Chapter 148: One Hundred Fifty-Five, the Drop Rate Is Really High

One Hundred Fifty-Five, the Drop Rate Is Really High

Ajie did not return to Chang'an immediately.

That day, he lay for a long time on the grass in the inner courtyard of the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan, under the sun, singing the nursery rhyme "Guihua Niang" for hours.

Then he stayed two more days at the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan, living among the other frail, elderly, and disabled residents.

Ajie's wounds had improved, bound by the monastery officials who discovered him; they all assumed he was a pitiful soul seeking shelter at the temple, just like the other patients of the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan.

Ajie offered no explanation.

He ate two meals a day like the other disabled people who would otherwise have been left to beg on the streets: washing and drying clothes and bedding, sweeping the courtyard in the morning, and basking in the sun in the afternoon.

Life at the Tian Jiyang Yuan moved very, very slowly.

He was even beginning to forget he was a swordsman.

On a bright, sunny day, Ajie silently descended the mountain and stood at the outer edge of the crowd in Luming Street, watching the county magistrate's public trial.

Ajie saw the young county magistrate speak with generous conviction.

He also witnessed Liu Liu Ziwen's cunning poisoning and his execution in court.

He saw the crowd surge forward and nearly stab Liu Liu Ziwen to death with a knife.

Ajie saw all of this.

In the days that followed, aside from his morning chores at the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan—cleaning and, incidentally, weaving a kite for the deaf-mute childhood friends—he returned punctually each evening.

During the rest of the day, Ajie wandered the streets and alleys, touring every corner of this small city in the Jiang Nan Dao.

He silently observed how, after the public trial's decisive victory over the Liu family, the Longcheng County Office and the townspeople together gradually dismantled the Liu family's assets.

Throughout the entire county, in streets and alleys, teahouses and taverns, households and markets, a sense of celebration hung in the air.

Ajie even heard no fewer than three nursery rhymes celebrating the Liu family's downfall, sung by children in the marketplaces and refugee camps outside the city.

He later heard someone say Liu Liu Ziwen had not died—he had barely survived the street assassination.

Ajie fell silent for two days, then gave the woven butterfly kite to the deaf-mute childhood friends and left the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan without farewell.

Few needed to say goodbye, because few knew him; in the Beitian Tian Jiyang Yuan, there were many like him.

Before leaving, Ajie quietly returned two flasks of wine to the official named Brother Xiudu—the same flasks he had taken earlier for solitary moonlit drinking.

Ajie chose a moonlit night to leave Donglin Temple and return home.

After descending the mountain, he stopped by the city to retrieve something from Liu Liu Ziwen—and to return something to him.

Outside, the evening wind howled.

Inside, the room was pitch black.

After a sudden flash of snowy moonlight, one breath vanished from the room.

Silence followed.

Ajie pinched the dead man's unblinking head between two fingers, walked to the table, and placed it down.

His figure hesitated briefly.

He silently unbuckled the sword at his waist.

Ajie stepped out, easily bypassing the guards outside the courtyard.

He leapt onto a rooftop and sprinted off in the direction of the distant, surging Dajiang River.

The one-armed swordsman from Chang'an now lacked the Moon Maiden at his waist, but bore a bright moon upon his head.

…

When Magistrate Ouyang Rong learned of Liu Liu Ziwen's death, he was near a water-level marker upstream on the Butterfly Creek, studying the alarming rise of Lady Yunmeng Lake's waters.

"What? Someone cut off his head?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong froze, rolled down his sleeves, and hurried back to the county with Chenjun Xie Lingjiang aboard a boat.

He and his junior sister stood in the same office room they had visited the day before.

The door and windows stood wide open.

Yan Yan Liulang was leading constables to inspect the room for traces.

"What's this? Why is there another sword?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong lifted his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth, then gestured toward the decaying head on the table, where a long sword lay quietly beside it. "What's this?" he asked curiously.

"Your Honor," one constable bowed, "the clerk who brought breakfast this morning found him dead exactly like this. No one touched anything."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded, studying the two objects on the table.

Chenjun Xie Lingjiang did not cover her nose; she stepped forward, bent slightly, and examined the head. On the familiar face of Liu Liu Ziwen, an expression of stunned shock was frozen, as if captured at the moment of death.

Chenjun Xie Lingjiang turned and glanced at the headless corpse on the bed, then said directly:

"Ru Shixiong, the killer is left-handed. If this longsword was the weapon, cleanly severing a head in such a narrow space as a bed is beyond the capability of an ordinary martial artist. Judging by the skill, the killer has spiritual energy cultivation—at least Eighth Rank."

She reached out and seized the longsword; with a "zheng," it unsheathed.

The room seemed to brighten by a third.

"Hmm."

Chenjun Xie Lingjiang studied it again, held the blade horizontally, and carried it to the doorway to examine it under daylight, murmuring softly:

"Color like moonlight, luster like dew of cinnabar… flowing brocade, stars linked, shimmering radiance."

