SS CH40

At that time, no one in the world had ever heard of Ruan Feiyu. The “Southern Scholar” whose reputation shook the world was actually his mentor, Ruan Qingxing.

The Southern Scholar Ruan Qingxing and the Northern Hero Qin Hebai—one master of letters and the other of martial might—together held up opposite halves of the sky. Regrettably, though they shared the same righteous path, they walked different roads.

Forty-five years ago, when the twenty-eight-year-old Qin Hebai forged his legacy in a single battle and transitioned from the martial world into the imperial court, Ruan Qingxing was already forty years old. As a close and faithful friend of Qin Hebai’s late father, the Grand Chancellor offered immense guidance and patronage to the young general. Even Qin Hebai’s eventual investiture as the Grand General owed much to Ruan Qingxing’s favorable words before the Emperor, who held the Chancellor in high esteem.

At that time, the late Emperor’s throne was trembling amidst perilous storms, leaving him with very few trusted and capable ministers to rely upon. On one hand, the sovereign sought psychological solace by pursuing Taoist alchemy and immortality; on the other, he pinned his hopes on virtuous talents to sustain his rule. Consequently, he followed Ruan Qingxing’s counsel implicitly, not only appointing Qin Hebai as Grand General but also entrusting him with the command of a hundred thousand troops.

Qin Hebai truly did not disappoint the heavy trust placed in him. He possessed a blunt, magnanimous character and superb, peerless martial arts, yet he was no boorish brute who relied solely on raw strength. He mastered military strategy and tactical warfare, proving himself to be not only a brilliant battlefield commander but also a disciplined leader of men. His success effectively silenced the detractors who had gathered to watch him fail. Over the course of eight years, he cleared away the Emperor’s anxieties and thoroughly solidified his standing in court, rising to become the undisputed head of the military officials—standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ruan Qingxing as the twin pillars of the empire.

For letters and martial might to harmonize under the same sky should have been a glorious blessing, but human affairs are ever fickle.

Young, capable, and profoundly accomplished, Qin Hebai was both a Grand General wielding immense court influence and the widely celebrated “Northern Hero” of the martial world. His glory was absolute. Back then, whenever anyone spoke of him, they viewed him as a favored child of heaven. Even the late Emperor once praised: “To have Minister Ruan in civil affairs and Lord Qin in military matters is Our greatest fortune.”

Yet, it was precisely such a uniquely gifted individual who was destined for a horrific end.

Having commanded the Lingying Guards for a decade, Ye Fusheng might not have known every minute detail of these past court affairs, but they were deeply familiar to his ears.

Qin Hebai was enfeoffed as Grand General at twenty-eight. He campaigned for eight years to pacify the rebellions of the Eastern Sea, then marched north to resist the enemy, forcing the Northern Barbarians to retreat beyond the frontier passes, daring not to invade for three subsequent years. Upon his triumphant return to the capital, he was exceptionally granted the title of “Duke of State Protection,” an official of the First Rank. Approaching his fortieth year, his status was entirely equal to that of the fifty-four-year-old Ruan Qingxing.

“Among the ultimate crimes in this world, aside from outright treason and rebellion, is possessing merit so great it intimidates the sovereign,” Ye Fusheng said, shaking his head. “Qin Hebai’s death was deeply unjust, yet it was also entirely inevitable.”

By then, the Southern Scholar Ruan Qingxing was already plagued by severe illness, and his control over the civil faction was no longer what it used to be. Coupled with the late Emperor’s growing obsession with his search for immortality and his consequent neglect of state affairs, the imperial court splintered into warring factions. Internal strife broke out among the civil officials, while the military officials aggressively expanded their influence, showing signs of monopolizing both military and political administration. Qin Hebai himself may have harbored no treacherous ambitions, but he failed to implement measures to curb his subordinates, effectively allowing this dangerous imbalance of power to run unchecked.

It was precisely during this volatile juncture that Ruan Feiyu burst onto the scene.

