Chapter 64
: This painting has a very high artistic value...
As the group set off, Yang Xu glanced at the Confucian scholars on horseback and noticed that although they were wearing long robes and had bamboo slips hanging from their waists, their riding postures were very steady. Several young Confucian scholars were even exchanging tips on horseback riding techniques.
He was somewhat surprised.
"Confucian disciples can all ride horses? I thought they only knew how to read and paint. I spent two days at the academy last time and watched them chanting scriptures in the lecture hall every day. I didn't expect them to be so good at mounting horses."
Just as Master Meng was about to speak, Xu Xian chuckled softly.
"The six arts of a gentleman are rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. Riding and archery are also basic skills, so naturally they must be learned. Do you think Confucian disciples are all bookworms?"
"If a real fight breaks out, their incantation-enhanced abilities combined with mounted archery will make them just as lethal as our Black Cavalry Guards from the Inspection Division..."
"I fought alongside Miss Jun in the Sima Mansion. Her words of power could double my combat strength within ten breaths. Without her, I would have perished back then. Old Yang, don't underestimate scholars."
Yang Xu looked at Jun Jingyan with some skepticism. Jun Jingyan was riding her horse, looking straight ahead. The wind blew the tassels on the bamboo scroll at her waist, and she was as steady as a white jade statue.
Xu Xian remembered something and turned his head to ask Master Meng what level he was at now, and whether he could withstand an assassination attempt.
Last time at Luoxia Lake, that fake Mo was actually a Golden Body Realm cultivator. Hua Xi had to exert a lot of effort to force him back. Now that Hua Xi is injured, if she encounters a Golden Body Realm cultivator again, she can only run away.
Master Meng smiled slightly.
"I am of dull mind and have only been a fourth-rank Confucian scholar for a hundred years. Although I cannot be compared with the sages of the Three Dynasties, I can deal with some petty villains without any problem."
"If an assassin comes, I dare not say I will win, but I will be able to protect everyone present."
Xu Xian felt relieved and took out his water pouch from his bosom to take a sip. Before he could screw the cap back on, Master Meng suddenly uttered the word "Ji".
A pale golden light flew from his chest and landed on the hooves of each horse. The horses raised their heads and neighed in unison, their hooves flying as they galloped along the official road toward the capital. Their speed was at least 30% faster than usual, yet they showed no signs of fatigue.
"The horse is so fast!"
Hua Xi shouted excitedly from her horseback. The tortoise poked its head out from her arms, its beady eyes narrowed into slits by the wind.
Master Meng stroked his beard and smiled.
"At this rate, we will arrive in the capital in less than seven days."
...
Quzhou, Jincheng Prefecture.
The streets were lined with stalls of all kinds, selling steamed buns, straw sandals, bamboo crafts, and dog-skin plasters, with shouts rising and falling.
Under a large locust tree on the street corner, there was a painting stall. The stall owner was a middle-aged man with half of his hair turned white. He was wearing a faded blue cloth long gown with frayed cuffs.
He was holding a pen, slowly drawing a door god. The pen tip moved across the paper, and a fierce and lifelike door god gradually took shape.
His business was slow, though; not a single person would come to inquire about prices for half a day.
Before long, a young man finally walked up to the painting stall, squatted down, and looked through the finished paintings on the stall.
He picked up a landscape painting and examined it carefully for a while, then put it down. Next, he picked up a painting of court ladies and looked at it. Finally, he looked at the newly painted door gods.
"This painting has a very high artistic value..."
The stall owner put down his pen and grinned.
"The boss knows his stuff. This painting is top-quality, and the paper used isn't ordinary either; it's old Xuan paper from Jing County, which won't yellow even after hundreds of years..."
"However, I only sell rough work here, just some casual paintings, nothing fancy. If you want this door god painting, it'll cost you thirty coins, all wrapped up."
The young man chuckled, took a copper coin from his sleeve, and tossed it over.
The copper coin tumbled a few times in the air before landing on the painting stall, making a much deeper sound than ordinary copper coins.
The stall owner took the copper coin, bent down to carefully feel it, then picked it up and examined it against the sunlight. The smile on his face faded slightly.
"Fine Dafeng coins are rare indeed. This gift is too generous, young master. A few paintings I paint wouldn't be worth that much."
"Qingzhou failed in their job; the butcher is gone."
The young man squatted in front of the painting stall, without getting up.
"The target is Xu Xian from the Inspection Department. He will arrive in Jincheng in one day, accompanied by Master Meng from Zhengxin Academy and some Confucian disciples. It's too late to send more people. Fourth Young Master, please block them outside Jincheng."
