Chapter Seventy-Nine: Unconventional Martial Arts

That night, Sha Tonghai hurriedly took a fast boat from Laizhou to Emerald Bamboo Island. Hearing that nearly a hundred people from the Eastern Kingdom, along with a martial artist, had died within two days, he was deeply grieved. When he saw everyone, Old Hu and the others exaggerated their accounts, and since Sha Tonghai had spent his life at sea—where superstitions and reverence for spirits were strong—he immediately ordered the camp overseers to ensure daily offerings for the spirits were never neglected.

Though Zhong Xian sensed something was amiss, seeing over a hundred lives lost was no small matter, and she dared not speak rashly. After some thought, she concluded it was just an accident and likely wouldn’t affect the greater plan, so she kept silent. Once everything was settled, Sha Tonghai returned to Laizhou before dawn.

As for who would be responsible for the daily offerings, the task naturally fell to Ma Beifang. The reasoning was that the monster had spared him last time, so it probably would not harm him in the future; if not him, then who? Upon hearing this, Huang Shan wept and clung to Ma Beifang’s hand, refusing to let him go. Ma Beifang had to promise that once he reached the place, he would throw the offerings into the mountain gully from a distance and run back at once, assuring her there would be no danger, which finally calmed her.

After nightfall, Ma Beifang carried a live sheep and a live chicken toward the Water Curtain Cave. He had just entered the dense woods when a dark shadow flashed toward him with ghost-like speed. In the dim light, he recognized Zhu Wuming. His eyes glowed red, his expression was fierce and twisted.

Sensing danger, Ma Beifang immediately hurled the live chicken at Zhu Wuming, who caught it deftly, tore off its head with his teeth, and hung the body upside-down to drain its blood. In moments, the chicken was dry. He then snatched the live sheep, ripped open its throat, and drank deeply until he had drained it as well.

When Zhu Wuming had finished, he tossed aside the carcass, exhaled heavily, and said, “If you can’t arrive by midnight in the future, don’t come at all. I fear I might lose control and harm you.”

Ma Beifang replied, “But what if I don’t come? What will you do then?” Zhu Wuming answered, “There are many wild beasts in these woods. I can always find something to feed on. The type of blood doesn’t matter to me; as long as it’s fresh, it will suffice. Sometimes I even have to drink rat’s blood.” His words carried a note of helplessness and sorrow.

Because everyone feared for Ma Beifang’s safety, they remained at the martial training camp, awaiting his return. Not daring to linger, Ma Beifang learned a few incantations from Zhu Wuming, who instructed him to practice by himself and return the next day. When he rushed back to the training camp and appeared unharmed, everyone finally relaxed and dispersed to sleep. Ma Beifang, however, could not rest. As soon as the others left, he locked his door, jumped onto his bed, and sat cross-legged to meditate, following the cultivation method Zhu Wuming had taught him.

The cultivation method was indeed peculiar. Normally, internal energy was drawn from the dantian, circulated through the Ren and Du meridians, and then into the eight extraordinary meridians. But this method required the energy to first pass through the eight extraordinary meridians before returning to the Ren and Du, and finally back to the dantian. Having practiced the Primordial Harmony Technique for many years, Ma Beifang was adept at controlling his internal energy, so guiding it through the eight meridians was not difficult. What was challenging was the intense discomfort, as illusions and distracting thoughts beset his mind. In no time, he was drenched in sweat, his dantian churning uncomfortably. He nearly gave up, but recalling his unavenged grievances, he clenched his teeth and persisted.

Time slipped by, and before he realized it, the year’s appointed deadline was near. Li Chongyuan and his companions had traveled across several southern provinces without success—not only did they find no trace of their old enemies, but even the whereabouts of the White Snake Ghost Sword remained unknown. Disheartened, they returned north from Qianzhou. During this time, Li Chongyuan and Lin Qingli had developed feelings for each other, but with Lan Wutong always by their side, even a moment of intimacy was continually interrupted—sometimes intentionally, sometimes not—leaving them awkward and frustrated.

By the time they reached Chang’an, it was already mid-June. In the city, they knew no one but Li Chongjun, so they went directly to the Prince Guard’s Residence to pay their respects. A eunuch announced their arrival, and soon returned, beaming. “My lady has heard of your visit and is delighted. She has instructed me to invite you in. Please, follow me into the residence.” He bowed and led the way.

Zilan had been waiting in the courtyard and, seeing the three of them, was overjoyed. Li Chongyuan and Lin Qingli hurried forward, calling out, “Senior Sister.” Lin Qingli hugged Zilan, laughing and jumping in delight. After their joyful reunion, Li Chongyuan introduced Lan Wutong. Once inside, finding Li Chongjun absent, they asked where their senior brother had gone.

Zilan’s face, initially full of smiles, turned somber at the question. Li Chongyuan’s heart tightened. “Has something happened between you and Senior Brother?” he asked anxiously. Zilan shook her head. “Your senior brother has always treated me well, but...” She sighed heavily. Li Chongyuan grew impatient. “What’s troubling him, then? Please tell us, Senior Sister!” Zilan gave a bitter smile. “I can’t explain it. Since your senior brother became Crown Prince, he’s been despondent. Each day he visits the palace to pay respects to his father, and returns with a heavy heart. Sometimes he locks himself in his room and smashes things. When I ask, he says nothing. People say, ‘Nothing in the world surpasses the honor of the Crown Prince’s position,’ but to my mind, it’s nothing compared to the happiness we found on the snowy peaks of Tianshan.” She sighed again, her sorrow deepening.

