Chapter 75: Chapter Seventy-Five: Gift of the Jade Flute

“I… I…”

“Drip… drip…”

He Xiuniang couldn’t help raising her sleeve to cover her nose, “How disgusting!”

Gu Zhao stood up, slapped Liu Qingfeng across the face with an open palm, sending him tumbling to the ground, “Awake yet?”

“Awake, awake!” Liu Qingfeng immediately replied, then knelt and banged his head on the ground, “Young Master, spare my life! Young Lady, spare my life! The one who married Yuan Fu Ling is my aunt—this has nothing to do with me!”

Gu Zhao nodded with a smile, “You’re quite sharp—you know exactly whose shadow you’re under.”

Liu Qingfeng pleaded, “That Yuan Fu Ling—no, Yuan Wenrui—is a treacherous villain, a shameless scoundrel! When he first came to Changping Prefecture, he begged and pleaded just to marry my aunt; after linking up with the Golden Wind Sect, he took multiple concubines and severed ties with my Liu family.”

“Moreover, this man has a wolf’s gaze and an eagle’s stare, a serpent’s heart and a scorpion’s venom, preys on the people, treats human lives as grass, embezzles and perverts justice, and brings ruin to the state—how many innocent lives has he destroyed? Even nine deaths cannot atone for his crimes!”

“Though I’m a Liu family member, I have absolutely no connection to him—indeed… indeed, I hold a grudge against him, a deep grudge! He once cursed me terribly!”

He Xiuniang sneered, “You harbor such hatred over just one scolding? You’re truly petty.”

Liu Qingfeng protested, “But I did nothing! I didn’t seduce his concubines, didn’t steal his gold or silver—I merely wandered through the magistrate’s garden, saw him enter a secret chamber, and I didn’t even follow him in!”

“Hmm?” Gu Zhao’s eyes flickered, then he glanced at Zhuo Qingyan.

Zhuo Qingyan was a clever girl; she thought for a moment, then extended her jade hand and waved it gently before Liu Qingfeng’s face.

Her hand was slender, soft, pale and delicate—any other day, one might have played with it for two hours without tiring; but now, Liu Qingfeng felt every hair on his face stand on end, as if a chilling dampness had pierced his skin and seeped into his bones.

“Tell us everything you know about Yuan Wenrui—or else…” Zhuo Qingyan paused at the critical point.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Liu Qingfeng didn’t hesitate, didn’t even ask for a promise of mercy—he spilled everything like beans from a bamboo tube.

Though jumbled and disordered, he revealed every detail, even the idle gossip he’d overheard about his third concubine’s preferred position.

Gu Zhao clucked his tongue, “No wonder he’s associated with the Golden Wind Sect—this position is actually quite difficult.”

He Xiuniang lowered her head, Bugantaitou , while Zhuo Qingyan’s pale face turned slightly ashen.

After Liu Qingfeng spoke for a long while, they extracted the key points.

Yuan Wenrui arrived in Changping Prefecture thirty years ago with the deputy prefect, then went to study in Jiangyang Prefecture; twenty years ago, he returned with his appointment as prefect of Jiangzhou and took up the post of Changping Prefect, where he has remained ever since.

When Yuan Wenrui first became prefect, he had no base of power—he married a daughter of the powerful Liu family of Changping, then publicly endorsed the Golden Wind Divine Sect, thereby securing his position.

According to Liu Qingfeng, Yuan Wenrui is now over fifty, but he looks no more than thirty, full of vigor, with a ruddy complexion—rumored to have consumed pills offered by the Golden Wind Sect.

Whether Yuan Wenrui cultivates is unknown, but his residence does indeed house two great masters who protect him.

The final key point was the secret chamber where Yuan Wenrui had shouted at Liu Qingfeng—he hadn’t entered it, but not because he didn’t want to; he’d tried and been caught.

“I’d been drinking, and I was just curious!” Liu Qingfeng explained. “I didn’t actually go in!”

Yuan Wenrui’s secret chamber was neither in his bedroom nor his study—it was hidden in the garden’s rear courtyard.

“If he’d built it in his study, I wouldn’t have even seen it—how could I have gotten curious?” Liu Qingfeng felt deeply wronged.

Gu Zhao nodded. “That makes sense.”

Liu Qingfeng nodded eagerly, licked his lips, and asked hopefully, “I—I’ve told you everything. Can, can I go now?”

“Of course.” Gu Zhao nodded, patted Liu Qingfeng on the shoulder, “I’ll send you off right now.”

Liu Qingfeng’s eyes lit up, masking the malice beneath, his face breaking into a pure smile—then he heard Gu Zhao say, “Be a good man in your next life.”

“What?” Liu Qingfeng’s pupils shrank; he opened his mouth to beg—then his head throbbed, his vision went black, and he knew nothing more.

Looking at the fallen Liu Qingfeng, Gu Zhao took a deep breath. “Killing with magic is indeed simple.”

He had not used any spell—merely condensed his spiritual sense into a sharp spike of mental force, giving a slight prick to Liu Qingfeng’s brain and scattering his soul.

Daoist Yan Song rose. “The rain has stopped.”

Gu Zhao nodded. “Then let’s go.”

Moments later, a carriage departed from the dilapidated River God Shrine; a fire ignited in the side hall after the rain, swiftly burning it to collapse, burying the bodies of several wicked, evil-doers who had aided the tyrant.

…

“Liu Qingfeng was merely an ordinary man—he didn’t know the true strength of those two great masters,” Gu Zhao began summarizing. “And since Yuan Wenrui is allied with the Golden Wind Sect, there may be members of the sect inside the prefecture.”

“Also, there may be other Gaoshou inside,” Daoist Yan Song added. “The visible guards are decoys—the hidden ones are the real threat.”

Gu Zhao popped a sunflower seed He Xiuniang handed him and chuckled, “Changping Prefecture Ya —home to tigers and dragons!”

Zhuo Qingyan fell silent for a few breaths, about to speak—when Gu Zhao bowed to her. “Miss Zhuo, to deal with Yuan Wenrui, I’ll need your help—you’ll have to break your precepts.”

“Huh?” Zhuo Qingyan blinked in surprise.

Gu Zhao opened a side cabinet and pulled out a green jade flute. “If you play music on this flute, could you amplify its power?”

Zhuo Qingyan took the jade flute, slightly bewildered, and immediately sensed its spiritual power and mental resonance.

It was a magic treasure of spiritual nature.

Zhuo Qingyan’s eyes flickered; instinctively, she brought the flute to her lips and blew a single soft note—Gu Zhao and the others felt their souls tremble.

Zhuo Qingyan held the flute in her hand and looked deeply at Gu Zhao.

“Well?” Gu Zhao asked.

“A fine magic treasure,” Zhuo Qingyan softly caressed the jade flute.

“Good,” Gu Zhao nodded. “I’m tone-deaf—I couldn’t play it at all. Only you can fully unleash its power.”

Zhuo Qingyan pressed her lips together, raised the flute again, and a melody of tenderness and longing began to play, like spring rain, gently brushing over their hearts, stirring faint ripples.

The music ended, the notes lingered, echoing in the air.

Zhuo Qingyan put away the flute, gave a slight nod, and whispered, “Thank you, Brother Gu.”