Chapter 90: The County Magistrate and the Siege Brawl

Inside the county office, the magistrate stood respectfully before a divine statue, dressed in ordinary attire.

The statue wore a white cloud crown and draped in a pale yellow silk robe.

Its surface was adorned with patterns of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, dragons, pheasants, ritual vessels, algae, fire, powdered rice, axe, and fu.

Its face was benevolent, yet radiated an aura of solemn authority without need for anger.

It sat cross-legged upon a Bagua Taiji chair like a dragon coiled and a tiger crouched.

Most peculiarly, the statue was lifelike—not painted in ink-wash style.

It seemed utterly out of place among its surroundings, yet strangely harmonious.

The magistrate felt nothing amiss; he murmured to himself: “Every time this happens, outsiders arrive—utterly clueless about death.”

“Even the imperial court dares not interfere, yet these idle wanderers love meddling in such affairs.”

“They have no sense of heaven’s height or earth’s depth; their deaths mean nothing.”

“If he has sense enough to leave the county, I’ll let him go.”

“But if he’s foolish enough to disrupt the grand sacrifice…”

“Then don’t blame me for showing no mercy—I’ll kill him and offer him as sacrifice.”

“Even if his noble family comes seeking him, I’ll have justification: he disrupted the ritual first.”

“And by then, I won’t fear them anymore.”

“Not even the Wang, Xie, Huan, or Yu families can touch me.”

…

At the border between Tongchang County and Shandan County.

In a forest beside the official road, a dozen shadowy figures lay in ambush.

Most wore gray shirts, gray trousers, and Luo hats, wielding clubs and other weapons—clearly retainers of a noble house.

One retainer spoke to the leader: “Brother Li, we’ve been waiting here two hours already—where’s the target?”

The leader, Brother Li, dressed the same, except his robe was bluish-brown.

Brother Li growled: “Xiao Hu, how can you be so unsteady? This is the master’s order—even if we wait a full day and night, we stay here.”

Xiao Hu hurriedly replied: “But it’s so boring! The mountains are full of interesting things, yet we can’t leave.”

Brother Li snorted: “You dare defy the master’s command? Stay put—or I’ll tell your uncle.”

At the mention of being reported, Xiao Hu instantly fell silent.

Still, Brother Li was displeased.

He thought to himself: If you weren’t the steward’s nephew, your temperament would never earn you a mission like this.

If you had no connections, I’d have made you clean the latrines long ago.

Sigh… though this mission promises merit, it’s also troublesome.

The Zhang family’s daughter eloping with a retainer has become a laughingstock in Changdu.

The Zhang patriarch flew into a rage, deploying retainers and agents to block all roads around Changdu’s neighboring counties.

He also purchased intelligence from Anye Tower to track the Zhang daughter’s whereabouts.

The border between Tongchang and Shandan counties is precisely where Anye Tower indicated she was most likely to pass.

Hence, the Zhang patriarch stationed large forces here—hence Brother Li’s view of this as a chance for merit.

As for why a lowly retainer like Brother Li knew so much…

Because one of his roles was an Anye Tower spy—he naturally understood the inner workings.

Yet this mission was not as simple as it seemed.

According to Anye Tower’s intelligence, the Zhang daughter’s elopement partner was indeed a retainer.

But this retainer was exceptionally capable—he was rumored to have reached the peak of Internal Refinement and Marrow Transformation.

And he was only in his twenties; with such talent, he should become a Limit-Breaker before thirty.

Marrying the Zhang daughter to him wouldn’t be beneath her.

So why did the Zhang patriarch make such a fuss?

Why publicly shame his own retainer’s status just to force his daughter back?

Even Anye Tower’s intelligence division couldn’t understand.

As Brother Li pondered this, Xiao Hu suddenly cried out excitedly: “Brother Li! A carriage ahead!”

Brother Li stared hard—and sure enough, a small black dot in the distance was growing larger.

Brother Li patted Xiao Hu’s shoulder: “You’ve got sharp eyes—even from that distance, you spotted it.”

Xiao Hu grinned proudly: “I’ve had good vision since childhood—I can stare straight at the sun. I deserve half the credit.”

Brother Li was speechless. This brat had no shame—he claimed half the credit outright.

I was just being polite—do you really think sharp eyes matter?

