Chapter 92: Chapter 92
Ji Ning stepped out in martial attire.
Behind him followed a young man in a cloud-patterned martial robe, his expression haughty.
Further back came six or seven broad-shouldered, barrel-chested men.
“Everyone!”
Ji Ning raised a hand, silencing the chatter. His voice was steady and carried far on the night wind.
“Tonight’s feast serves two purposes: to reward, and to fill our ranks. Scum like Lu Ya aren’t worth mourning. The master’s house has already assigned new Patrol Envoys and patrol guards to replace our losses…”
He turned his head and called out names.
“Chen Xu, Liu Cheng, Tian Sanming…”
“Here, sir!”
“You three are assigned to Squad A.”
“Yes, sir!”
Squad A had previously lost three patrol guards thanks to Lu Ya’s reckless provocations. In hindsight, that had clearly been deliberate sabotage — aimed at weakening Yunyi Island’s defenses.
“Lu Jie, Sun Xuanlang…”
“Here, sir!”
“You two will serve under Squads B and D respectively.”
“Yes, sir!”
“…Luo Feng.”
Ji Ning called one more name.
A tall, sharp-eyed youth stepped forward.
“Here, sir.”
“From now on, you’ll be…”
Ji Ning glanced around, his gaze ultimately settling on Shen Xiuhan.
“Patrol Envoy Shen — acceptable?”
He was asking for Shen Xiuhan’s opinion.
Luo Feng, along with the haughty young man standing behind Ji Ning, both looked momentarily surprised. Something flickered in their eyes.
Compared to the other squads, Ji Ning’s manner toward this Patrol Envoy Shen was noticeably more courteous.
A spark of anticipation lit in Luo Feng’s gaze.
The haughty young man, meanwhile, studied Shen Xiuhan with a long, appraising look, his expression loaded with meaning.
Meeting Ji Ning’s gaze, Shen Xiuhan clasped his fists. “Whatever the Garrison Commander decides.”
“Good!”
Ji Ning nodded with a smile and turned to Luo Feng. “You’ll serve henceforth under Patrol Envoy Shen in Squad C.”
“This subordinate obeys!”
“Mm.”
Ji Ning gave an approving nod. “Patrol Envoy Shen is exceptionally talented and strong. If you have any questions about the martial path, feel free to seek his guidance.”
“Yes, sir!”
Luo Feng approached Shen Xiuhan, lowered his head, and clasped his fists. His tone was respectful.
“Luo Feng, reporting for duty, Patrol Envoy!”
He had a pair of oversized hands, knuckles prominent, the web between thumb and forefinger thick with calluses — clearly the hands of someone who had put in serious work. Strapped across his back was a war saber wrapped in black cloth. Two small characters were engraved on the hilt:
Blood Shadow.
Shen Xiuhan gave a slight nod.
“Take a seat.”
Once Luo Feng sat down, Hu Zhi — who had arrived with Ruan Linhuan moments earlier — immediately poured him a bowl of wine and began introducing the other members of Squad C.
Then Ji Ning stepped aside, revealing the haughty young man behind him.
“This is Ji Yuande. He’s a distant relative of our Ji clan. From now on… he will assume the position of Squad A Patrol Envoy.”
As Ji Ning’s words fell, a smattering of polite acknowledgments rose from the gathering.
After all, the man was a Ji — and everyone here ate the Ji clan’s rice.
Ji Yuande, however, tilted his chin upward.
His gaze swept across the assembled faces with a faintly condescending air of inspection, as though reviewing subjects in his personal domain.
The display drew a slight frown from Ji Ning, but he said nothing more. He simply told the newcomers to get acquainted, then declared the feast open.
The atmosphere ignited at once.
Wine bowls clinked in a bright chorus, and the smoky fragrance of roasted meat drifted on the night breeze.
Shen Xiuhan had just torn off a piece of lamb leg — charred on the outside, tender within, juices running between his fingers — and hadn’t yet raised it to his mouth when his ears pricked. He looked up.
Ji Yuande was heading straight for him.
The man was perhaps in his early twenties, a year or two older than Shen Xiuhan.
