Chapter 137: Wandering the Martial World

A middle-aged scholar in green robes strode out, elegant and refined.

As he walked, he bowed and offered congratulations.

"Sir Li, you've just taken office, and I haven't even had the chance to pay my respects."

He smiled warmly and courteously.

"Brother He is too kind."

Li Rui rose and returned the bow, laughing heartily.

After all, you don't hit someone who's smiling at you.

The elder of Qingfeng Mountain Villa was no weakling.

Why would He Nian strike him? Because Tan Hu had beaten up Qingfeng Mountain Villa's people—including a high-ranking elder.

"Sir Li, what brings you to Qingfeng Mountain Villa today?"

He Nian sat down.

He sized up Li Rui, assuming ill intent.

The arrogance of the Anning Guard in recent days had been plain for all to see; publicly, Qingfeng Mountain Villa must show deference, but behind closed doors—

Li Rui waved his hand with a smile: "What orders? I'm just an old man wandering around, hoping for a cup of tea."

He Nian's eyes narrowed slightly.

This patrol commander seemed very different from the previous one, Tan Company Commander.

Qingfeng Mountain Villa had its own connections within the Anning Guard.

He had heard this seventy-year-old patrol commander was, so far at least, not extreme in his conduct.

"Who can say for sure?"

He Nian's expression remained unchanged, still flattering: "Sir Li, you've achieved greatness late in life—do come often to Qingfeng Mountain Villa."

Liang He stood to the side.

He listened as Li Rui and He Nian exchanged flattery for an entire hour.

Not a sip of tea was taken, yet neither seemed bothered.

Finally—

Li Rui stretched and yawned: "Brother He, my old bones can't sit much longer. Let's call it a day. Next time, I'll bring Brother Tan for a drink with you."

He Nian's face lit up.

The "Brother Tan" Li Rui mentioned was, of course, Tan Hu—the man who had beaten Qingfeng Mountain Villa's disciples and elders.

No matter how powerful Qingfeng Mountain Villa was, it was still a martial sect.

Making a mortal enemy of the Anning Guard would be foolish.

With Li Rui mediating, turning hostility into harmony, he was more than willing.

"Enough, Brother He, don't see me out—I'll find my own way."

Li Rui waved off He Nian's attempt to escort him.

He Nian could only say: "Brother Li, do come again."

After their talk, the address had shifted from "Sir Li" to "Brother Li."

Outside Qingfeng Mountain Villa—

Liang He finally asked: "Chief, is that all?"

He had expected Li Rui to either dominate with force or apologize with charm.

Instead—

They sat for an hour without touching on anything serious.

Li Rui glanced sideways at Liang He: "Of course. Do you think I should bow to them?"

Unnecessary.

He represented the Anning Guard—effectively, the imperial court.

They were beaten, but no one died; there was no need to lower himself to apologize to a martial sect.

He chose Qingfeng Mountain Villa precisely because Tan Hu had only lost face, not suffered real loss.

They were all old foxes of the martial world.

Some things couldn't be spoken outright; what seemed like idle chatter was mutual probing.

Just empty theatrics.

But essential.

Otherwise, you'd reveal weakness—make them think you're green, and they'd plot behind your back.

He Nian couldn't gauge Li Rui's true intentions.

Li Rui then revealed his stance: inviting Tan Hu for a drink was offering Qingfeng Mountain Villa a face-saving exit.

Come, and the grudge is erased.

Don't come, and Qingfeng Mountain Villa won't find it easy to operate in Anning Guard territory again.

"There are advantages to being old."

If he'd been a young fool—or even the same age as He Nian—he'd have needed a full day and night to escape.

Thanks to his age, he turned the tables.

Come when he pleased, leave when he wished.

A grand sect like Qingfeng Mountain Villa wouldn't dare keep an old man waiting.

As long as face hadn't been fully lost, no one would tear it apart.

Liang He nodded obediently, thinking:

"The Chief must have deep intent—I must learn!"

He ventured: "Chief, where to next? Mingguang Sect, or Xuehu Bang?"

Li Rui's lips curled slightly:

"I'm tired. Let's go home and sleep."

"Oh."

Liang He trailed behind Li Rui: "The Chief's actions always have meaning."

Liang He now followed blindly—whatever the Chief did was right. The proof was right before him: in just three years, a bookish Chief had become a patrol commander.

Li Rui returned to the garrison.

He didn't go to Benhu Qi; he went straight home.

The advantage of being a patrol commander was this:

Unlike Tan Hu's position as Company Commander, he had no fixed duties, no need to train soldiers—only to monitor major factions in his jurisdiction and scout ahead when demonic disasters struck.

His freedom was considerable.

But such a nominal post made real achievement difficult.

More often than not, he was merely an advisor.

Li Rui returned home.

"Old Yang gone again?"

Inside the house, only Wang Zhao was cleaning back and forth.

Wang Zhao saw Li Rui and exclaimed in delight: "Master, why are you home so early today?"

Li Rui smiled faintly: "I'm just a idle man—might as well stay home."

"Master isn't idle."

