Chapter 108

Chapter 108

“The Alliance Leader of the Martial World, Xu Yuan.”

“…He found your sword? Where did he find it?” Yun Shen asked suspiciously.

“Don’t know.” Chen Shu, feeling defeated, plopped down beside him and angrily tossed the low-quality fake sword back onto the table. “Liu Mao hasn’t said anything useful. His flowery words are just hot air!”

Upon hearing this, the third person in the room coughed, catching his breath. Chen Shu then looked up to see He Yu’s face, which showed embarrassment despite the eye mask. Suddenly realizing something, she chuckled awkwardly, “…I’m not cursing him. But he really won’t reveal a single truth. All he said was that the Alliance Leader found the sword and intends to use it to lure that ‘military advisor’ out. I don’t know what his plan is or what sword it is.”

This time, it was Yun Shen who coughed. He covered his mouth with a fist and cleared his throat lightly to disguise it. Chen Shu turned her head to look at him.

The three of them were currently staying at an inn that used to be in the city; it wasn’t the same one as before but was equally shabby, providing only basic meals and tea as a place to rest.

They had randomly found a room today to gather and discuss their next steps.

“…Did you two catch a cold last night?” she paused, asking with curiosity.

“…No.” Yun Shen replied, smiling gently. “But Brother He might be unclear about the situation, so why don’t you explain it to him?”

“No need, no need,” He Yu waved his hand repeatedly. “I may be dull, but I’m not a fool! It was my fault I gave the sword to Little Shu, and it caused trouble, right?”

“…That’s not it.” Chen Shu said, finally feeling a hint of guilt. “I realized something was off when I got the sword, but at that time, we were in the heat of battle, and I was afraid that if I said anything, the killer would escape—I was convinced that the person holding my sword was definitely the killer of the one in the secret passage. But now that the sword has fallen into the hands of the Alliance Leader of the Martial World, the situation has changed…”

As she spoke, Chen Shu reached up to scratch the back of her head, seemingly feeling more embarrassed, nearly unwilling to admit it as she let out a sigh.

Yun Shen beside her chuckled compassionately, responding, “Initially, this ‘case’ was very clear: one killer, one victim. But now there’s an added Alliance Leader of the Martial World, who encountered Brother He after ‘coming out of the secret room.’ Therefore, this sword is quite likely not with the killer at all, but it was found by the passing Alliance Leader, either on a corpse in the secret passage or thrown away by the killer outside the passage—”

“—or the killer might have taken my sword just to confuse the issue and frame the person who found it.” Chen Shu gloomily added.

“Therefore, there’s no need to hide from you or me that the sword hasn’t been found,” Yun Shen summarized, deliberately emphasizing the words “you” and “me.” “Secondly, this matter of searching for the sword is now entirely at a standstill.”

“…Why can’t we go find the Alliance Leader of the Martial World and ask him?” He Yu suggested.

The three of them exchanged glances, silent for a while. Finally, Chen Shu spoke to him, “You go?”

Even Yun Shen looked at him with a hint of expectation.

Going to ask the Alliance Leader of the Martial World would indeed directly determine whether this was Chen Shu’s sword, but the Martial World Alliance was preparing to use the sword as bait. Not to mention that this inquiry might delay the matter, just the sudden approach to ask would inevitably raise suspicions again. Thinking it through, they all realized they had been to the secret room in the Valley of Villains. Although they were unassuming now, if they inadvertently confirmed that the treasured sword belonged to Chen Shu, questions would arise about why the ‘military advisor’ cared about the sword, leading to a dead-end debate—something even Chen Shu herself could not clarify.

“…Let’s take our time with this,” He Yu finally sighed after a moment, likely coming to the same conclusion.

“Indeed, we should take our time,” Yun Shen responded understandingly. He seemed lost in thought, a lingering smile on his face as he added, “The sword isn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how they plan to set the stage and wait until they catch that ‘military advisor’ before telling the truth, won’t that suffice?”

Chen Shu considered these words; since it was Yun Shen’s idea, she didn’t take the time to reflect further before her eyes brightened, seemingly wanting to agree as usual. However, He Yu spoke up first.

“That might not be good. Since the person has already escaped, it might take a lot of effort to catch him again, and we might not even succeed. Besides, now that Fangcheng has fallen, everyone is eager to return home; we would have scattered by then…”

“Who said that?” Yun Shen replied, still smiling lightly.

“I’ll stay with her.”

