Chapter 674: Ying Kingdom Delegation

After the night banquet at the Governor‑General's Mansion, Mao Dequan packed his belongings through the night and, without waiting for dawn, hurried out of Tianzhou City.

In the following days, the atmosphere in Tianzhou City seemed completely ignited by something.

Qiao Zhenyu's name became the most talked‑about topic in every street and alley; storytellers in tea houses and taverns repeatedly recounted his defeat of Chi Tian Yi Lang in the arena and his direct clash with two Heavenly Person Peak guards of Prince Fu at the Governor‑General's Mansion, each retelling drawing cheers from the crowd.

Some compared him to the hope for the revival of Tianzhou Martial Arts, some called him the Imperial Northern Border's anchor, and some even shouted "Governor Qiao," as if that position already belonged to no one but him.

Joint petitions from the major families and martial halls of Tianzhou were sent out, stamped with bright red seals and handprints, requesting the Emperor to reappoint the Governor of Tianzhou and dismiss Du Jianchuan.

Those petitions fluttered toward Kyoto like snowflakes; although no one knew whether they would reach the Emperor's desk, the public sentiment surged like a tide, shattering the decades‑long foundation the Du Family had built in Tianzhou.

Du Jianchuan locked himself in the study of the Governor‑General's Mansion, staying inside from morning till night.

The servants walked on tiptoes and dared not speak loudly.

The great families of Tianzhou, which had previously kept ties with the Du Family, this time tacitly chose silence; no one visited, no one sent greetings, as if the Governor‑General's Mansion had become an isolated island overnight.

Yet despite the swirling rumors, Qiao Zhenyu himself remained extremely low‑key.

He even scarcely visited the Military Affairs Office.

He left his home at daybreak each day, stepping through the morning mist across half of Tianzhou City, arriving punctually at the gate of the two‑story, single‑family Lin Family Compound.

Each time he came, he stood properly beneath the phoenix tree in the courtyard, waiting.

When Jiang Feng pushed open the second‑floor window and nodded at him, he hurried inside and began his day's cultivation.

The weather was fine; sunlight filtered through the gaps in the phoenix leaves, scattering a carpet of broken gold across the courtyard.

Qiao Zhenyu shed his coat, wore a fitted short jacket, stood in the courtyard center, legs shoulder‑width apart, body slightly lowered, delivering a series of vigorous fists.

Each of his punches carried a steady force; the Fist Wind hissed low in the air, lifting several fallen phoenix leaves on the Green Stone Slab into a few spirals.

But after less than the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn, a voice with a hint of laziness came from the second‑floor window.

"Young disciple, your punches are too soft and feeble."

Qiao Zhenyu halted his movement and looked up toward the second floor.

Jiang Feng leaned against the window frame, his gaze fixed on the direction Qiao Zhenyu had just punched, a faint, half‑smile curving his mouth.

Qiao Zhenyu gave no rebuttal, properly withdrew his fists, hands hanging at his sides, head slightly lowered, his tone bearing the respect a student shows a teacher.

"Please, Uncle Teacher, give me guidance."

Jiang Feng leisurely descended from the second floor, walked into the courtyard, stopped before Qiao Zhenyu, gave him a quick look, and gently pressed his fingertip against the outer side of Qiao Zhenyu's right elbow.

"Your punch's power originates from here."

His finger moved to the shoulder, then to the side of the waist.

"Your stance is off by half an inch, and the force dissipates by thirty percent. It should have struck the opponent's chest, but it only reached the shoulder. Against weaker opponents you might not notice, but when facing a true master, this deviation decides victory or defeat."

Qiao Zhenyu glanced at his right arm, then tried raising his hand to mimic the motion in the air, readjusted his starting posture according to Jiang Feng's instructions, and delivered a punch.

This time the Fist Wind was noticeably more refined; the lifted leaves hovered briefly in mid‑air before flying forward together, landing farther away.

Jiang Feng watched, gave a slight nod, and seemed to approve.

As Qiao Zhenyu's mouth was about to show a hint of a smile, a frantic clatter of footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate.

Lin Zhenshan's figure appeared at the gate, bent over, panting, his face a mix of anxiety and tension, and his trembling voice shouted, "It's bad! It's bad!"

