Chapter 170: The Marvelous Use of Insight: Blade Art Soars

At noon, the sun blazed fiercely.

The atmosphere inside the room stood in stark contrast to the bright sunshine outside.

"Find out who did this—now!"

Zhuang Renhe's face was icy, his skin twitching as he stared at the corroded marks on the floor.

Today, Xiang Ting had not come to report to him as usual.

He immediately sensed something was wrong.

Among all his subordinates, Xiang Ting was not the strongest in martial skill, but he was the one Zhuang Renhe trusted most.

It was because Xiang Ting had always been cautious and measured in his actions.

Even small tasks were handled excellently.

He would never commit such a foolish mistake as missing an appointment.

So he sent men to check on Xiang Ting's residence.

What they found was shocking.

There was no trace of Xiang Ting left—his body had been dissolved into sludge, not even a bone fragment remaining.

"Yes, Third Master."

The several men standing nearby replied in unison, their voices low.

These men were all elite warriors brought by the Zhuang family, so they addressed him as Third Master, not "my lord."

Zhuang Renhe narrowed his eyes:

"Could it be Jiang Linxian?"

His first thought was Jiang Linxian, since he was currently Zhuang Renhe's greatest enemy.

"No."

He shook his head shortly after.

His men operated with extreme secrecy; Jiang Linxian could not possibly have discovered them, and even if he had, there would be no need to kill just Xiang Ting.

With that man's methods, he would have come straight for me.

"Find out who it is—now!"

He snapped at the men beside him.

To have a trusted subordinate murdered without knowing who was responsible—this feeling was unbearable, infuriating.

He let out a cold snort, swept his sleeve, and strode out of the room.

The men inside exchanged uneasy glances.

How could they investigate when Xiang Ting had been reduced to nothing but sludge?

In the courtyard.

Li Rui extended both arms horizontally, fingers spread, the Zhaodao resting balanced between his palms.

He did not draw the blade.

He simply closed his eyes and stood perfectly still.

Yang Yong and Wang Zhao stood to the side, clutching a handful of fresh sunflower seeds, cracking them open as they chatted.

"How long has Old Li been like this?"

"Several hours."

Hearing Wang Zhao say "several hours," Yang Yong paused mid-crack, eyes wide in disbelief: "How many?"

Wang Zhao confirmed again: "Precisely five hours. Master has been like this since early morning."

My god.

Yang Yong marveled inwardly.

He had held Li Rui's blade before—it weighed at least twenty jin.

Even if you don't lift it, try standing motionless under the midday sun for five hours?

Few could endure it.

Yet Li Rui not only endured it—he looked perfectly at ease, as if he could maintain this stance all night.

"I didn't know martial cultivators had this kind of endurance."

Yang Yong grew even more envious, clicking his tongue in admiration.

Previously, Li Rui had invited him to brothels several times, claiming it was free, but he always refused—was it because he didn't want to? No, he couldn't.

As the two marveled at Li Rui's endurance,

Li Rui, who had remained motionless for so long, finally moved.

He did not move—and then, when he did, it was like thunder!

The two barely saw how he struck—only a sudden gale swept through.

Li Rui's robe fluttered as the Zhaodao slashed down.

Boom!

A deafening crash erupted.

Yang Yong and Wang Zhao were startled—because the sound came from the back courtyard.

This was a four-hall residence.

That meant one had to pass through three circular archways to reach the back courtyard—each courtyard roughly fifteen meters long, so traversing all four courtyards totaled sixty meters!

The two leaned forward, peering through the archways at the scene in the back courtyard.

They both sucked in a sharp breath.

Dust swirled in the air—the artificial rockery at the courtyard's center had been cleanly split in two by Li Rui's strike.

Now it was two separate hills.

"Is this even humanly possible?"

Sixty meters.

One slash, cleaving a hill!

Even if it was an artificial rockery, the feat was astonishing enough.

Only then did Li Rui's lips curl into a faint smile of satisfaction.

"Not bad."

The three words rang clearly in Yang Yong and Wang Zhao's ears, making their jaws drop involuntarily.

After that? And he still says "not bad"?

Li Rui sheathed his blade.

Standing motionless with the blade raised for five hours was no idle feat.

He was cultivating the blade's intent.

After his aptitude improved, brilliant insights into martial arts flooded his mind; after half a month of study, he finally devised a blade technique entirely derived from the Changchun Art.

The Blade-Nurturing Posture.

"Ancient masters nurtured swords—ten years without drawing, yet one strike startled ghosts and gods; the sword remained sheathed, warmed by true qi—this was called nurturing the sword."

But the tradition of sword-nurturing masters gradually faded, and the lineage was long lost.

Li Rui drew inspiration from this to create the Blade-Nurturing Posture.

The Changchun Art emphasized internal cultivation over external form, focused on health and longevity, and did not prioritize devastating offensive moves.

This Blade-Nurturing Posture perfectly amplified the Changchun Art's strength in nurturing qi, applying it directly to technique: no strike unless unleashed, and when unleashed, instant annihilation.

Just five hours of nurturing the blade's intent had produced such results—what if nurtured for ten or twenty years? The power was unimaginable.

"Truly boundless in application!" Li Rui chuckled.

The increase in aptitude yielded immediate results; with this Blade-Nurturing Posture, he now possessed another powerful advantage.

