Chapter Thirty-Six: Extraordinary Measures

Jiang Liunian sat in a teahouse not far away, gazing out the window with a teacup in hand, his expression thoughtful. He had escorted the river bandits into the city, deliberately making the affair known to all. His true intention was to force the Prefect of Jinhua to reveal himself, so he might discern the man's true character.

But what he hadn't expected was such ruthlessness—this man acted with a decisiveness beyond compare, showing not the slightest concern for the lives of his own subordinates. Such uncharacteristic behavior only piqued Jiang Liunian's curiosity further. A man with the bearing of a true warlord, yet content to remain merely a prefect in a single territory—surely he harbored far greater ambitions.

He glanced out the window, noting the dusk closing in. There was still an hour until nightfall—just enough time to prepare. Should confrontation come, he might not match a true martial grandmaster. But once darkness fell, with the secrecy of the Paper Man Technique, infiltrating the Zhang estate to investigate would pose no great challenge.

...

By the moat, Liu Xiyue had just returned from the Chisong Daoist Palace, riding her fine steed at a leisurely pace along the official road, her mind adrift. The events of the past two days felt dreamlike and unreal. That scene by the spiritual spring, when the flowers bloomed in an instant, had left an indelible mark on her heart.

Were these the legendary arts of the immortals, some vista beyond the martial path? Did her father know of such means? The small stone she had found as a child by the Bright Moon Lake—could it truly have been a token of immortal fate?

Lost in her thoughts, she found herself at the city gate before she knew it.

“Halt! Routine inspection!” a soldier shouted, barring her horse's way.

“Insolence! This is Miss Liu, a distinguished guest of our young master! Let her pass at once!” A stern rebuke snapped Liu Xiyue from her reverie.

A garrison captain was loudly chastising the soldier who had stopped her. Then, with a sycophantic smile, he hurried over. “Miss Liu, please forgive us. That brother just transferred here from outside the city—if he was discourteous, I beg your pardon.”

Looking up, Liu Xiyue saw the city gate was crowded with guards, stopping and inspecting each passerby. Among them, several men exuded a deep, steady presence; their eyes gleamed with intelligence. Clearly, they were experts at the Qi Channeling level, standing atop the walls, scanning the crowds.

She frowned. “Has something happened in the city? Why such martial law?”

“Miss Liu, recently a notorious criminal named Jiang Liunian appeared in the city. The Prefect has ordered us to apprehend him at all costs, so the commander set us to these inspections,” the captain replied hurriedly.

“What? Jiang Liunian?” Liu Xiyue asked in surprise.

The captain nodded and produced a portrait of a young man, which he unfolded for her.

The painting was clearly the work of a master—the youth’s unrestrained charm leapt vividly from the page.

Liu Xiyue recognized him instantly: this was the same enigmatic Mr. Jiang she had met at the Chisong Daoist Palace. Though they had only met by chance, anyone who could debate the Dao with Master Yuchen could hardly be the villain described.

No! There must be some misunderstanding here—she couldn't let Uncle Zhang arrest an innocent man. She needed to go to the Zhang estate and get to the bottom of this.

With that, Liu Xiyue hurried off into the city, heading for the Zhang residence.

...

In the study of the Zhang estate, Zhang Zongcheng sat at the main desk, reviewing the latest documents submitted to him. His scholarly bearing was that of a refined, distinguished gentleman of middle age—one would never guess at his profound martial prowess.

But Zhang Niankang, standing nearby, knew his second uncle’s true nature. Even in his youth, his uncle had been famed across Jingzhou for his mastery of both civil and martial arts. Had he not offended the Imperial Preceptor and been exiled to this remote post, he would likely have reached the highest ranks of government by now.

“Niankang, have a look at this,” came a calm yet commanding voice, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked up to see his uncle indicating a document on the desk, signaling for him to open it.

Niankang dared not hesitate and quickly complied. After only a brief glance, he was rendered speechless by shock.

“This... Drought in Jiangzhou, flooding in Lanzhou, and the Moon Worship cult reappearing in Gunzhou? These are signs of chaos in the realm!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

Yet Zhang Zongcheng’s face remained composed, betraying no emotion. Only when his nephew had calmed himself did he speak slowly, “What do you see in all this?”

Niankang paused, then frowned in thought. After a long while, inspiration struck him. “Opportunity!” he blurted out.

A trace of approval flickered in Zhang Zongcheng’s eyes. He nodded. “Indeed. The world is now ruled by traitors—how many officials like myself languish, unable to serve the nation! We are full of loyal ambition, yet have no way to act on it.”

“But as the saying goes, only after great chaos can there be great order. The coming turmoil is our chance to achieve merit and distinction.”

Niankang nodded, somewhat understanding.

Zhang Zongcheng clasped his hands behind his back. “Prince Weiling is a man of virtue, preparing to purge the court of corruption and set the world right. The great enterprise is nearly upon us. This is the Zhang family’s opportunity—these next few years will decide if we rise or fall.”

Most of the secret missives on his desk had been sent by agents of Prince Weiling. Otherwise, even as a prefect, he would have no access to such top-secret information.

Zhang Niankang was so stirred by his uncle’s words that he wished he could raise an army and rebel that very moment.

Just then, a knock sounded at the study door.

“Prefect, your subordinate has a report.”

“Come in,” Zhang Zongcheng replied coolly.

Only his most trusted aides were permitted to report matters in the study, so he did not fear being overheard.

Once granted entry, the man entered and saluted respectfully. “Prefect, Miss Liu Xiyue has just returned from Chisong Daoist Palace and is on her way here.”

Niankang’s face lit up. “Xiyue is back? Where is she? I’ll go greet her!”

A cold snort, like a blast of wintry wind, cut him off. It was as if a bucket of cold water had extinguished the fire in his heart. He knew at once his uncle was displeased.

“So impulsive—how can you achieve greatness?” came the unrelenting rebuke.

The chief of the covert guards bowed his head deeply, doing his best to make himself invisible, not daring to look up.

Niankang, too, dared not utter another word, standing frozen in place like a quail.

“You may leave. When Liu Xiyue arrives, settle her in the guest quarters and have the kitchen prepare a banquet,” Zhang Zongcheng ordered, waving the guard away.

The man escaped as if pardoned, thoughtfully closing the door behind Niankang as he left.

Turning back, Zhang Zongcheng admonished his nephew mercilessly, “She is but a woman—how can she compare to the grand designs before us? Is your ambition so small?”

Niankang bowed his head. “I was wrong. I only wished to marry my junior sister soon, so I could better assist you in your great cause.”

Another cold snort from Zhang Zongcheng. He knew his nephew’s temperament all too well, but what could he do? The Zhang family had but this one heir.

He spoke flatly, “According to our original plan, you could have taken your time courting her. But now, things have changed. With the great enterprise at hand, you must secure her at once—only then can she be of use.”

“But... although Xiyue is fond of me, it hasn’t reached that stage yet,” Niankang protested with a bitter smile.

“In extraordinary times, extraordinary means are called for. As long as she bears your child, not even that old fox Liu Zichu will be able to object,” Zhang Zongcheng replied with a faint smile.

Niankang was left utterly speechless.