That afternoon, Li Chongjun returned from the palace. He looked haggard and sallow, a far cry from the heroic, cheerful Li Jiu Senior Brother they’d known at the Heart-Clarity Cave in Tianshan. Although pleased to see his friends, he forced himself to suppress his inner turmoil during the banquet, but after only a few rounds, he drank himself unconscious and had to be helped to his room.

After tea, Li Chongyuan asked, “Senior Sister, what is it that has changed our senior brother so much?” Zilan, weeping, replied, “Junior brother, I truly don’t know. He’s always like this after returning from the palace, but says nothing when I ask. He even went to the Ministry of Justice to search for records, hoping to find the murderer from years ago for you, but there was nothing there. For this, the vice minister even impeached him for interfering with legal cases. Outwardly, the officials treat him with respect, but in truth, they all exclude him.” The group sighed deeply and retired to rest.

The next morning, Li Chongjun washed and dressed, then set out for the palace to pay respects to the emperor. Since he held no official post, he could not attend court sessions and could only visit the inner palace to offer greetings.

After Li Xian finished court, he was carried in a sedan chair to Linzhi Hall. Empress Wei ordered her attendants to help Li Xian inside. Overweight and sluggish, Li Xian could barely stand without support. As he settled, breathless, a eunuch announced, “The Crown Prince requests an audience.”

Empress Wei waved her hand in annoyance. “He comes every day—has he no shame? Doesn’t he know his presence vexes me?” Li Xian glanced timidly at her. She snapped, “Enough, let him in. He can bow and then leave at once.”

Wang Zhong, the attendant, hurried to the door and shrilled, “His Highness the Crown Prince is summoned to attend!”

Li Chongjun followed the young eunuch into the hall. Seeing Li Xian and Empress Wei, he knelt, bowing deeply. “Your son greets Father and Mother, and offers wishes for your health—” Before he could finish, Empress Wei interrupted impatiently, “Enough, your filial piety is noted. The emperor understands. You may leave.” As he was about to speak, a sharp voice cut in, “Mother has told you to go—why are you still here?” From the rear hall, a young woman strode forward—it was Princess Anle. Spoiled by her mother, she never showed Li Chongjun respect. She and her consort, Wu Songxun, had even called him “servant” to his face more than once.

Li Chongjun seethed with suppressed rage. Struggling to contain himself, he bowed deeply to Li Xian. “Your son takes his leave!” He stood and departed without a backward glance.

Princess Anle fumed, “What a country bumpkin! He has no manners at all!”

Empress Wei smiled, “Good child, what brings you here today?”

Anle’s anger melted into a grin. “I have something delightful, but it needs Father’s imperial seal.” She drew a yellow silk scroll from her sleeve, nestled beside Li Xian, and unfurled it, hiding the contents with her hand. “Father, please stamp this for me.”

Li Xian laughed heartily and told Wang Zhong, “Fetch the imperial seal!”

Wang Zhong bowed. “Your Majesty, according to ancestral rules, to use the imperial seal, you must summon the cabinet ministers, read the request aloud, and after cabinet approval, only then may the seal be used. Please consider carefully.”

Anle flew into a rage. “Wang Zhong! You’re just a servant of our Li family. When your masters give an order, you obey. Who asked for all these rules?”

Though a eunuch, Wang Zhong also held the posts of Right Imperial Guard Commander and Chief Steward of the Daming Palace—positions of great influence—yet he was berated harshly by Anle and stood mortified.

Empress Wei said to Wang Zhong, “Eunuch Wang, don’t take it to heart. I am in charge here; please bring the imperial seal.”

Wang Zhong had no choice but to bow and withdraw. Soon he returned, bearing a sandalwood box inlaid with jade. He gently opened it, removed several layers of yellow cloth, and revealed the imperial jade seal—a lion and dragon design, white as mutton fat and bright as fish brain. Wang Zhong took a silk handkerchief from his breast, wiped his hands, then knelt and bowed before the seal.

Impatient, Anle cried, “Wang Zhong, what are you doing?” He replied solemnly, “The imperial seal is the nation’s treasure. I dare not be disrespectful. Please be patient, young mistress. Once I have finished paying my respects, you may use the seal.”

Anle snapped, “It belongs to my family! If I want to use it, I’ll just take it. Who has time for all this fuss?” With that, she pushed Wang Zhong aside, lifted the seal with both hands, stamped it forcefully onto the yellow scroll, then tossed it back into the box. Wang Zhong could only stand by, shaking his head in dismay.

Empress Wei took the stamped scroll and unrolled it slightly. At the top, she read: “By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Princess Anle, being gentle, filial, and virtuous, is permitted to inherit the great line of the Li family and is hereby promoted to Crown Princess...” Though alarmed, Empress Wei showed no sign of it. She said to Wang Zhong, “Eunuch Wang, return the seal. No one is to enter the hall without a summons!” Wang Zhong bowed and withdrew.

(To be continued.)