Chapter 72: Chapter 72

Off to the side, Ji Xue’s chest rose and fell unevenly. She hesitated three times over before finally speaking up.

“Patrol Envoy Shen… have you already broken through to Bone Tempering?”

Shen Xiuhan gave a slight nod. He didn’t deny it.

He had killed Qu Bushi in a straight fight. The fact that his cultivation had advanced into Bone Tempering could no longer be hidden.

“Sss!”

The Wen youth sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes full of amazement. He clasped his fists and asked, “If I may — how old is the Patrol Envoy?”

Geng Weizhi had been working alongside Shen Xiuhan for days now. He puffed out his chest, and his voice carried no small measure of pride. “The Patrol Envoy just turned seventeen!”

Seventeen years old. Bone Tempering.

The words sent a visible jolt of shock through every face present.

Ji Xue and Ji Yao exchanged an involuntary glance. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same astonishment.

This level of cultivation, even among the outer-gate disciples of Zhaixing Sect, would place him squarely in the top tier.

And given the combat prowess this Patrol Envoy had just displayed — cutting down the infamous Tenth Chief of Chenjian Wu, Qu Bushi, in open battle — his fighting instincts spoke for themselves.

At Wuji Academy, he would be qualified to serve as an instructor.

Ma Jinghang’s face cycled between green and white. He shrank behind the others, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to disappear into.

His Ma Trading House was nothing more than a well-to-do merchant family in Changyun County’s inner city. Their fleet amounted to four or five sandships, and counting both the dockworkers and the house guards, the entire operation barely numbered sixty or seventy men.

The head guard his family had spent a fortune retaining was an aging veteran at Initial Mastery of Bone Tempering, nearing fifty, his qi-blood in decline. He might not even be a match for an ordinary martial artist who had just entered Bone Tempering — let alone this young prodigy in the flower of his years, rising like the morning sun.

Ma Jinghang kept his head down, shrinking behind the group like a quail pulling its head into its shell. Every trace of his earlier competitive spirit had gone up in smoke.

The Wen youth, on the other hand, recovered his composure. He straightened his robes and spoke with genuine respect.

“Patrol Envoy Shen, this one is Wen Beng, of Changshui County. If I caused any offense earlier, I humbly beg the Patrol Envoy’s forgiveness.”

“No harm done.”

Shen Xiuhan waved it off, unbothered.

He turned and walked to Qu Bushi’s corpse, crouching down to search it.

Unfortunately, the haul was no different from what he’d found on Wang Neng and Sun Erniang.

All three bodies combined yielded barely a dozen or so taels in loose silver.

Not a single martial arts manual among them.

‘Of course. This is how it normally goes…’

Shen Xiuhan mused inwardly.

‘What kind of person brings technique manuals along on a mission?’

Just then, Geng Weizhi hobbled over, wincing with every step but with an eager gleam in his eyes. He cradled his injured arm with his good hand.

“Patrol Envoy, let me cut off this dog’s head. Qu Bushi’s got a thirty-tael bounty on him at the county yamen — posted plain as day!”

“Oh?”

Shen Xiuhan raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected this little windfall.

“Go ahead.”

“Sir!”

Geng Weizhi marched forward with relish.

Gritting his teeth against the screaming pain in his arm, he brought the blade down in one clean stroke, severed Qu Bushi’s head, wrapped it in cloth, and held it up. Satisfaction was written all over his face.

Just then, a fragrant breeze drifted over.

Ji Xue gathered her skirt and approached with light, careful steps, drawing close to Shen Xiuhan’s side. She spoke in a low voice.

“Patrol Envoy Shen… might I ask you not to submit Qu Bushi’s head to the county yamen?”

“Hm?”

Shen Xiuhan turned to look at her.

Ji Xue drew a deep breath and met his gaze squarely.

“What the Patrol Envoy may not know is that while the county yamen has placed a bounty on Chenjian Wu’s bandits, our Ji clan offers a far more generous reward.”

“If you deliver the head to our family, the bounty we pay will certainly exceed the yamen’s thirty taels. And beyond that… it would bring solace to the spirit of our late cousin Guannan.”

Understanding dawned on Shen Xiuhan’s face.

Of course.

Chenjian Wu and the Ji clan shared a blood feud. The head of a figure like the Tenth Chief was something the Ji clan would gladly pay a premium to acquire.

It would honor Ji Guannan’s memory and bolster the family’s prestige in one stroke — the best of both worlds.