After a full day in the sun,

He asked Yang Yong and Wang Zhao to heat a large tub of water and soaked in it comfortably.

In ordinary Yu households, people bathed in large wooden tubs filled with water, but the wealthy built small square pools inside their rooms, similar to ancient swimming pools.

Not only were they spacious, but they retained heat better.

It was pure bliss.

Li Rui leaned back comfortably against the pool's wall.

"It seems I can enjoy a brief respite."

Since he killed Xiang Ting, half a month had passed, and the mist within his Insight Eye had changed little.

That meant:

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As he had predicted, Zhuang Renhe might have raged, seeking the killer.

But he erased all evidence—there was nothing to investigate; no matter how furious, he had no lead.

With Xiang Ting dead, the new person taking over wouldn't necessarily care about him.

The facts proved this true.

Recently, Cao Wei, as Assistant Regional Commander, had voluntarily pushed for stricter discipline in the Anning Guard, leading several officers from various guard battalions to be taken to the Enforcement Camp.

Some were lucky—just reprimanded; others were unlucky—lost their posts outright; the worst was one who had colluded with a sect and was beaten to death on the spot.

Is training discipline really this simple?

Of course not—it was all about crimes like collusion, harming civilians, seizing farmland; those with patrons got reprimanded, those without lost their positions—that was the real situation.

The one who was beaten to death was still Cao Wei's man.

It was said he dared to have an affair with Garrison Commander Feng Yu's wife, and was subsequently beaten to death.

The flexibility of the law lies precisely here.

If one looks closely, one will find that three-tenths of these officials belong to Cao Wei's faction, while the remaining seven-tenths are Jiang Lin's men.

Clearly, it's gods fighting and mortals suffering.

But to say these people were innocent?

They weren't innocent at all; according to the military law of Annan Town, they deserved immediate beheading.

But how many officers in Anning Guard dare claim their subordinates are clean?

Even if one's own hands are clean, one's subordinates may not be.

One can still be charged with failure to supervise.

Moreover, Cao Wei had clearly prepared thoroughly—evidence and leads were solid, leaving Jiang Lin no grounds to criticize.

On closer inspection, one finds most of them were officers under Ning Zhongtian.

After this purge, the effect came swiftly: Ning Zhongtian was left with only four officers above seventh rank—Li Rui, Ge Hong, Wei Ming, and Tan Hu—all others had been stripped of their posts.

To say this wasn't deliberately targeted is unbelievable.

"Old Brother Li, if you hadn't warned me, I might have been caught too."

Wei Ming took a heavy gulp of wine.

Sitting beside him were the last four surviving officers under Ning Zhongtian.

Just thinking about it sent chills down his spine.

He was never a man of pristine morals; though he never forcibly seized women, he had plenty of times seized farmland.

If caught by Cao Wei's faction, he might not lose his post outright, but his hard-won Platoon Leader position would certainly be gone.

Fortunately, Li Rui warned him, so he acted in advance and shifted all blame onto a subordinate in charge of grain.

That grain officer was now locked in the water dungeon by the Enforcement Camp.

He once sneaked a visit and promised to care for the man's wife and children; once the three-year term ended, he would arrange for the officer to return to office.

Only then did he avoid disaster.

Ge Hong was also shaken: "Thanks to Old Brother Li's keen insight—we'd both have been ruined otherwise."

Li Rui smiled lightly: "I just guessed blindly—it happened to be right."

He realized this was a setup orchestrated by Cao Wei and County Magistrate Zhuang Renhe.

Their goal: to strip Jiang Lin of his allies.

Especially since Ning Zhongtian had recently shone too brightly.

He could only manage to protect three people—that was his limit.

If he did more, he'd surely draw Cao Wei and Zhuang Renhe's attention and bring fire upon himself.

"This whole affair is suspicious—did Cao Wei and Zhuang become partners?"

Wei Ming muttered bitterly.

This time, much of the evidence was uncovered with the government's strong cooperation.

The government cooperated with astonishing eagerness.

Most Assistant Regional Commanders in the guard battalions had poor relations with local County Magistrates.

One mountain cannot hold two tigers.

Both wanted control, inevitably leading to enmity.

Yet this time, the government answered every request—clearly, Cao Wei and Zhuang Renhe had reached some agreement.

It seemed they joined forces out of fear that Jiang Lin was growing too powerful, but Li Rui didn't believe that.

From all signs, it was easy to guess that County Magistrate Zhuang was doing something extremely secretive.

Qu Chengfeng might have been just one piece—everything being done now was meant to distract Jiang Lin's attention.

But what exactly was Zhuang Renhe hiding?

Deep night.

The four men drank until their faces flushed red, staggered back to Anning Guard post, half-drunk.

After parting ways.

Li Rui rubbed his temples and headed toward his home.

As he stepped inside.

He saw Wang Zhao and Yang Yong still awake, sitting in the courtyard cooling off.

Wang Zhao rose immediately upon seeing Li Rui: "Master, a letter arrived for you at the post station today."

"A letter for me?"

Li Rui's brow twitched slightly.

He had spent most of his life in Qinghe, with no relatives or kin outside, hardly any friends—who would send him a letter?

Seeing his reaction, Wang Zhao nodded quickly:

"It's from Miss Yao."

Thank you, Nuan Yang, for the Silver Alliance—working hard to write extra chapters.

(End of Chapter)