“Two years later, the late Emperor’s health was severely depleted due to dual cultivation and the consumption of alchemical pills. Dark undercurrents surged violently through both the court and the imperial harem. However, Ruan Qingxing was too gravely ill to control the civil bureaucracy, and while Qin Hebai possessed ample tactical intellect, he lacked the deep political cunning required to prevent factionalism among the military officials. Thus, a new equilibrium was desperately needed,” Ye Fusheng massaged the space between his brows. “To achieve this, Ruan Qingxing submitted a memorial to the late Emperor, requesting a special imperial examination to select capable talents who could help him bolster the civil faction, allowing them to stand against the military party. Ruan Feiyu was one of those selected.”

Thirty-five years ago, Ruan Feiyu was merely a twenty-two-year-old youth whose name was completely unknown to the world. It was known early on that he hailed from Lanzhou, possessed no relatives or family connections, and could be considered a thoroughly impoverished scholar who lived hand-to-mouth. No one knew when exactly he caught Ruan Qingxing’s eye to be taken in as his final closed-door disciple. He spent two years inside the Sanmei Academy without a shred of his reputation leaking outside, remaining as quiet as a winter chick huddled inside a thatched shed.

Yet during that specific imperial examination, he achieved the top rank of Zhuangyuan, utterly eclipsing the gathered talents of the realm.

The newly minted Zhuangyuan was a man of exceptional intellect and capability. Though he lacked an aristocratic lineage to back him, he was the brilliant disciple of Chancellor Ruan; though his name had not been long celebrated, he possessed genuine, profound erudition. After serving a mere two months in the Hanlin Academy, he was exceptionally selected to enter the Ministry of Justice. His future was boundless.

As the saying goes, a new official lights three fires upon taking office—and the very first case he investigated burned its way directly onto Qin Hebai.

—

A military commander stationed along the northwestern frontier had secretly accepted bribes from foreign tribes, permitting their merchants and monks to “act as they saw fit” within his jurisdiction. Consequently, enemy spies infiltrated the region, stealing the city’s defense maps and enticing foreign tribes to assault the pass, nearly culminating in a monumental catastrophe.

That military commander had followed Qin Hebai in battle for many years. Out of sentiment for their shared history, the Grand General chose to administer a light punishment as a warning, merely charging him with a failure to maintain vigilant defenses, demoting and reassigning him while concealing the finer details of the transgression.

A matter that should have been quietly put to rest was somehow uncovered by Ruan Feiyu. Following the vines to unearth the roots, the young official actually exposed the grim reality—the commander had not been temporarily blinded by greed; rather, he had long colluded with foreign tribes, turning into a treacherous traitor who sold his country for personal gain.

The late Emperor was naturally suspicious. The profound trust he had once reposed in Ruan Qingxing and Qin Hebai had by then degenerated into deep wariness, and the weapon-wielding Qin Hebai in particular felt like a thorn lodged in his throat. Accurately gauging the sovereign’s mindset, Ruan Feiyu submitted his report directly to the throne. In a fit of thunderous rage, the late Emperor dragged the border commander back to the capital for public interrogation. Qin Hebai was nearly branded a co-conspirator. It was only because there was no concrete proof linking him to the treason, combined with his years of monumental military achievements, that he was merely sentenced to twenty strokes of the paddle before the court and ordered to return to his manor for self-reflection.

With this single stroke, a new dynamic emerged between the civil and military factions. Backed by his mentor and aided by numerous fellow disciples within the civil bureaucracy, Ruan Feiyu stood in direct opposition to the military party, locking horns squarely with Qin Hebai.

Chu Xiwei knit his brows. “But judging by the records of the Hundred Ghosts Sect, the Northern Hero was not a narrow-minded man.”

Though he was born of royal blood, when the events surrounding the Northern Hero transpired, he did not even know which corner of the underworld he was waiting in to drink Meng Po’s soup. Furthermore, the intelligence network of the Hundred Ghosts Sect primarily focused on the affairs of the martial world; when it came to these ancient court affairs, he was essentially entirely in the dark.

Ye Fusheng nodded and said, “Precisely. Therefore, after a month of house arrest, Qin Hebai did not return to court to seek vengeance against Ruan Feiyu. Instead, he personally requested an external deployment to guard Jinghan Pass.”

Chu Xiwei countered, “But I remember that Qin Hebai died at thirty-nine, charged with the crime of high treason, resulting in the extermination of his entire lineage.”