The stall owner somersaulted the Dafeng coin between his fingertips, then tucked it into his sleeve and shook his head.
"Young master flatters me. I'm just a painter. I can paint door gods to hang on the door for protection, but you want me to confront people? Master Meng is a great Confucian scholar. How could my meager skills possibly surpass his?"
"Even a fourth-rank cultivator is not strong enough. No one is asking you to go head-to-head with Master Meng. Just hold him off for a while and keep him busy. Killing Xu Xian and the other three will only require a few cultivators at the Meridian Opening Realm."
The stall owner was silent for a moment, then pulled out a scroll from the pile of calligraphy and paintings.
He placed the scroll on the table, then picked up the door god painting he had just finished, dipped the tip of his brush in the paint dish, held his breath and stared intently, before adding two dots to the eyes of the door god.
The door gods were imbued with a soul; their large, copper-bell-like eyes seemed to follow people around.
The stall owner's face turned pale for no apparent reason, as if a layer of blood had been drained from him.
He exhaled a breath of stale air, opened the scroll beside him, picked up a pen and added a few strokes, his face paled again, as if he had aged ten years.
The stall owner gritted his teeth as he picked up the pen and placed it on the pen holder, then tremblingly handed him the two paintings.
"One Dafeng coin will only get you one Hundred Battles Map, a peak Qi Refining skill leading troops, and a hundred Meridian Opening Realm warriors. I'll also throw in a door god warding off evil. That should be more than enough to get things done. If you still can't do it, don't blame me!"
The young man took the scroll and unfolded it to look at it.
The painting depicts a troop of armored soldiers, their armor gleaming, their swords and spears like a forest. Leading them is a general on horseback, wielding a crescent-shaped blade. His face is blurred, but his imposing presence is palpable. The entire painting subtly exudes a chilling aura.
He rolled up the painting and put it in his bosom, then picked up the door god painting, folded it, put it in his sleeve, and turned to leave.
The stall owner raised his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
"That ten thousand taels of silver was a terrible loss..."
...
They traveled for four days straight, but the official road was calm and peaceful, and they didn't see a single thief.
As Xu Xian rode on his horse, the Eight-Sided Sword resting across his knees, his nerves, which had been tense for many days, finally relaxed a little.
He glanced back at the vast Confucian procession behind him, grinned at Mencius,
"It seems that Hao Zailai knows how formidable Master Meng is and dares not come again."
Yang Xu carried the newly bought knife on his shoulder. His goose-feather knife by Luoxia Lake had been broken in two by Wang Yanni. He had bought this one temporarily at a blacksmith shop he passed by in the last city for five taels of silver.
"Tsk, if it weren't for the Confucian school's help, we probably would have died in Qingzhou. We owe the academy several lives. When we get back, I have to treat Master Meng to a drink... although it seems the Confucian school doesn't allow drinking."
Xu Xian also felt a bit emotional.
From the Iron Gate Pass to the capital, from the capital to Qingzhou, and from Qingzhou to now, the entire journey has been filled with either investigating cases or being hunted down...
Luck accounts for 30% of his survival, his own ability accounts for 30%, and the remaining 40% is all thanks to the people around him who helped him through it all.
At this moment, he was incredibly grateful for the deal he made with Hua Xi; the little girl was practically his talisman!
...
On the afternoon of the fifth day, the hills on both sides of the official road gradually leveled out, and ahead lay a wide valley.
Xu Xian suddenly reined in his horse and squinted slightly as he looked ahead.
About a hundred paces ahead, a group of armored soldiers stood in neat rows in the middle of the official road, their armor gleaming and their weapons like a forest, numbering about a hundred.
The leader rode a tall horse, holding a crescent-shaped blade horizontally in his hand, the blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
The soldiers stood motionless, without flags or horns, and even their horses didn't snort; they stood like a row of statues.
Yang Xu spurred his horse forward, frowning as he spoke.
"Where did these soldiers come from? The armor style is wrong; the patterns on the shoulder and breastplates aren't from Yasukuni. Where the hell did they come from?"
Xu Xian squinted at them, raised his hand to signal everyone to stop, and said loudly,
"This is the Inspection Department! Which unit are you from, and why are you stopping us?"
No one answered.
The leader slowly raised his crescent blade and slashed downwards.
A hundred or so armored soldiers simultaneously unleashed a deafening battle cry, their hooves thundering and dust billowing as the entire force charged forward like a tidal wave.
Master Meng frowned, about to speak, when he suddenly looked up at the sky.
A huge shadow crashed down from mid-air.
A demon god nearly ten feet tall landed heavily behind the group, wielding a nine-ringed broadsword with nine copper rings jingling on the back of the blade.