Is there a difference between two hundred zhang and one hundred zhang?

They’re both going to take this road anyway.

Forget it. I won’t argue with this brat—just finish the mission first.

…

Along a yellowish dirt road, a figure moved like a ghost, swift as wind.

Each step covered eight to nine meters; his training robe flapped loudly—he outpaced ordinary galloping horses.

The figure was Fang Shi.

After leaving the city, Fang Shi encountered countless houses built along the outskirts.

Markets, slaughterhouses, workshops—crowded, bustling, even livelier than the county seat.

Farmland and irrigation systems stretched out; green wheat sprouted in the fields, brimming with vitality.

Yet all of this had appeared out of nowhere—yet those living here accepted it as normal.

Fang Shi’s heart chilled; he hurried toward the remains of the Corpse Liberation Immortal.

He thought: If the elder granted me his legacy, he wouldn’t deceive me.

Though the elder was long gone, such beings—even with only their remains—held immense power.

But the Wan Shen Cave was gone—vanished without a trace.

In its place stood a bustling marketplace teeming with people.

Fang Shi’s heart sank; he sprinted toward the official road.

He had confirmed: two hundred li beyond Tongchang County lay Shandan County.

At his speed, he’d reach it in roughly two hours.

He needed to confirm: how vast was this world?

…

Before a carriage stood a slender, handsome man in tight-fitting attire, facing over a dozen Zhang retainers.

The leader, Brother Li, said: “Third Miss, stop hiding. The master misses you deeply after all these days away.”

The slender man replied coldly: “I doubt it’s missing you want—more like skinning me alive and flaying my bones.”

“That old dog Zhang Xuanming—if he truly missed me, why send men to hunt me down? Why not just write a letter?”

“How dare you!” Brother Li roared. “Zhang Cheng, you lowly scum, how dare you insult the master?”

“The Zhang family fed you, clothed you, housed you—and you dare abduct the third miss?”

Zhang Cheng sneered: “If laboring from dawn to dusk for barely enough food counts as kindness, then I have nothing to say.”

Brother Li continued yelling: “Lowly scum! Without the Zhang family, you’d have starved to death in the famine. You don’t even thank them for giving you work—you scorn their kindness!”

Hearing this, Zhang Cheng laughed loudly: “What famine? Wasn’t it caused by your Zhang family damming the upstream rivers?”

“Such an act of unspeakable cruelty—and you still call it kindness?”

Brother Li, not merely a retainer, knew the truth behind the famine.

The cause: Changdu suffered frequent floods; under the former governor’s initiative, regional noble houses jointly built a dam.

It took an entire generation to complete.

Once built, the dam should have stored water during floods and released it during droughts.

But the Zhang clan patriarch developed another plan.

Eight years ago, during drought, he deliberately withheld water—triggering famine downstream.

Normally, such a sin against heaven would be blocked by the government and other noble houses.

Yet the Zhang family succeeded anyway.

The consequences were devastating: countless fields turned barren, taxes unchanged, famine arrived.

The Zhang family and other noble houses seized the land of ruined farmers.

Zhang Cheng was among those who lost everything that year—his hatred was unsurprising.

Still, Brother Li clung to his role: “You lying dog! Don’t spread false tales—the famine was a natural disaster. The Zhang family showed mercy by taking in your ruined families.”

As he spoke, he bowed respectfully toward Changdu.

“Yet you, ungrateful wretch, betray the Zhang family—you deserve death.”

Then Brother Li signaled his men with a glance.

A chorus of insults erupted from the other retainers.

Their words were so elegant, their rhetoric so splendid—they painted a magnificent blue dragon across Zhang Cheng’s forehead.

As the saying goes: two fists can’t fight four hands; in insults, one mouth can’t match many.

Zhang Cheng tried to respond several times, but each time the retainer across from him drowned out his voice with a loud shout.

His fists clenched tightly; if not for his injuries, how could a mere dozen or so untrained retainers possibly hold him back?

I need to find an opportunity to kill that leader first—the one in the dark brown-green robe.

Then, while they’re in chaos, carve out a path to escape.

Swish!

Zhang Cheng instantly drew the large knife hanging at his waist and slashed toward Li Ge.

Li Ge had been watching Zhang Cheng closely; seeing him draw his blade, he shouted: “Everyone, charge! This lowly creature is wounded—don’t be afraid!”