Quite a few Members of the Wulin Community had been lodged in these temporarily vacated inns. As the group lowered their voices, the sounds of bustling footsteps outside began to seep into the room, mingling with the distant, accented chatter that drifted in like smoke. These fragments of noise briefly captured everyone’s attention. By the time Chen Shu snapped out of her reverie, she found Yun Shen still gazing steadily at her, his eyes deep and dark, making it impossible for her to respond carelessly. Meanwhile, He Yu, who had been relaxed moments earlier, now wore a pensive expression as he observed Yun Shen from the side, falling silent.

Suddenly, the faint commotion outside felt piercingly loud—agitating the restless heat simmering in her chest. But Chen Shu took a pair of shallow breaths, steadied herself, and that uncanny tension from moments earlier vanished like a trick of the senses.

“Oh—right! How’s your foot?” Finally recalling the injury, Chen Shu suddenly bounded closer, peppering him with cheerful questions.

But Yun Shen hadn’t truly been injured; he’d even forgotten to feign illness for two or three days. His unprepared expression froze at the query, especially when Chen Shu’s inquisitive hand descended to “check” it. Hastily, he seized her wrist to block it, mumbling: “It’s much better. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“You truly are remarkable! I heard An injury to the sinews or bones would take a hundred days to properly heal.” Chen Shu beamed, her face alight with admiration. “Maybe you’ve also got talents suited for cultivation!”

Yun Shen offered neither denial nor agreement, merely tucking his “injured” leg further away—ever so subtly—as he replied:

“Perhaps.”

_____

As expected, just as He Yu had foreseen, this waiting stretched on another ten days.

Fangcheng’s recovery efforts limped toward completion when the emperor’s edict finally descended upon the city, preceded by officials delegated to shoulder its sundry obligations.

Naturally, rewards and promises came too.

Though distraught over failing to capture Xiao Zhong’s head despite immense effort, Liu Mao had nonetheless led the troops to the consecutive conquest of two bastions—an accomplishment of staggering hardship the aging emperor surely acknowledged. Moreover, both victories had been emphatic triumphs: not only were the Valley of Villains and Fangcheng successfully toppled and their influence eradicated, but the majority of troops survived with minimal losses. This outcome stemmed from collective counsel and pooled resources. When dispensing imperial favor, however, the emperor would inevitably elevate those who commanded the boldest profiles and sacrificed the most blood.

As to what was specifically bestowed? Chen Shu found herself utterly adrift.

As the assembly knelt in solemn reverence, the imperial eunuch’s wavering voice drifted from Liu Mao’s vicinity to Chen Shu’s ears—shattered beyond recognition, its fragments coalescing into merely a few recognizable words. Amidst dazzling enumerations of gold, silver, and gemstones, the titles seemed to blur: perhaps a hereditary title? And Liu Mao himself was summoned to the capital to report on his duties.

In essence, this was liberation. Liu Mao’s punitive exile as Protector of Diancang Pass had finally run its course. Joy surged through him so fiercely he kowtowed repeatedly upon the ground, then rose—nearly swooning from fervor.

Beyond Liu Mao himself, other rewards flowed richly. The old peasant whose accidental shovel blow had finished Xiao Zhong truly attained riches to sustain his final years.

If Liu Mao was buoyed upright by sheer elation, the peasant simply succumbed to bliss—hitting the floor in a dead faint. Fortunately uncomplicated, the swoon passed. When revived, his tearful gratitude arrived late: the imperial envoy had departed Fangcheng two whole days prior.

Among the Members of the Wulin Community, most received imperial grace. Perhaps acutely aware that factions nursed internal fragility, the emperor opted for lavish material gifts—mountains of coins and grain—over hollow honors. These proud Wandering Swordsmen, who once refused to “bend their backs for five bushels of rice,” now offered reverent thanks for fortunes worth five hundred… even five thousand bushels.

Lost within the throng, Chen Shu mimicked their postures in thanks, yet privately sensed that something vital flickered absently within the edict, like a ghost between phrases.

From that hour forth, reorganizing troops, compiling records, and placating the people fell squarely upon the shoulders of imperial officials.

Thus wound down the saga of that tumultuous, endlessly protracted flood conspiracy—a conclusion arrived with unnerving speed. Within two sunsets of the edict’s arrival, the wandering swordsmen scattered like startled birds, abandoning inns that echoed with vacancy until Chen Shu finally—through persistent eavesdropping downstairs—caught wind of the Leader of the Martial Arts Alliance’s intention: He would await a period, granting the wider Wulin world space to settle lingering affairs… before assembling anew to act.

Leaning in closer to seize every word, Chen Shu watched the conversation evaporate instead. The two participants offered departing salutations, left the inn, and were likely bidding farewell to Fangcheng altogether. Infuriated, Chen Shu nearly gave chase to demand answers. Clenching her fists, she ultimately choked back the impulse—only to pivot toward storming straight to the governor’s manor. Determination flared: she’d drag clarity forth, even if it tore open every hidden lock.