Jiang Feng and Qiao Zhenyu both turned their heads to look at him.

Qiao Zhenyu's gaze shifted from prior concentration to a sharp alertness.

"What's wrong? Is that old dog Chi Tian Yi Lang back again?"

Lin Zhenshan waved his hands repeatedly, finally catching his breath, and steadied himself against the doorframe.

"Not Chi Tian Yi Lang! A delegation from the Ying Kingdom has arrived, saying they are on a mission to Tianzhou. The Governor‑General's Mansion has already received them; Du Jianchuan sent a messenger asking you to go quickly!"

Qiao Zhenyu's brows knit slightly.

Ying Kingdom delegation?

Chi Tian Yi Lang had just been driven away, and now a delegation shows up—this timing is too coincidental.

He glanced at Jiang Feng, who said lightly,

"Let's go, together we'll take a look."

Qiao Zhenyu was stunned for a moment, then nodded.

The two walked out of the Lin Family Compound, one after the other, through the now bustling streets, heading toward the Governor‑General's Mansion.

The grand doors of the Governor‑General's Mansion stood open; the gatekeeper, seeing Qiao Zhenyu arrive, hurried forward to greet him.

"Commander Qiao, you finally arrived! Governor Du has been sitting with the Ying Kingdom delegation in the main hall for quite a while; we've urged him many times."

Qiao Zhenyu gave a hum, stepped over the threshold.

Jiang Feng followed behind, walked along the green‑brick passage, through successive courtyards, and arrived at the main hall entrance.

Du Jianchuan sat in the main seat, dressed in a brand‑new dark‑green official robe, his face bearing the polished smile typical of a court official.

Opposite him sat several people dressed in Ying Kingdom attire.

At the head was an elder wearing a deep‑blue kimono.

His hair was silver‑white, meticulously combed; his face was slender, high cheekbones, eyes slightly narrowed as if smiling, but behind those narrowed slits glimmered a cold light that made Qiao Zhenyu instinctively tighten his spine.

Behind the elder stood two attendants in white samurai garments, swords at their waists, expressionless.

The moment Qiao Zhenyu entered the main hall, the elder's gaze turned toward him. Those narrowed eyes lingered on Qiao Zhenyu for a moment, then slid half a step behind him, settling on Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng entered the main hall without stopping, casually chose a side seat and sat down.

Du Jianchuan saw Jiang Feng had also arrived; his smile stiffened slightly, but quickly returned to normal.

He rose, and bowed his hand toward Qiao Zhenyu.

"Commander Qiao has arrived, please be seated. Let me introduce you: this is the Zhongcun head of the Shinto Munenryu of the Ying Kingdom, sent by the Ying Kingdom's Imperial Family on a diplomatic mission to Tianzhou."

Shinto Munenryu.

Zhongcun head.

Qiao Zhenyu's pupils narrowed slightly.

The Zhongcun who died a few days ago under Lu Zhanlian's joint attack was the heir of Shinto Munenryu, and also the grandson of that Half-step Martial Ancestor Sword Saint.

The old man before me bears the surname Zhongcun, and is also the Flow Master of Shinto Munenryu; his identity is almost unmistakable.

Zhongcun Jiben.

Contemporary Sword Saint of the Ying Kingdom. Half-step Martial Ancestor.

Qiao Zhenyu's body tensed involuntarily, but his face showed no abnormality; he merely raised his hands slightly, his tone still steady.

"Flow Master Zhongcun has traveled from afar; I wonder what important business you have?"

Zhongcun Jiben rose slowly to his feet, his movements very slow, as if each action had been meticulously calculated.

He was not tall; standing before Qiao Zhenyu he was even half a head shorter, yet when he straightened his posture, Qiao Zhenyu could feel an invisible pressure emanating from him, like a coiled beast slowly opening its eyes.

He spoke, his voice hoarse and deep, bearing the typical slowness of an elder, yet each word was as clear as if carved into stone.

"General Qiao, long have I admired you. I, the old man, have come this time to handle the matter of Fist Sun's fall in Tianzhou. According to the rules of the Ying Kingdom, I would like to ask General Qiao for an explanation. If none is given, I will have to take it myself."