"Fine sword."

She looked up and said:

"Even in the Tiannan Jianghu of Tiannan, this is a sword coveted by top-tier sword cultivators—its rank is extremely high."

Chenjun Xie Lingjiang marveled, then turned to Magistrate Ouyang Rong with a puzzled expression:

"If this sword had appeared in the Lady Yunmeng Sword Marsh, I wouldn't be surprised—but now it's here, at a murder scene, placed beside Liu Liu Ziwen's head? What does the killer intend? What's the meaning?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong raised an eyebrow.

The Liu family had just been publicly condemned and disgraced; over these days, he and the Longcheng County Office had dismantled most of their holdings.

As the saying goes, when the wall falls, everyone pushes; enemies coming for revenge didn't surprise him—he merely felt a touch of weariness.

After all, though he only intended to pass through this world without deep involvement, the supernatural power of Qi Refiners still left him speechless.

"Swordsmen breaking the law, right? But how did it reach this small county of Longcheng?"

And what kind of nonsense is this—like dropping gold coins or rare gear?

Magistrate Ouyang Rong suddenly extended his hand; Chenjun Xie Lingjiang obediently sheathed the sword and handed it to her senior brother.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong did not draw the blade; he examined the scabbard and hilt, then noticed, faintly, an engraved mark on the scabbard.

It vaguely resembled the character "Wu."

"Hmm."

He softly hummed, turned, and beckoned to a nearby subordinate.

Any sword from a renowned swordsmith or forge typically bore a unique engraving—a mark of craftsmanship or anti-counterfeiting.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong had the county office summon an experienced, seasoned craftsman to inspect this strangely dropped weapon.

The old craftsman bowed respectfully:

"Your Honor, the engraving on the scabbard indicates this sword was forged by the ancient Yue Sword Workshop. But this engraving style is very old—long abandoned by the swordsmiths on the western bank of the Butterfly Creek."

"Since the Longcheng Liu family rebuilt their sword workshop, all newly forged swords now use a new engraving. Yet this blade appears freshly sharpened, with a brand-new finish—and look at the tassel: it comes from the ancient Yue Sword Workshop's tassel workshop…"

"This is a new sword, but we cannot tell which furnace of the ancient Yue Workshop forged it."

After his report, the craftsman was led away.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong gazed at the sword, then met Chenjun Xie Lingjiang's eyes.

Again, the ancient Yue Sword Workshop.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong silently stared out the window, toward the western bank of the Butterfly Creek.

Through the public trial, the Liu family had been dismantled; from the perspective of Longcheng's people, the Liu clan was as good as destroyed. All their assets and farmland in the county—except the ancient Yue Sword Workshop—had been surrendered, no longer bleeding the county dry.

But the ancient Yue Sword Workshop remained in the hands of Liu Zi'an and Liu Liu Zilin.

Previously, Magistrate Ouyang Rong had thought it unurgent, seeing no great threat.

But now it seemed…

Magistrate Ouyang Rong suddenly turned and said:

"In Longcheng County, no place is beyond the law."

Chenjun Xie Lingjiang glanced again at her senior brother.

…

Liu Liu Ziwen's head and body were returned to the Liu family.

Had Liu Liu Ziwen still been alive—or if he could know from beyond—the words he once spoke in Yuanming: "The dead deserve respect," would have come back to him.

With the Zhongyuan Festival approaching, the Liu family had already prepared ancestral offerings and funeral items—but now they would be used for Liu Liu Ziwen.

Yet Liu Liu Ziwen's case was far from over.

The cases involving Yaoyouzhazha and the fake county magistrate's assassination of the Inspector remained unresolved.

Were these crimes committed by the Jade Vase Immortal's deluded orders upon the Liu family and sword workshop craftsmen?

Or were they secretly plotted by Liu Liu Ziwen and other Liu family members, with the Jade Vase Immortal merely obeying?

The difference was immense.

If the latter, even if Liu Liu Ziwen had been beheaded by an unknown Qi Refiner, the Liu family would still be implicated—not merely losing wealth to appease the wrath, but facing far worse consequences, even with the Jiangzhou Inspector's guarantee.

But the Jade Vase Immortal remained in a coma.

Lacking critical evidence,

she was the one who knew the Liu family's crimes best.

In fact, solving this interrupted case was extremely troublesome, and Magistrate Ouyang Rong had already prepared for the worst.

Although for now, the dismembered Liu family posed little threat to Longcheng County.

Once this plum rain season ends completely, and the Di Gong Dam and Zhe Zhe Yiqu hold back the floodwaters, Longcheng County won't need to worry about flood control for the next two years.