It was only as her boots landed upon its threshold that Chen Shu remembered the discomfort circling like carrion birds within her for days.

The emperor had bestowed no reward upon Shen Jie.

That fact, by itself, mattered little. Chen Shu intimately understood Shen Jie’s mandate here. Sent less to oversee martial law than to untangle the conspiracies, Shen Jie had departed without fully unmasking the perpetrators. Such failure—even for a trusted imperial agent—could scarcely please the emperor.

Yet… absent too even was mention of Shen Jie’s ultimate disposition amidst the verbose, glittering decree. The omission of reassignment for such a pivotal minister carried chilling strangeness.

Few indeed remained within the inn. Even the Inn boy sprawled lazily against his counter now, rousing himself only briefly as Chen Shu exited. His indifferent greeting met silence; he promptly settled back without fuss.

Though many had departed, draining the inns into husks, the city’s pulse had metamorphosed. Beyond soldiers clearly draped in imperial gear, crowds of clamorous children and bustling women filled the streets—faces radiating contentment, voices interweaving in spirited exchange. A tapestry unseen when Chen Shu had first wandered Fangcheng.

Her mind recently tethered to the hunt for her stolen sword, Chen Shu now registered this transformation with wonder akin to her first descent from the mountain. Gradually, the tranquility suffusing the city seeped into her own restless spirit as she wove through the cheer.

The governor’s manor crouched mere blocks from her inn. Absorbed within her purpose, she breezed toward its gates—unaware its sentries had cycled entirely. Fresh faces met her approach, unknown to her. She advanced straight onward—and was intercepted cleanly.

The unfamiliar guard refused entry flatly. Chanting Shen Jie or Liu Mao’s name changed nothing. Desperate, she almost claimed herself Shen Jie’s blood kin—but still duty barred her path. “Lord Shen and Commander Liu returned to the capital long ago,” the guard stated firmly, offering no other concession. How could it be of any use.

But Shen Jie clearly hadn’t finished investigating the case, so how could she willingly return to the capital? Even if others didn’t know, Chen Shu was the one who knew best.

Just as the two were at an impasse, a familiar figure walked out of the city lord’s residence. Chen Shu saw it and, like she’d met a lifesaver, hurriedly called out:

“Li Chou! Hero Li! Young Valley Master!”

The three titles, each more flattering than the last, came as Li Chou approached. He couldn’t suppress the smile at the corner of his mouth, putting on a lofty air as he asked Chen Shu whom she was looking for.

But when Chen Shu spoke Shen Jie’s name, he also fell silent, saying Shen Jie had indeed already left.

“How is that possible?” Chen Shu said.

Watching Li Chou stride off toward the inn, she snorted at the guard and quickly followed, muttering under her breath about how Shen Jie could have left. Li Chou’s expression had shifted from pleased to annoyed, and after her tactless muttering, he spoke even less. After walking a long stretch, he abruptly stopped, waiting as Chen Shu barely managed to halt in front of him, almost bumping into him, then looked up at him, bewildered.

“Don’t even bring up Shen Jie! I’m heading back to the valley!” he said coldly.

“Is that so?” Chen Shu said, glancing at his face, then with a touch of coaxing, she added, “…Then you must be worn out. What were you doing at the city lord’s residence just now?”

“Curious?”

“Curious.” Chen Shu said honestly, opening her round eyes wide and asking brightly, “Just tell me!”

Li Chou snorted lightly, his expression brightening swiftly, though he kept a straight face. After a moment’s thought, he spoke: “The Leader of the Martial Arts Alliance borrowed a place from the authorities to discuss matters with me…”

“To discuss how to use that sword to lure people in?” Chen Shu blurted out eagerly.

“…How did you know?” Li Chou asked, with a hint of suspicion, but then continued, “That alliance leader planned to take an unconventional path. Once winter came, he’d hold a fake Bride’s Blade Challenge. The ‘bride’ part was a sham; the sword was what they truly meant to lure—”

“—Oh, can you go?”

Chen Shu looked at him, still tilting her head slightly up, her eyes brimming with hope, utterly pitiful and endearing.

Li Chou stared in surprise, nearly forgetting to reply. It took him a good while to regain his composure and ask:

“…Why should I go?”

“But that’s a precious sword! Why not go? Could it be you already fancy someone?” Chen Shu replied matter-of-factly.

At that, Li Chou was stunned again, then burst out in anger, shouting:

“Chen Shu!!”