“Yes,” Ye Fusheng affirmed. “He had been stationed at Jinghan Pass for less than a year when he was suddenly summoned back by the late Emperor via an urgent Gold Medal Order. Yet for reasons unknown, he adamantly refused to return to court. Driven to absolute fury, the Emperor dispatched the Lingying Guards to seize him, finally dragging him back to the Capital in chains.”

As it turned out, prior to that event, a massive crisis had erupted within the imperial palace—the late Emperor had fallen gravely ill, coughing up blood. After a meticulous diagnosis, the Imperial Academy of Medicine discovered that he had been poisoned. The source of the venom was none other than the “immortality elixirs” the sovereign consumed daily; a small dose caused no visible harm, but prolonged ingestion wrought catastrophic damage to the internal organs.

Even more shocking was the revelation that the alchemical monks who forged these elixirs had been presented by the Second Prince to curry favor. Under brutal interrogation, a captive confessed that the Second Prince had explicitly orchestrated the poisoning in order to… commit regicide, seize the throne, and ascend the dais early.

The Emperor was consumed by thunderous wrath, the Second Prince was placed under strict confinement, and every official in court found themselves in imminent peril. Ruan Feiyu, who was then serving as the Vice Minister of Justice, submitted an official memorial accusing Qin Hebai of harboring an army for self-interest and secretly colluing with the Second Prince with intent to launch a rebellion, presenting a string of verified evidence to support the claim.

The Second Prince had always favored military might over civil governance and maintained a close relationship with Qin Hebai. Furthermore, Jinghan Pass was the absolute lifeline of the Northern Frontier; massing troops there was akin to choking the nation’s throat. Qin Hebai was already deeply feared by the sovereign, and now that he was implicated in high treason and refused the urgent summon, the late Emperor became absolutely convinced that he intended to rebel. Thus, the Lingying Guards were commanded to capture him.

Qin Hebai’s martial arts were formidable, and Jinghan Pass was filled with his loyal personal troops; a regular squad of ten Lingying Guards stood no chance against him. In the end, it was the Commander of the Lingying Guards at the time who personally took action, barely managing to bring him down.

During the courtroom confrontation, Qin Hebai possessed no evidence to proclaim his innocence, while Ruan Feiyu’s proof was absolute. One side resolutely refused to confess while the other pressed forward aggressively. The trial ultimately concluded when Ruan Qingxing dragged his sickly body to court to throw his full weight behind his disciple, combined with the sudden betrayal of one of Qin Hebai’s most trusted confidants mid-trial. The entire Qin family, numbering one hundred and thirty-six souls including servants, was cast into the imperial prisons.

The high treason of the Duke of State Protection, Qin Hebai, could be considered the single greatest case since the founding of Great Chu, implicating nearly the entire imperial court of the era. Even the martial world was thrown into turbulent chaos due to the fate of the Northern Hero. At that time, countless individuals cried out against the injustice, and commoners even rolled over beds of nails to block the path of official carriages, solely to submit a blood-written petition begging the court to conduct a truthful retrial.

Yet after three full rounds of judicial review, no method could be found to absolve him of the charges. Hot-blooded martial artists foolishly attempted to raid the prison but failed, only dragging the Qin family deeper into the abyss. The late Emperor commanded that the execution be carried out on a designated date.

On the day of the execution, torrential rain poured from the heavens, leaving the streets of the Capital entirely deserted. The newly appointed Minister of Justice, Ruan Feiyu, personally supervised the execution. One hundred and thirty-six heads of the Qin family rolled upon the ground; the rain washed away the stains of blood as the corpses tumbled down the stone steps.

Three months later, amidst a raging blizzard, Ruan Qingxing succumbed to his illness. Before breathing his last, he bequeathed the Sanmei Academy to Ruan Feiyu, who from that moment onward became the “Southern Scholar” wielding absolute influence over the empire.

Chu Xiwei’s brows locked into a fierce knot. “From the sound of it, this Southern Scholar is hardly a good person.”