Wang Zhao said seriously.

Li Rui was now a seventh-rank patrol commander, equal in rank to a county magistrate—how could he be idle? He stopped teasing Wang Zhao.

"Enough. Sweep the courtyard once every half-month—no need to do it daily."

With Wang Zhao around—

He couldn't even see fallen leaves.

Wang Zhao blushed: "I just have nothing to do."

Li Rui spoke more firmly: "I gave you martial arts manuals and Confucian texts—train, read. If you become a martial cultivator or pass the imperial exams, that's what'll truly help me."

"Yes, Master."

Wang Zhao ducked his head.

He'd tried before—but as an uneducated brute, these things were too hard.

Li Rui sighed lightly.

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He understood the difficulty well—otherwise, he'd have done it himself long ago, instead of waiting till now.

"Alright, get on with your work."

He waved his hand.

Li Rui returned to his room.

After completing thirty-six Heavenly Circles, he opened the door again—the daylight still blazed bright.

He smiled faintly: "For the first time, I feel time is abundant."

This was partly because the patrol commander's post had no burdens, and partly because merging the two diagrams had greatly cut his cultivation time.

Li Rui murmured: "Time to visit the blacksmith."

Today, heading to Qingfeng Manor, I carried a standard-issue long saber.

Though sufficient, it was awkward to handle and prevented me from maximizing my combat potential.

As my status rose, continuing to carry a massive saber was simply too eccentric.

With that thought in mind.

Li Rui headed to the blacksmith shop while the hour was still early.

Yu State enforced a separation between command authority and arms production to prevent military power from growing too strong.

A general who commanded troops and could forge weapons could rebel with ease.

The blacksmith shop remained in its original location.

At most, it had been expanded.

Li Rui arrived at the blacksmith shop and sought out the same burly smith he had met before.

The burly man, seeing Li Rui, looked surprised: "It's you again?"

Li Rui raised an eyebrow: "You remember me, young man?"

The burly man nodded: "An old man once ordered a seventy-jin saber—hard to forget."

A year had passed, yet he still remembered clearly.

"You came back because the saber wasn't heavy enough?"

Having traded before, they were now familiar; the old man's temperament had been agreeable, so he teased lightly.

Li Rui chuckled and shook his head:

"No, this time I want a lighter, simpler saber, suitable for seventh-rank use."

The earlier request was normal enough.

But when he heard "seventh-rank," the burly man gasped in disbelief: "O-Old man, are you a seventh-rank martial artist?"

He widened his eyes.

He never imagined this ordinary-looking old man was a seventh-rank martial artist.

Keep in mind that without the Qinghe garrison, there wouldn't be a single seventh-rank official in the entire Qinghe region.

"I didn't recognize a mountain when I saw one."

The burly man's demeanor instantly turned deferential: "Master, the saber you request is too high-grade—I must report it to the foreman. The price may… not be low."

Li Rui nodded: "No problem. Just forge it as I asked. Charge it to Li Rui, Patrol Captain of Anning Guard."

"Y-You're Captain Li?!"

A thunderclap flashed through the burly man's mind.

It matched.

Everything matched.

Li Rui, the new Patrol Captain of Anning Guard, broke into seventh-rank at seventy, entered the Willow Sinew realm—this story had spread throughout Qinghe and become a staple in storytellers' tales.

The old man, the seventh-rank—exactly as the rumors described.

The burly man felt it unreal.

He never imagined he'd already crossed paths with this Qinghe legend a year ago.

"Rest assured, Captain Li—I'll see this done for you."

The burly man patted his chest.

This was a government-run shop; no credit was given.

But one group was exempt: the Annan Army.

The government blacksmith shop existed primarily to serve the Annan Army; selling to outsiders was merely secondary.

As an officer of Anning Guard, Li Rui's credit was no issue.

Leaving the blacksmith shop.

Li Rui returned to the military camp.

In the days that followed, life became ordinary.

Aside from supervising morning drills at Benhu Camp each dawn, he spent his time at home cultivating and reading.

These were matters of life and survival—no room for carelessness.

No martial artist who reached the top was ever lazy; even the highest talent meant nothing without practice.

Suddenly.

Ten days passed.

One day.

Li Rui had just returned home from Benhu Camp and saw a figure standing before his door.

As he drew near,

he recognized the man at the door: Peng Hu, Deputy Chief of Xuehu Gang!

"Deputy Chief Peng?"

Li Rui quickened his steps to stand before Peng Hu.

"On official business—forgive me for the intrusion."

Peng Hu turned, saw Li Rui, and grinned warmly: "Ah, Captain Li! I heard of your promotion and came to pay my respects."

Li Rui glanced.

Peng Hu hadn't come empty-handed—he carried a large, finely crafted wooden box.

Clearly filled with many items.

"Old Li has come far: now even a deputy chief stands at my door in the cold wind, bringing gifts."

These were all benefits granted by his new rank as Patrol Captain.

If he'd still been Deputy Chief of Qinghe Branch or Grain Officer of Anning Guard, would a deputy chief of such stature have bowed so low?

(End of Chapter)