Chapter 456: Two Hundred and Forty-Three: Born Artisan, Unquiet When Wronged

Two Hundred and Forty-Three: Born Artisan, Unquiet When Wronged

In the study of the Prince Xunyang Wang Fu, a long silence followed.

"I truly owe the Wang family mother and son, and the people of Prince Xunyang, an apology."

Li Su Xian remained silent for a long while, his lips dry as he spoke.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong shook his head:

"I didn't stop you from submitting that memorial because of one thing you said."

"What was that?" the Zhou prince couldn't help asking.

"If I don't speak up, my heart won't rest."

Li Su Xian stared at him, stunned.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong's expression was calm as he spoke:

"You also said then that you finally understood why I insisted on standing up against it—even though Lin Cheng represented the Emperor's will, and I was like a cicada trying to shake a tree."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded and said:

"So I understand you."

"So even when I sensed some risk, I only advised—not blocked—you, didn't stop you."

"So I know you, and Su Dalang, have done your utmost."

"At least, when you ask your conscience, you answer without shame."

Li Su Guoer and Chen Jun Xie Lingjiang stared, lost in thought, at the handsome young man with his serious expression.

Li Su Xian and Li Su Dalang exchanged a glance.

Li Su Dalang's voice cracked: "Tanlang…"

Li Su Xian took a deep breath and asked:

"And what of you, Tanlang? You were so calm that day—I thought you'd grown heartbroken after last time, that you'd lost faith in us, that you believed we'd broken our promise not to let those who carried fire for others freeze in the snow."

"These past few days you didn't come—I've been afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid I'd never see again the Tanlang whose blood still burned, even when drinking ice water, the Tanlang who carried fire for the people."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong slowly shook his head and said:

"You and Su Dalang didn't let me freeze in the snow either—that day, when you intercepted the memorial, you were saving me."

"I never said thanks, but I remember it."

Before the emotionally moved group could speak, he answered seriously:

"Prince, Su Dalang, I stayed calm and advised against it because one of us must remain sober at all times—like when drinking together and returning drunk, someone must be sober to keep us from stumbling off the path."

"Last time, you two were the sober ones keeping watch. This time, it's my turn."

Li Su Guoer suddenly asked: "Magistrate Ouyang Magistrate Ouyang Lianghan, so you didn't really care as little as you seemed about the Wang family's matter?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong said nothing, his face still wearing the same calm expression he'd worn since his demotion to Judicial Commissioner, lips tightly pressed.

Soon, he returned to the matter at hand.

"Senior Brother, Prince, Su Guoer-sister, you said…"

Chen Jun Xie Lingjiang spoke up suddenly.

"Could it be that the Wang family tragedy was a trap set by Lin Cheng and the Wei clan—intended to lure Senior Brother into biting the hook? They planned well, but didn't expect to face a Senior Brother who stood still and responded with cold calm."

The group fell into thought.

Li Su Guoer mused:

"Are you suggesting the Wang family's old matriarch and her third son, Wang Yu, were led there—not by accident, but by design?"

Wei Mei also asked: "It could also be the Restoration Army rebels behind this, not Lin Cheng or the Weis."

At this, everyone frowned.

"I don't agree with these guesses—at least not that the old matriarch and Wang Yu acted of their own volition."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong shook his head and said:

"They may have been used, or manipulated—but no matter the hidden truth, our respect for them remains unchanged."

"Those two flames? They're real."

The study fell silent for a moment, then returned to the matter at hand.

Li Su Guoer frowned:

"Now it's clear—even the Wang family tragedy couldn't get Grandmother to remove Lin Cheng. It's obvious the great Buddha being built in Xingzi Fang has become Lin Cheng's get-out-of-jail-free card."

"He forged a golden body for Grandmother—and now he's gained one himself. How do we break it?"

The group fell silent, their hopeful gazes turning, in varying degrees, toward Magistrate Ouyang Rong.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong remained silent for a long while.

Then he stood, and without a word, strode out under their watching eyes.

Not because he was stumped.

But because it was too loud.

…

Magistrate Ouyang Rong had recently noticed he was falling into a strange state.

It began around the time, at Prince Xunyang Ferry, when he openly defied the imperial decree before all eyes.

He sometimes heard distant, faint sword hums.

The sound resembled the ceaseless chirping of summer cicadas.

If forced to describe it, it was like thin wings fluttering constantly beside the ear—buzzing, not dull, with a sharp, crisp tone.

The sword hum varied in volume.

It depended on the situation.

Just now, in the study of the Prince Xunyang Wang Fu, surrounded by worried faces, Magistrate Ouyang Rong felt as if ten thousand summer cicadas were singing at once…

At first, Magistrate Ouyang Rong suspected it might be a side effect of the Qi Refining he'd suffered after swallowing one-third of the Six-Winged Summer Cicada's Transformation Golden Elixir.

But he quickly ruled it out. Why hadn't it happened before? Why now, when he'd done nothing unusual, and his cultivation remained stuck at the Eighth Rank?

