Chapter 106: Heavenly Mechanism

Entering the room, he found a sealed chamber inside, a candle lit, filling the air with pine scent, as the maid softly closed the door.

“What faction’s intelligence does the guest seek?”

A short, stout manager rose from behind a desk and bowed.

Jiang Ding sat down, hand on his sword hilt, and said softly: “I want intelligence on the Golden Knife Gate and other major factions in the martial world.”

“All intelligence on the Golden Knife Gate? Or just certain individuals?”

“All of it.”

“What level of intelligence does the guest require?”

The short, stout manager asked, then explained: “Intelligence is graded into Heaven, Earth, Mystery, and Earthly tiers. Heaven-tier intelligence requires century-old herbs and rare materials to obtain; below Heaven-tier, silver taels suffice.”

“Rare materials?”

“This piece of intelligence I’ll give you free,” said the manager. “It’s mineral ore capable of forging the sacred weapons of major sects—weapons far more potent than ordinary blades.”

Jiang Ding recalled the white sword in Wan Qianyu’s hand—it truly seemed capable of amplifying internal force.

“Earth-tier.”

“Price: twelve thousand taels. Payment must be verified first,” the manager bowed. “Forgive me—intelligence on major factions, even if not top-secret, commands this price. Intelligence on lone martial artists costs far less.”

Jiang Ding handed over two silver notes from the Four Seas Merchant Guild.

The short, stout manager carefully examined every detail of the notes before smiling: “Wait a moment, sir. I’ll bring you the intelligence personally. If you need anything, pull the red cord on the desk.”

Soon after, the squat manager returned with a team, carrying piles of books stacked to a man’s height and half a man’s width, making the chamber feel cramped.

“You may only read here—you cannot take them away. You may return within fifteen days to consult them, but you must not disseminate them anywhere, under any circumstances.”

He did not say what the consequences of dissemination would be, then stepped back and closed the door.

Jiang Ding picked up the first volume: *The Golden Knife Gate: From the 207th Year of the Yue Imperial Calendar*, and began flipping through it slowly.

The founding patriarch of the Golden Knife Gate was merely a wandering martial artist who one day encountered a Daoist priest grievously wounded. Moved by pity—or perhaps other reasons—he saved the priest. After recovering, the priest gifted him a cultivation technique and an elixir.

The technique was the pinnacle of its kind: *Golden Knife Soul-Slaying Art*, capable of reaching the Primordial Stage. The elixir, called Primordial Elixir, enabled inner qi-complete cultivators to break through to Primordial.

Thus the Golden Knife Gate rose to prominence. Over a hundred years later, its disciples had infiltrated every sector of the empire—military and civil service alike, with high-ranking officials emerging from its ranks.

Other major sects were much the same.

One could say that in the three hundred years of Yue, the realm was no longer the Chen imperial family’s alone—it was shared with the great sects. The emperor could no longer rule as he willed.

The sect’s strongest, the Golden Knife Ancestor, a mid-Primordial expert, had battle records…

Jiang Ding read slowly, going seven or eight hours without rest. Books piled up on one side, and he gained a comprehensive understanding of the Golden Knife Gate’s overt number of inner qi cultivators, the strength, personalities, and lineages of its major figures.

He turned to recent intelligence on the martial world.

“...Marquis Tang Wang secretly broke through to Primordial and plotted to declare himself emperor, sending letters to the Three Sects and Six Schools, proposing a new dynasty with a nine-rank system of noble houses and sects: the Three Sects and the imperial house ranked first, thereafter only members of the Three Sects and imperial house could hold first-rank civil or military posts; the Six Schools ranked second, with second-rank officials selected from their ranks...”

“...The Wolf God Sect’s Patriarch, the Wolf Lord, disapproved; several high-ranking generals from the Wolf God Sect showed signs of impending mutiny...”

“...The imperial house’s Primordial expert, ‘Mountain King’ Chen Wu, led the Yue Divine Iron Cavalry to garrison Chi Zhong Prefecture, awaiting an opportunity to crush the rebellion...”