With this, the tasks Magistrate Ouyang Rong came down the mountain to accomplish in Longcheng were nearly complete; he could now turn his attention to the Jingtu Palace and consider returning home…

But over these past two days, Magistrate Ouyang Rong had noticed that perhaps Lady Yuzhi Immortal and the Liu family had deeply offended Little Sister.

Little Sister was stubbornly and earnestly fixated on this case, running daily to the Lishe to seek ways to awaken Lady Yuzhi Immortal, determined to pry open Lady Yuzhi Immortal's mouth and solve both the Di Gong Dam explosion and the ribbon-cutting assassination.

Though the true answer was Yinyin clear to everyone's hearts.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong, who had redirected his efforts back to flood control, naturally did not stop her—he actively encouraged her…

That day.

Night fell.

The Liu family mansion.

In a chapel with white silk fluttering and white candles flickering, wails filled the air.

Xu Shi and other Liu family relatives wore mourning attire, weeping in the chapel.

Yet now, the Liu family stood at the storm's center, reviled by all in the county, with everyone eager to tear off a piece of flesh.

The chapel had been open since dusk until late night, yet few came to burn incense and pay respects.

Even the other branches of the Liu clan, who were dividing the estate, were nowhere to be seen.

In the chapel, beside the coffin, only a few figures remained: Liu Liu Zian, Liu Liu Zilin, Xu Shi, and the old servant Liu Fu.

The weeping of women and children only made the chapel feel emptier.

"Big sister, please bear up."

Liu Liu Zian, his face sorrowful, softly urged.

"Big sister, listen to Second Brother—go rest first."

Liu Liu Zilin, his face gaunt, crawled forward on his knees and added his plea.

Xu Shi's eyes were red-rimmed; she shook her head, grief-stricken.

Everyone bowed again and wept for a while longer.

Liu Liu Zian rose from his knees, his expression more resolute; he comforted the others, then led Liu Liu Zilin and the rest in keeping vigil with Xu Shi.

By late night, everyone prepared to temporarily withdraw.

"Second Brother, go rest a bit. Don't let grief destroy your health—come back in the middle of the night."

Liu Liu Zilin, staring ahead, said:

"Now that Big Brother is gone, you're the pillar of this household. You absolutely cannot fall ill—otherwise, who will avenge Big Brother…?"

Liu Liu Zian stubbornly shook his head, his back to Liu Liu Zilin, gazing fixedly at the coffin of Liu Liu Ziwen.

"You all go rest. I'll stay longer with Big Brother."

He took a deep breath.

Seeing their Quanshuo failed, Liu Liu Zilin and the other servants soon withdrew one by one.

That night, only Liu Liu Zian and Xu Shi and others remained, diligently keeping watch until dawn, when Xu Shi, utterly exhausted, was taken by servants to rest in the back hall, leaving only Liu Liu Zian alone.

Outside the chapel, Liu Liu Zilin and others who had arrived that morning after a night's rest saw Liu Liu Zian's tall, silent figure before the coffin, and exchanged glances.

Many of the doubt in their eyes vanished, replaced by faint traces of admiration and emotion.

The Liu family, which had been shaken by Liu Liu Ziwen's final words, gradually found its spirits a little steadier.

Even when others came to relieve the vigil in the morning, Liu Liu Zian remained silent, having eaten not a single grain of rice in a full day and night, continuing the vigil with Xu Shi and Liu Liu Zilin as they returned.

His figure knelt at the very front of the coffin, as the wind and rain persisted.

As evening neared, the vigil ended; Liu Liu Zian rose silently, weary-faced, seeing off the sparse mourners.

He rubbed his cheeks, his steps unsteady, escorting his third brother Liu Liu Zilin and eldest sister-in-law Xu Shi away, his voice choked with tears as he urged them gently.

Had it not been for his staggering form, which Liu Liu Zilin and Xu Shi stopped, he likely would have continued faithfully to see them back to their courtyards.

The chapel dispersed; everyone returned to their courtyards.

Liu Liu Zian sighed softly, rubbed his tired face, and dismissed the servants.

He turned and walked along the familiar winding corridor back to his own courtyard.

The courtyard was plain, even somewhat empty.

Because its master had lived simply, day after day, for years.

Liu Liu Zian silently pushed open the door.

Inside, the bedding on the bed was folded neatly.

Objects on the table and cabinets were arranged in perfect order.

All revealed the owner's disciplined, obsessive cleanliness.

After entering, Liu Liu Zian closed the door and did not light a lamp.

He walked straight to a round table and sat down in silence.

Outside the window, the evening sun slowly shifted, then faded.

Darkness began to claim the empty, silent room.

Dressed in pure white mourning robes, Liu Liu Zian sat quietly for a moment, then reached out toward the teapot.

His hand paused halfway; his face twisted in fury:

"Liu Liu Ziwen, you're finally dead! Good riddance! Good riddance!"

Something happened today, I'm feeling low, this chapter was rushed—sorry, guys.

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