His martial outfit was tailored to a close fit, cut from fine Shu brocade. He wore doeskin boots, and a long sword hung at his hip — the scabbard inlaid with green jade, the sword tassel swaying gently with each step.
From head to toe, every inch of him radiated a pampered, aristocratic arrogance.
He stopped in front of Shen Xiuhan, a smirk of amusement curling his lips.
“I’ve been hearing all about how Yunyi Island produced a young genius — someone who escaped Qu Bushi alive, even won over my two younger cousins… You do have a certain something about you.”
Escaped?
Won over?
What was this fool talking about?
Shen Xiuhan’s brow creased, barely perceptibly.
Before he could respond, Ji Yuande drew out his words in a lazy drawl.
“I hear Patrol Envoy Shen has broken through to Bone Tempering… What a coincidence — I’ve just entered Bone Tempering myself. In a few days, how about you and I have a little sparring match? Let’s see how the countryside’s version of Bone Tempering measures up against the main family’s pedigree.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the surrounding atmosphere dropped several degrees.
Several patrol guards from other squads froze with wine bowls halfway to their lips, stealing furtive glances at Shen Xiuhan’s face.
Yan Chuan, Hu Zhi, and the others all stiffened, instinctively starting to rise.
“Sit down.”
“Patrol Envoy…”
“Sit.”
“…Yes, sir.”
The two dropped back into their seats, faces tight with indignation.
Shen Xiuhan went right on chewing his lamb, not so much as lifting his eyelids.
He didn’t know why Ji Yuande had come looking for trouble out of nowhere, and he had no interest in finding out.
What he did know was this:
The man was green. He had never been through a life-or-death fight.
Just standing there, he was riddled with openings from head to toe.
Shen Xiuhan could think of at least ten ways to kill him inside three moves.
“You should thank yourself.” Shen Xiuhan finally spoke. His voice was flat.
“Hm?”
Ji Yuande’s brow knotted. Confusion and displeasure warred on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean? Thank myself for what?”
“Thank yourself for being surnamed Ji.”
Shen Xiuhan produced a handkerchief and wiped the grease from his fingers, one by one, taking his time.
“If you weren’t, you’d already be keeping Qu Bushi company.”
“…”
Ji Yuande stood gaping, as though it had never occurred to him that anyone would dare speak to him this way.
As a branch-line scion of the Ji clan, he had never mattered much.
But a few days ago, he’d had the good fortune to break through to Bone Tempering. At barely twenty years of age, with a real shot at Hidden Strength ahead of him, the family had suddenly taken notice. He’d been sent to Changyun County as a rising star.
There, in the bustling county seat, he had laid eyes on the two young ladies — Ji Xue and Ji Yao. Their beauty had utterly captivated him.
Yet every time he tried to get close, all he heard was the two sisters talking about some mud-legged nobody from the outer city.
Shen Xiuhan!
How brave and gallant he was!
Patrol Envoy Shen!
How remarkable and impressive!
The seed of jealousy had taken root.
So when he heard the family was recruiting a Bone Tempering fighter as Patrol Envoy for Yunyi Island, he had volunteered on the spot.
The move won the approval of Ji Wen, head of the Martial Hall.
He even heard that the head of the household herself, upon learning of it, had offered a word of praise:
“Young and promising. Willing to step up for the family. In a few years, he could take on household affairs.”
The implication was crystal clear to Ji Yuande.
With the household head’s approval, a seat at the upper table was all but guaranteed.
And now, some hired hand eating the family’s scraps dared talk to him like this?
Have you forgotten what you are?
Ji Yuande’s face went the color of liver. His right hand slammed down on his sword hilt.
“You’re asking for death!”
“Ahem!”
From nearby, Ji Ning cleared his throat.
The blade-cold sweep of his gaze pinned Ji Yuande in place, freezing him mid-motion.
‘Slave-dog’s whelp, risen to power, and he dares act wild before me… Just you wait. In a few years, once I’ve risen, I’ll petition the household head to strip the Ji from your name — yours and your father’s both!’
‘Slave-dogs… should stay slave-dogs for life!’