And now he was certain it was a sword hum…

Clouds obscured the moon. Magistrate Ouyang Rong opened the door and entered his main bedroom.

The first thing he saw was the small, curled figure on the bed, knees drawn to chest, silver hair spread across the crimson sheets like white silk spun by spring silkworms.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked, surprised.

"I woke up to pee. Tanlang wasn't here. When I lay back down… I couldn't sleep." She got up, slipped on her shoes, and came toward him.

"I went out for something tonight…" Magistrate Ouyang Rong waved his hand.

"I know."

Ye Ye Weilai interrupted him, stood, quickly kissed his thin cheek, then turned and ran back, murmuring "Sleeping now," curled under the covers, obediently closing her eyes, not disturbing him.

"Did you hear it?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong took off his coat and asked suddenly.

Ye Ye Weilai opened her blue eyes, puzzled: "Hear what? Did you say something just now?"

"Never mind."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong fell silent for a moment, then shook his head.

After soothing the little girl to sleep,

he turned and walked to the wardrobe, opening its doors.

Sitting atop a long, high-placed qin case was a slender figure in Confucian robes and a small female scholar's cap, chin propped on both hands, tiny legs swinging gently, half-asleep.

"Why are you also a night owl?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong asked, surprised, his eyes fixed on the qin case beneath her.

"Waiting."

"Waiting for whom?"

"Who do you think?"

Miao Si snapped, her drowsiness gone in an instant.

"Give it!"

She stiffened her small face, expressionless, holding out her hand.

"Give what?" Magistrate Ouyang Rong was confused.

Without another word, Miao Si reached into her sleeve, rummaged in her small pouch, and pulled out a debt note as proof.

"Huh? How come walking at night, I found several fine Hanlei ink cakes? Look—yours? Next time, be more careful not to drop them."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded in sudden understanding, smiled, and pulled seven Hanlei ink cakes he'd taken from the Prince Xunyang Wang Fu from his sleeve, placing them before her.

"That's more like it! Hehe."

Little Ink happily munched her midnight snack, glanced over, and noticed Magistrate Ouyang Rong staring intently at her eating. She shifted her bottom, spun a full 180 degrees, turned her back to him, and kept eating ink.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong waited silently.

Due to fear of arousing suspicion from Rong Zhen and his men, Magistrate Ouyang Rong and the others couldn't openly buy Hanlei ink cakes.

The Prince Xunyang Wang Fu and Little Sister's side purchased them regularly, as needed.

So sometimes, Magistrate Ouyang Rong didn't deliberately owe Miao Si ink cakes—he simply couldn't get enough Hanlei ink cakes to satisfy her.

Soon, Miao Si let out a satisfied burp.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong saw her pull a stack of small paper slips from her sleeve; the top few bore his own handwriting, bearing dates such as "Tianyou Year One" for ink ingot debts.

Miao Si sidestepped his gaze, walked aside, lowered her head, and counted her fingers, then pulled out two debt slips and tore them up.

The other slips below were unknown—who they belonged to, or where so many had come from.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong faintly spotted the words "Yixi Year One" on one of the lower slips; that was not a reign title used by Da Gan or Da Zhou.

Tucking away the stack of ancient, wine-like debt slips, the meticulous, grudge-holding ink spirit clapped her pale little hands, turned, glanced at Magistrate Ouyang Rong who had just withdrawn his gaze, and grumbled reluctantly:

"Didn't raise you for nothing—you're the most filial, no contest."

After speaking, the young woman in Confucian robes glanced down at the violin case beneath her.

"Magistrate Ouyang Magistrate Ouyang Lianghan, is there some movement inside this?"

She shifted from sitting to lying prone atop the qin box, propped her feet up, rested her chin on her hands, and asked with curious expression.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong pursed his lips: "You heard it?"

"Heard what? My ears heard nothing."

The naturally born spirit girl shook her head, gently tapping her chin with her index finger:

"It's a feeling—I just feel it's strange, off somehow."

"What's off?"

"How would this immortal maiden know? This is your sword—figure it out yourself. But I warn you: Mythical Cauldron Sword's every anomaly is never without cause—take it seriously."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong narrowed his eyes; after a moment, he dismissed this sharp-intuition little ink spirit to sleep.

Closing the wardrobe, Magistrate Ouyang Rong hugged the sword case and headed toward the study.

He sat down in the dark.

He opened the sword case.

With two fingers, he plucked out a 【Arc】.

A pale blue aura flowed over his fingertips like water.

A single arc, thin as a cicada's wing.

Dreamlike, illusory.

At this moment, the 【Arc】 trembled slightly in the air.

The sword's hum beside Magistrate Ouyang Rong's ear instantly grew louder.

It was indeed him.

But Magistrate Ouyang Rong still didn't understand why.

And there was a peculiar point: when he calmed down, the more agitated those around him became, the louder the sword's hum grew.

If he attended leisurely poetry gatherings, the hum quieted considerably—even vanished.

But if he were in that day's teahouse, or just now in the Prince Xunyang Prince's study,

surrounded by Li Su Xian, Little Sister, and others with varying emotions, the sword's hum swelled.