“There are no absolute good people in this world, just as there are no absolute villains,” Ye Fusheng remarked. “The case of the Northern Hero remains unrectified to this day. During the late Emperor’s reign, any official who sought to clear his name was either charged with the same crime or summarily demoted, leaving behind only those who prioritized self-preservation. Whether Qin Hebai truly intended to rebel has thus become an eternal mystery… consequently, whether Ruan Feiyu is truly a good man remains open to debate.”

Chu Xiwei cast a glance at him and said, “Yet from the way you narrate it, you are clearly voicing grievances on behalf of the Northern Hero.”

Ye Fusheng spread his hands. “As a member of the younger generation, I have no right to dictate terms regarding these ancient affairs. Naturally, I can only follow in the footsteps of my predecessor.”

“Predecessor? Which predecessor?”

Ye Fusheng rolled up his sleeve, revealing the wild goose tattoo that Chu Xiwei found instantly piercing to his eyes, and said, “Naturally, it is the first-generation Commander of the Lingying Guards from back then.”

The moment he brought up this matter, Chu Xiwei’s mood soured. He let out a cold laugh, saying, “It seems you have spent these past ten years rather comfortably, to possess such a deep sense of belonging.”

Ye Fusheng did not snap back at him. He merely shook his head and asked, “A-Yao, don’t you find this tattoo familiar?”

Chu Xiwei’s gaze froze. As his mind raced through his memories, his expression instantly underwent a drastic change.

Ye Fusheng said softly, “It is identical to the carved pattern upon the sheath of the Jinghong—the Shocking Swan—Blade, isn’t it?”

Chu Xiwei lapsed into silence for a long moment. “What are you trying to say?”

“I remember that back then, you used to complain to me, saying my Master disliked you and Ziyu,” Ye Fusheng looked at him. “At that time, I didn’t understand either. But now, I can give you the answer… she did indeed dislike you both. To be precise, she disliked every single member of the Great Chu imperial family.”

The Lingying Guards were established by the Grand Ancestor, and its first-generation Commander was a brother who had shared life and death with him throughout his military years. Together they had weathered the storms of the martial world, together they had launched the uprising and slaughtered their way through battlefields, and together they had overthrown the previous dynasty to aid the Grand Ancestor in claiming the dragon throne. Afterward, he concealed his name and identity, serving as the sovereign’s shadow for his entire life—the sharpest blade of his existence.

Whatever the Grand Ancestor’s heart desired was where his blade pointed, never wavering or abandoning him through a lifetime, unceasing even unto death.

Yet such a dedicated man was utterly loathed by the late Emperor.

The late Emperor was born with a sensitive, deeply suspicious nature and refused to grant significant authority to the Lingying Guards. This was especially true during the case of Qin Hebai, when the Lingying Commander committed a monumental indiscretion—entering the Tanze Palace by night and kneeling continuously without rising, begging for mercy on Qin Hebai’s behalf.

He knelt for an entire night as the cold rain drenched his body. Bearing a head full of wounds inflicted by the late Emperor smashing teacups against him, he begged for nothing but the sovereign’s clemency.

In the end, he failed to save Qin Hebai. Instead, he thoroughly incensed the late Emperor, was denounced as a member of the traitorous faction, and was executed via slow-slicing at the camp gates. He endured a full one thousand cuts before his remains were discarded in a mass grave outside the palace. The Lingying Guards were summarily disbanded from that moment onward, and all remaining members had their tongues severed and their hamstrings cut before being driven out of the Capital.

A lifetime spent on horseback, yet left with no place to bury his bones, his very name known to few.

Ten years ago, when Ye Fusheng entered the Lingying Guards and became its new Commander, he finally discovered the written records of this man’s life. A single sheet of thin words left him shivering with terror—

Gu Zheng, courtesy name Chengjun, a native of Yanchuan. Highly proficient in blade techniques, his movement techniques were peerless across the realm, once earning him a celebrated name in the martial world: “The Shocking Swan Blade” (Jinghong Dao).

Gu Chengjun incensed the late Emperor and perished for his crime. He left behind a single daughter who was far removed from the Capital; because of her tender age, she escaped being implicated in the disaster. Her name was Gu Qifang.

Chu Xiwei’s heart leaped into his throat, hanging in suspension as the blood throughout his entire body turned thoroughly ice-cold. He stood there, completely numb and frozen.