It was entirely black, with bulging muscles and a face that resembled a fierce god.
The nine-ringed broadsword slashed down, the wind from the blade pressing down the wild grass on both sides of the official road.
He was somewhat surprised.
"Confucian disciples can all ride horses? I thought they only knew how to read and paint. I spent two days at the academy last time and watched them chanting scriptures in the lecture hall every day. I didn't expect them to be so good at mounting horses."
Just as Master Meng was about to speak, Xu Xian chuckled softly.
"The six arts of a gentleman are rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. Riding and archery are also basic skills, so naturally they must be learned. Do you think Confucian disciples are all bookworms?"
"If a real fight breaks out, their incantation-enhanced abilities combined with mounted archery will make them just as lethal as our Black Cavalry Guards from the Inspection Division..."
"I fought alongside Miss Jun in the Sima Mansion. Her words of power could double my combat strength within ten breaths. Without her, I would have perished back then. Old Yang, don't underestimate scholars."
Yang Xu looked at Jun Jingyan with some skepticism. Jun Jingyan was riding her horse, looking straight ahead. The wind blew the tassels on the bamboo scroll at her waist, and she was as steady as a white jade statue.
Xu Xian remembered something and turned his head to ask Master Meng what level he was at now, and whether he could withstand an assassination attempt.
Last time at Luoxia Lake, that fake Mo was actually a Golden Body Realm cultivator. Hua Xi had to exert a lot of effort to force him back. Now that Hua Xi is injured, if she encounters a Golden Body Realm cultivator again, she can only run away.
Master Meng smiled slightly.
"I am of dull mind and have only been a fourth-rank Confucian scholar for a hundred years. Although I cannot be compared with the sages of the Three Dynasties, I can deal with some petty villains without any problem."
"If an assassin comes, I dare not say I will win, but I will be able to protect everyone present."
Xu Xian felt relieved and took out his water pouch from his bosom to take a sip. Before he could screw the cap back on, Master Meng suddenly uttered the word "Ji".
A pale golden light flew from his chest and landed on the hooves of each horse. The horses raised their heads and neighed in unison, their hooves flying as they galloped along the official road toward the capital. Their speed was at least 30% faster than usual, yet they showed no signs of fatigue.
"The horse is so fast!"
Hua Xi shouted excitedly from her horseback. The tortoise poked its head out from her arms, its beady eyes narrowed into slits by the wind.
Master Meng stroked his beard and smiled.
"At this rate, we will arrive in the capital in less than seven days."
...
Quzhou, Jincheng Prefecture.
The streets were lined with stalls of all kinds, selling steamed buns, straw sandals, bamboo crafts, and dog-skin plasters, with shouts rising and falling.
Under a large locust tree on the street corner, there was a painting stall. The stall owner was a middle-aged man with half of his hair turned white. He was wearing a faded blue cloth long gown with frayed cuffs.
He was holding a pen, slowly drawing a door god. The pen tip moved across the paper, and a fierce and lifelike door god gradually took shape.
His business was slow, though; not a single person would come to inquire about prices for half a day.
Before long, a young man finally walked up to the painting stall, squatted down, and looked through the finished paintings on the stall.
He picked up a landscape painting and examined it carefully for a while, then put it down. Next, he picked up a painting of court ladies and looked at it. Finally, he looked at the newly painted door gods.
"This painting has a very high artistic value..."
The stall owner put down his pen and grinned.
"The boss knows his stuff. This painting is top-quality, and the paper used isn't ordinary either; it's old Xuan paper from Jing County, which won't yellow even after hundreds of years..."
"However, I only sell rough work here, just some casual paintings, nothing fancy. If you want this door god painting, it'll cost you thirty coins, all wrapped up."
The young man chuckled, took a copper coin from his sleeve, and tossed it over.
The copper coin tumbled a few times in the air before landing on the painting stall, making a much deeper sound than ordinary copper coins.
The stall owner took the copper coin, bent down to carefully feel it, then picked it up and examined it against the sunlight. The smile on his face faded slightly.
"Fine Dafeng coins are rare indeed. This gift is too generous, young master. A few paintings I paint wouldn't be worth that much."
"Qingzhou failed in their job; the butcher is gone."
The young man squatted in front of the painting stall, without getting up.
"The target is Xu Xian from the Inspection Department. He will arrive in Jincheng in one day, accompanied by Master Meng from Zhengxin Academy and some Confucian disciples. It's too late to send more people. Fourth Young Master, please block them outside Jincheng."
The stall owner somersaulted the Dafeng coin between his fingertips, then tucked it into his sleeve and shook his head.