Especially after this Wang family mother-and-son incident.

Even when Magistrate Ouyang Rong was far from the sword case, interacting with them,

even deep within the Prince's mansion, the sword's hum never ceased.

It seemed to have many things it wanted to say.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong always felt something within this sword hum was about to emerge.

But it hadn't yet fully surfaced, ripened, and fallen.

This was one reason Magistrate Ouyang Rong had lately avoided the Prince Xunyang Prince's mansion, arrived late and left early at Jiangzhou's government office, indulged in poetry gatherings, and tried to distance himself from duties and people.

Too noisy—he wanted quiet alone.

And a man with cicada-song in his ear could better calm himself, observe the sorrows and joys of the world.

Under the moonlight, Magistrate Ouyang Rong lit a lamp to examine his sword, sat in silence listening to cicadas, and murmured:

"Did you sense that 'qi'? That's why you're unsettled? Wanting to speak..."

But how can a cauldron sword speak?

At one moment, Magistrate Ouyang Rong spoke to himself:

"Sword Art... Sword Art..."

In a sense, the Mythical Cauldron Sword's Sword Art was its "words of speech."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong pursed his lips, then came back to himself after a moment.

He glanced at the sky, then went to the Merit Tower first.

The merit above the small wooden fish remained just over eight thousand—hardly increased.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong left the Merit Tower and put away the 【Artisan's Craft】 that had been anomalous for days.

"Golden Body..."

As if recalling the difficult question Su Su Guoer had thrown him not long ago, Magistrate Ouyang Rong pursed his lips.

After ascending to the Eighth Rank, his dantian's capacity expanded, and his spiritual energy became refined.

Facing enemies previously at the Seventh Rank, the casting time of "Return and Go" shortened by three breaths—now only twelve breaths... and if extended to fifteen breaths, it could pierce the protective true qi of a Sixth Rank Qi Refiner, endangering life.

Thus, alone against Lin Cheng, if Magistrate Ouyang Rong could cast his sword, he could break Lin Cheng's Sixth Rank true qi and take his head.

But Lin Cheng was cunning—he rarely gave Magistrate Ouyang Rong a chance to cast, and he wouldn't fight alone; he'd surely call for help.

Who knows, even Rong Zhen might aid him, since in her eyes, the Master of Butterfly's Love was a shared enemy.

But one problem remained: his dantian's spiritual energy was severely insufficient.

Because he had been stuck at the early stage of the Eighth Rank.

This was due to the missing complete Sword Art—he only roughly understood the true meaning of "Artisan's Craft," but couldn't distill a full Sword Art. And he had no leads yet on any new Sword Arts.

So he remained stalled at the early stage of the Eighth Rank.

Even with a Sword Art, advancing his spiritual energy required emulating the Jade Zhi Immortal's alchemical lineage, setting up a strange ritual to gather Mythical Spirit and celestial spiritual energy to break through these Qi Refining thresholds.

Sword Art and ritual—two rigid conditions—had completely stalled his current cultivation, making dantian progress as slow as a tortoise.

To date, even with full effort, his Eighth Rank early-stage dantian, without invoking Merit Purple Mist, could only sustain a fifteen-breath sword cast to kill one Sixth Rank Qi Refiner.

As for the Mythical Cauldron Sword's divine power, "Artisan's Craft"—originating from emptiness:

This was not Mount Mount Dagu; the only thing he could possibly mobilize was his own literary qi—but even that was of little use.

Because his literary qi had a weakness: each poem existed outside his body; communicating with and drawing upon them was slow—he had to invoke them one by one, which took time.

But casting the sword demanded time above all else.

Ideally, he needed fifteen uninterrupted breaths—thus, dantian spiritual energy and Merit Purple Mist were the most convenient fuels for the Mythical Cauldron Sword.

Back in Huang Meilu Xuan's old courtyard, he had slain Yan Zhang and others with scattered literary qi leaves precisely because they were trapped in the Pool-Under-Moon Array, unable to break free in time, and lacked spiritual energy to resist him wielding a deadly weapon...

Literary qi, like his own unsettled qi, was only a final straw in desperate straits.

Finally, one more problem:

Lin Cheng's "Golden Body" wasn't merely his real-world cultivation defenses and allies' aid—it also included the favor and tolerance of Da Zhou's Empress.

The latter was the hardest to break...

【Artisan's Craft】 had been returned to its case.

In the dark study, silence reigned.

The young man before the desk rested his chin on his hand, as if listening silently to cicadas.

The next day.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong arrived at the Jiangzhou government office.

He hadn't even warmed his seat.

"Magistrate Ouyang Magistrate Ouyang Lianghan, come out."

A cold, imperial-garbed girl suddenly appeared and called him outside.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong glanced—Rong Zhen, the female scribe, wore a stony face, with faint, indescribable melancholy beneath her eyes.

He followed silently.

"Have you eaten?"

"I... haven't."

"Come, let's eat. Same place."

"Alright."

Without further words, the two walked out, one behind the other.

(End of Chapter)