Seeing the thoughtful look on Shen Xiuhan’s face, Ji Xue paused, then added with still greater gravity:

“Moreover… the fact that Patrol Envoy Shen single-handedly killed Qu Bushi should best be kept quiet.”

“Chenjian Wu repays every grudge. If they learn it was you who dealt the killing blow, there will be no end to their retaliation.”

“If the Patrol Envoy entrusts the head to our family, and Chenjian Wu ever traces today’s events, our Ji clan will step forward and bear the consequences in full.”

Shen Xiuhan heard her out. Something flickered in his gaze.

In the space of a breath, he weighed the costs and benefits, and gave a slow nod of agreement.

Then his eyes swept left and right. “And the people here…?”

Though young, Ji Xue was no fool. She caught his meaning at once and answered without hesitation.

“Rest assured, Brother Shen. They will know what to say and what not to say.”

The head secured, the party tidied up as best they could.

Shen Xiuhan surveyed the surroundings, his voice hard. “This place is dangerous. We can’t linger. Everyone aboard — we leave before dark!”

No one dared delay. They boarded the boat one after another.

The oars cut the water, and the vessel pulled steadily away from shore, soon vanishing into the vast, rolling mist.

…

At the far end of the wharf.

A middle-aged man in close-fitting martial attire drifted down from an old tree, silent as a falling leaf.

He stood with his hands behind his back beside Qu Bushi’s headless corpse, gazing into the distance where the black-canopied boat had disappeared. He stood motionless for a long time.

The river wind tugged at the hem of his jacket.

At last, he let out a long, slow breath. In the murmur that followed, barely audible, shock bled through despite every effort to contain it.

“What ruthless methods…”

“This young man… is truly formidable!”

“I must report to Elder Sister the moment I return. Our investment in this Shen Xiuhan needs to be raised considerably — we must ensure he gives his loyalty to our Ji clan!”

“Still…”

The middle-aged man turned his head, surveying the battle-scarred wharf and Qu Bushi’s headless remains, and let out a small sigh.

“He’s still young. Hasn’t learned to clean up a battlefield and cover his tracks…”

He planted one foot against the corpse and kicked it into the lake. The scent of blood diffused through the water, and within moments a swarm of fish and shrimp closed in.

Then his figure blurred, and he vanished.

…

Day two since Chenjian Wu’s Tenth Chief Qu Bushi lost his head.

Shen Xiuhan, Ma Jinghang, and the Wen youth took turns at the oar. By the time the West Market wharf came into distant view, dusk was already settling.

The moment they stepped ashore, several guards in Ji clan house colors were waiting at the dock.

Ji Xue and Ji Yao had barely set foot on the stone steps before they were ushered away in a swirl of attendants. Two small sedan chairs disappeared around the end of the lane.

Wen Beng clasped his fists in farewell and headed into the city to find an inn for the night, planning to set out for Changshui County first thing in the morning.

As for Ma Jinghang —

He had sat mute as a stone throughout the boat ride, and now he was nowhere to be seen. He must have slipped away at some point without anyone noticing.

Shen Xiuhan didn’t give it a second thought. He propped up Geng Weizhi and headed into the inner city.

He found a physician’s clinic. The old doctor first set Geng Weizhi’s broken bone, then spent a while examining the blade wound. He selected several medicinal herbs, ground them into a poultice, applied them, and wrapped the arm neatly in layer upon layer of white cloth.

Once the consultation was settled, Shen Xiuhan dug two ingots of silver from his coat — roughly five taels, all looted from Qu Bushi, Wang Neng, and the others — and held them out to Geng Weizhi.

“Absolutely not!”

Geng Weizhi waved his hands frantically, his voice urgent.

“I was nothing but dead weight this time — I even dragged the Patrol Envoy down…”

“Take it.”

Shen Xiuhan brooked no argument. He pressed the silver into Geng Weizhi’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Spend the next while getting well. I’ll handle the reports to the master’s house and the garrison commander myself. This silver is my gift to you — it doesn’t conflict with whatever the master’s house rewards you separately. Take it home, buy some meat, build your strength back up.”

Geng Weizhi’s lips moved several times. Something seemed to lodge in his throat.

He had spent years living on the knife’s edge. Saber wounds, broken arms — he’d borne them all without a sound.

Now, with those five taels of silver in his fist, his eyes reddened without warning. It was a long time before he managed a hoarse whisper.

“Thank you, Patrol Envoy…”