After finishing the last volume and recording its contents into his microcomputer, Jiang Ding pulled the red cord.

“What does the guest require?”

The short, stout manager appeared, bowing.

“I need intelligence on three Golden Knife Gate disciples who returned to the sect within the past month—moderate rank, but utterly wicked.”

Said Jiang Ding.

The manager showed a flicker of surprise.

“This also counts as Golden Knife Gate intelligence—I’ll give it to you free.”

“Zheng Tu, inner qi perfected, inner-disciple of the Golden Knife Gate. He murdered the seventh-rank censor Zhou Jinzhong, who had impeached a senior Golden Knife Gate official, seized his home and family, devoured the hearts of young girls, taking one every two months...”

“Wu Kuang, inner qi perfected, inner-disciple of the Golden Knife Gate. Founded the Golden Knife Gate’s outer organization, ‘Hunting Flower Gate,’ kidnapping and abducting virtuous women to offer to sect elites, cultivating ties with imperial and major sect figures...”

“Zhou Di Ji...”

Jiang Ding walked silently through the bustling streets of Yue Capital, thinking of the three men’s records, sighing deeply.

“Too many deserve death... yet my sword is not sharp enough. The world cannot always conform to one’s will.”

Unconsciously, he arrived before a modest courtyard of green-tiled, blue-brick walls, bearing the sign “Zhou Residence.” The wooden door and tiles were old, dull, faded of their former luster.

Two martial artists guarded the entrance.

Jiang Ding did not trust the Heavenly Mechanism Tower outright—he spent time and silver visiting neighbors.

Zhou Jinzhong had indeed been an upright official, kind in demeanor. After his death, his elderly mother hanged herself; his wife and two daughters sought refuge with relatives, but were forced by Zheng Tu to remain confined indoors.

Zheng Tu came daily at first; lately, every five days, at irregular hours.

As for the government: countless high-ranking ministers and generals from the Golden Knife Sect held key posts—who would speak up for a dead censor who had overstepped his bounds?

They merely recorded Zhou Jinzhong’s death as caused by cold fever, and never again inquired.

Jiang Ding waited silently at a tea stall. Hours later, a middle-aged man with a mustache walked toward the Zhou residence.

“Greetings, Master Zheng!”

The two guards bowed deeply, heads low.

“Do your duty well—I won’t let you two down.”

Zheng Tu patted their shoulders, smiling as he entered the residence. Soon, screams and sobs echoed from within.

Jiang Ding sighed and walked toward the gate.

“Stop! What do you want?”

The two guards, neither even inner qi cultivators, eyed him warily, hands on their sword hilts, warning: “This is Golden Knife Gate property!”

“I’m here for vengeance.”

Jiang Ding grunted, drew his sword in one sweep, sheathed it again. Two guards collapsed, a thin red line appearing on their throats.

“Zheng Tu, you stole my woman years ago—today, retribution comes. Die!”

He kicked open the gate.

A man with a mustache chased three women of varying beauty.

His face changed. He drew a slender, thin blade, staring fixedly at the intruder: “Friend, I don’t know you. Did you make a mistake?”

“No mistake.”

Jiang Ding slashed at him—no flashy moves, only raw power and speed.

“You seek death!”

Zheng Tu roared, unleashing all his inner qi into his blade, striking three times in an instant—left, center, right—each slash blazing with light.

Flowing Gold Triple Slash!

Many in the Golden Knife Gate trained this superior sword technique. After ten years of practice, Zheng Tu was confident few in the sect surpassed him in its mastery.

He already envisioned the intruder’s head, chest, and waist severed.

*Clang!*

As blade met sword, Zheng Tu’s face twisted in shock and terror.

“Spare me! I’m of the Golden Knife Gate...”

In an instant, his three strikes were severed by a single sword. The bright blade pierced through his chest—he went dark, collapsing unconscious.

Jiang Ding seized his throat and dragged him behind.

He glanced at the three terrified women, tossed them a silver ingot, then pulled a large cloth over the unconscious Zheng Tu and carried him away swiftly.

(End of Chapter)