"Young master flatters me. I'm just a painter. I can paint door gods to hang on the door for protection, but you want me to confront people? Master Meng is a great Confucian scholar. How could my meager skills possibly surpass his?"
"Even a fourth-rank cultivator is not strong enough. No one is asking you to go head-to-head with Master Meng. Just hold him off for a while and keep him busy. Killing Xu Xian and the other three will only require a few cultivators at the Meridian Opening Realm."
The stall owner was silent for a moment, then pulled out a scroll from the pile of calligraphy and paintings.
He placed the scroll on the table, then picked up the door god painting he had just finished, dipped the tip of his brush in the paint dish, held his breath and stared intently, before adding two dots to the eyes of the door god.
The door gods were imbued with a soul; their large, copper-bell-like eyes seemed to follow people around.
The stall owner's face turned pale for no apparent reason, as if a layer of blood had been drained from him.
He exhaled a breath of stale air, opened the scroll beside him, picked up a pen and added a few strokes, his face paled again, as if he had aged ten years.
The stall owner gritted his teeth as he picked up the pen and placed it on the pen holder, then tremblingly handed him the two paintings.
"One Dafeng coin will only get you one Hundred Battles Map, a peak Qi Refining skill leading troops, and a hundred Meridian Opening Realm warriors. I'll also throw in a door god warding off evil. That should be more than enough to get things done. If you still can't do it, don't blame me!"
The young man took the scroll and unfolded it to look at it.
The painting depicts a troop of armored soldiers, their armor gleaming, their swords and spears like a forest. Leading them is a general on horseback, wielding a crescent-shaped blade. His face is blurred, but his imposing presence is palpable. The entire painting subtly exudes a chilling aura.
He rolled up the painting and put it in his bosom, then picked up the door god painting, folded it, put it in his sleeve, and turned to leave.
The stall owner raised his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
"That ten thousand taels of silver was a terrible loss..."
...
They traveled for four days straight, but the official road was calm and peaceful, and they didn't see a single thief.
As Xu Xian rode on his horse, the Eight-Sided Sword resting across his knees, his nerves, which had been tense for many days, finally relaxed a little.
He glanced back at the vast Confucian procession behind him, grinned at Mencius,
"It seems that Hao Zailai knows how formidable Master Meng is and dares not come again."
Yang Xu carried the newly bought knife on his shoulder. His goose-feather knife by Luoxia Lake had been broken in two by Wang Yanni. He had bought this one temporarily at a blacksmith shop he passed by in the last city for five taels of silver.
"Tsk, if it weren't for the Confucian school's help, we probably would have died in Qingzhou. We owe the academy several lives. When we get back, I have to treat Master Meng to a drink... although it seems the Confucian school doesn't allow drinking."
Xu Xian also felt a bit emotional.
From the Iron Gate Pass to the capital, from the capital to Qingzhou, and from Qingzhou to now, the entire journey has been filled with either investigating cases or being hunted down...
Luck accounts for 30% of his survival, his own ability accounts for 30%, and the remaining 40% is all thanks to the people around him who helped him through it all.
At this moment, he was incredibly grateful for the deal he made with Hua Xi; the little girl was practically his talisman!
...
On the afternoon of the fifth day, the hills on both sides of the official road gradually leveled out, and ahead lay a wide valley.
Xu Xian suddenly reined in his horse and squinted slightly as he looked ahead.
About a hundred paces ahead, a group of armored soldiers stood in neat rows in the middle of the official road, their armor gleaming and their weapons like a forest, numbering about a hundred.
The leader rode a tall horse, holding a crescent-shaped blade horizontally in his hand, the blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
The soldiers stood motionless, without flags or horns, and even their horses didn't snort; they stood like a row of statues.
Yang Xu spurred his horse forward, frowning as he spoke.
"Where did these soldiers come from? The armor style is wrong; the patterns on the shoulder and breastplates aren't from Yasukuni. Where the hell did they come from?"
Xu Xian squinted at them, raised his hand to signal everyone to stop, and said loudly,
"This is the Inspection Department! Which unit are you from, and why are you stopping us?"
No one answered.
The leader slowly raised his crescent blade and slashed downwards.
A hundred or so armored soldiers simultaneously unleashed a deafening battle cry, their hooves thundering and dust billowing as the entire force charged forward like a tidal wave.
Master Meng frowned, about to speak, when he suddenly looked up at the sky.
A huge shadow crashed down from mid-air.
A demon god nearly ten feet tall landed heavily behind the group, wielding a nine-ringed broadsword with nine copper rings jingling on the back of the blade.
It was entirely black, with bulging muscles and a face that resembled a fierce god.
The nine-ringed broadsword slashed down, the wind from the blade pressing down the wild grass on both sides of the official road.