Saying this, he led the charge forward.

Seeing their leader move, the retainers roared and rushed in as well.

Crash!

The iron-made great knife struck the ironwood staff—and failed to cut through it.

The blade got stuck halfway, slowing his withdrawal.

With just that one strike, Li Ge was certain: the rumor of Zhang Cheng’s severe injuries was true.

If Zhang Cheng had been at full strength, this blow alone would have shattered at least half the staff.

Still, after a few exchanges, Li Ge feigned defeat, was knocked to the ground, and rolled aside.

Just as Zhang Cheng moved to pursue, the other retainers surged forward, raining down clubs.

With no choice, Zhang Cheng had to defend himself to avoid injury.

Thus, both sides became locked in close combat.

With no great disparity in raw strength, even Zhang Cheng’s martial training could not break through effectively.

If it were one-on-one, Zhang Cheng could kill each retainer in two or three strikes.

But now, many against one.

Every time he tried to press his advantage, to land a killing blow, the other retainers’ attacks forced him back, compelling him to defend.

By the time he finished defending, the retainer who had been on the defensive rejoined the fray.

Repeating this cycle, Zhang Cheng exhausted himself without landing a single effective kill.

Had the encirclement been wider, allowing more than six to attack at once,

And had Zhang Cheng not used his footwork to fight while retreating, he would have been beaten to death long ago.

Damn it! Zhang Cheng thought inwardly—Li Ge, the leader, is no ordinary man.

His first strike, though not at his peak strength, still carried seven-tenths of his power.

At that speed, any ordinary internal cultivator should have been unable to react.

Yet Li Ge caught it outright, foiling Zhang Cheng’s escape plan.

How could a man with such strength be nothing more than a lowly retainer supervisor in the Zhang household?

Zhang Cheng couldn’t figure it out—and didn’t have time to try.

He focused entirely on finding openings in the retainers’ formation; he refused to believe these untrained men could coordinate flawlessly.

If he could seize just one chance, they would collapse.

Now!

Because the retainers had never trained together, two of them struck their clubs together during an attack.

Instead of surrounding Zhang Cheng effectively, their defense opened wide.

Zhang Cheng swung his great knife—cutting off one retainer’s arm, spurting hot blood.

Without prompt treatment, he would bleed to death.

The impact of this strike was enormous.

The retainers had been attacking Zhang Cheng only because of their numerical advantage, their morale high and fearless.

Now they saw blood—especially such a grievous wound, an amputated arm.

Their morale plummeted instantly; their strikes lost power.

Zhang Cheng seized the moment, cutting down the nearest few; the remaining retainers, sensing the tide had turned, began to flee.

But Li Ge suddenly emerged from nowhere and struck Zhang Cheng’s back.

The wooden club slammed into Zhang Cheng’s back; his throat turned sweet, his strength faltering.

The blow that should have killed a retainer was now easily blocked by the panicked man.

Li Ge shouted: “He’s done! Attack! Reward five strings of cash for injuring him, one hundred strings for killing him!”

As soon as he spoke, the remaining retainers’ breathing grew heavy.

Though they were Zhang household retainers, their annual income was only five strings.

Injuring Zhang Cheng meant a full year’s pay.

Who wouldn’t be tempted? And what if it was me who killed him?

That’s twenty years’ income.

They weren’t fools—they could see Zhang Cheng was truly spent.

Gasping, weak, the chance to earn silver was real.

Clever Xiao Hu, who had been hiding behind shouting encouragement, now felt the lure of the reward.

He no longer held back—he stepped forward, eager to land the final blow.

Just two or three steps in, Xiao Hu suddenly noticed a figure approaching swiftly along the distant official road—the distance closing rapidly.

“Li Ge, a skilled fighter is coming this way!”

Li Ge, startled by Xiao Hu’s warning, froze. A skilled fighter? Is he ours—or Zhang Cheng’s?

Please, let there be no unexpected turn.

But when he followed Xiao Hu’s pointing finger, he was horrified.

A skilled fighter? This is no fighter—this is monstrous!

As a professional spy, Li Ge possessed certain professional skills.

This man moved at the speed of a galloping horse.

Each step covered at least three zhang—could this be achieved by martial skill alone?

This man was clearly a cultivator.