, facial details, eye movements, and speech — that was the most fundamental aspect of the Imperial Arts.

The fabricated confession documents, the examination of the corpse, and drawing out the issue of the Jingyu Guard — all of it had been designed to create a chain of events that allowed her to observe these people’s reactions and thereby identify that individual.

Once a candidate was established and their personality modeled, it was not difficult to deduce how they would react in this particular situation.

The matter of Lin Zhao was not yet hers to deal with — the Bureau of Patrol would handle it in due course. The affairs of Huangzhou, however, were pressing.

Zero-Two and Fang Heng had already taken hold of Huangzhou’s power and were in the process of managing the aftermath.

What came next was the redistribution of power.

According to Zhan Changfeng’s vision, Huangzhou would become the martial arts center of Shenzhou. As military strength grew increasingly formidable, the original bureaucratic system would likely struggle to maintain governance, and that system had its own problems — bloated personnel, low efficiency, and various other shortcomings that she had little interest in preserving.

At present, other regions had suffered varying degrees of damage from the war, while Huangzhou remained stable. Furthermore, the common people of Huangzhou were accustomed to seeing those dressed in Daoist robes or the garb of wandering martial artists. Even some scholars, landed gentry, and wealthy merchants considered wearing Daoist robes to be fashionable, and some with a taste for martial prowess would imitate martial cultivators by wearing swords and sabers, drinking wine, and eating meat. They were far more open to new things than people in other regions.

Perhaps it could serve as a testing ground for a new form of governance — one that was more enlightened and free, and capable of supporting a powerful martial force.

But Zhan Changfeng also understood clearly that forcibly ordering changes to the official system, to the practice of polygamy, to the master-servant contract, and to the countless other traditions deeply rooted over a thousand years — that was tantamount to directly opposing this entire era. Never mind the old-school scholars who kept ancestral rules on the tips of their tongues; even farmers in the fields would find it impossible to accept.

The cost of such a move was something even she herself could not predict.

It could only be done through gradual, subtle influence.

“Retain the position of inspector-General, with exclusive responsibility for administration. Transform the Governor-General’s Office into a Military Affairs Bureau, overseeing the military. Separately establish a Penal and Prison Court, overseeing law. As for personnel — let Fang Heng serve as inspector-General for now, you take the position of bureau Chief, and the Penal and Prison Court shall be newly assembled.”

Zhan Changfeng considered for a moment. “Shortly, I will give you a detailed plan in which the responsibilities and duties of each official post will be clearly defined. In addition, beneath the Military Affairs Bureau, establish a Military Arts Academy dedicated to cultivating martial disciples and talents in the art of war.”

The imperial family had collected a great many cultivation methods and military texts — there was no concern about lacking the resources to sustain a Military Arts Academy. And since Zero-Two was a shadow guard specifically tasked with managing intelligence, there was no one more suited to take on this role.

“Also, hand He Yuntian over to the Bureau of Patrol, and while you’re at it, bring up the matter of his helping Yue Kun at the fighting stage and his role in the prison break.”

“Understood.”

And so, no sooner had He Yuntian managed to regain consciousness than he found himself in a dungeon, his hands bound in spirit-suppressing shackles.

“Release me at once! I am He Yuntian of the Gentleman’s Court!” he shouted, gripping the iron bars and yelling outward.

Yu Zhen was deeply vexed. He had already been keeping a closer eye on Lin Zhao, and yet the man had still managed to escape midway. Though some doubts remained unresolved, the matter of his colluding with the Gongsun Clan was essentially set in stone.

Two overseers secretly violating the law and breaking discipline, only to have it exposed by an outsider — it was nothing short of a stain on the Bureau of Patrol.

Under normal circumstances, out of respect for the Gentleman’s Court, one might turn a blind eye to certain things. But when it came to He Yuntian and his reckless involvement in Yue Kun’s rebellion, there was no such leniency to be had.

“Investigate He Yuntian and the He family’s role in this matter. If they were unwittingly drawn in without prior knowledge, summon the Gentleman’s Court to collect him. If he acted in full awareness of what he was doing, punish him according to the law.” Yu Zhen swept his sleeves and exited the dungeon, simultaneously dispatching people to pursue and apprehend Lin Zhao while sending cultivators to the Imperial Capital to investigate the Jingyu Guard.

Once all his instructions had been given, he let out a breath and went to report the situation to Jun Wenjiu. Jun Wenjiu had no objections to his arrangements. “Do it as you see fit.”

Yu Zhen hesitated slightly. “Hall Master, there is something that has been weighing on my mind. You are wise and experienced — could you offer me some guidance?”

Jun Wenjiu was young, but her cultivation was profound and deep — she was more than worthy of the word “guidance.” “Go ahead.”

“Today, when we went to find Crown Prince Changsheng, we had originally intended to give her a show of force and directly entered the rear of the military camp — only to happen upon her practicing swordplay,” Yu Zhen said. “I once had the fortune of observing a Dao Platform Assembly in the upper realm, and the sword arts of the Nine Extremes Return-to-One Sect left a deep impression on me. The moment I saw her swordsmanship, I found it remarkably similar to the Return-to-One Sword Sect’s style.”

“Oh?” Jun Wenjiu’s interest was piqued. The lazily half-closed eyes opened fully. “So you are questioning the origins of her background? That’s easy enough to deal with. Yan Weishan of the Nine Extremes Return-to-One Sect is undergoing training in the mortal realm. With the Heavenward Path opening soon, if he intends to return, he should be in Xiaohan Town by now. Just ask him and you’ll know.”

Jun Wenjiu flicked out a wisp of wine-scented air, which vanished swiftly into the void.

Yan Weishan?

Yu Zhen was suddenly stirred with excitement. “Is this the Yan Weishan on the Rising Stars Rankings?”

(End of Chapter)