Chapter 241: The Voice Arrives Before the Man (Revised)

The turmoil at Mount Li Sword Cottage, deliberately amplified by those with ulterior motives, spread throughout the surrounding states by the next morning.

Southern officials secretly crossed the border, colluding with southern poison shamans to murder the veteran sect master Li Huaichuan during his routine mountain patrol, and severely wounded Lu Yan, the elder of the orthodox path who rushed to investigate.

This vile act ignited a massive uproar across court and countryside; countless righteous individuals spontaneously flocked to Lizhou to hunt down these southern bandits who showed no respect for Northern Zhou.

Liu Danggui, the patriarch of the Xuanhuang Sword Tomb and the northern martial arts leader, had no personal ties to Li Huaichuan, but his own master had once been comrades-in-arms with the founder of Mount Li Sword Cottage; upon hearing the news, he immediately issued a nationwide manhunt order.

As the representative of Northern Zhou’s Daoist sect, the Zhanyan School could not remain indifferent; its ancestral temple, Huang Lin Temple, promptly ordered all affiliated sects to seek out this youth.

The reason they did not issue a “Decree of Annihilation Against All Sects” was purely because Xie Jinhuan’s identity was too special and his reputation as a hero too great—without clarifying the truth, they dared not strike decisively.

Northern Zhou’s cultivation world consisted of four branches: Dao, Buddhist, Martial, and Witch. But the Buddhist sect followed the path of asceticism; due to their nature, they withdrew from worldly affairs and practiced in cold, remote lands, refusing to interfere in secular matters. Thus, only the Dao, Martial, and Witch factions held real influence in Northern Zhou’s orthodox path.

Now that the leaders of both Dao and Martial factions had issued arrest orders, all eyes naturally turned to the Zhujì Sect, which governed the imperial witch cult under the Taichang Temple.

The Zhujì Sect was revered as Northern Zhou’s state religion; its patriarch, Chen Chi, held a status equivalent to Lu Wu’s before his demotion—his word carried imperial weight, and even the emperor treated him as “Imperial Grand Sacrificer” with the utmost respect.

With a supreme cultivator stationed in Lizhou murdered and a vice minister of the Taichang Temple assaulted by southern cultivators, Chen Chi had to provide an explanation—whether for the order of the cultivation world or for state law—or he would lose the people’s trust.

Yet what puzzled countless cultivators was that, despite such a grave insult, the Taichang Temple unusually fell silent, offering no response for a long time.

Thus, by noon, public outrage erupted: cultivators cursed the Zhujì Sect for lacking spine, while court censors and remonstrating officials shouted that if they couldn’t handle it, they should resign.

Faced with this tidal wave of public anger, Chen Chi was truly powerless—this was no simple case of bandits causing chaos; clear forces were stoking the flames, aiming to escalate the matter.

Xie Jinhuan was favored by the Southern Emperor, and his heroic reputation ran deep among the southern populace. If Northern Zhou launched a manhunt, even if the Southern Emperor wished to avoid war, he would still have to mobilize troops to pressure the border; if Xie Jinhuan truly died during the hunt, war would be inevitable.

Though the Southern imperial clan was chaotic, its strength remained evident—it had not yet crumbled. With such a compelling pretext for war, soldiers and civilians alike would rally with bitter resolve, and their combat effectiveness would not be lacking.

Northern Zhou’s situation, however, was not as strong as it appeared on the surface. The matter of the “Young Emperor assuming power” had split the court into two factions; Empress Dowager Guo’s authoritarian rule had left regional magnates and even the northern and western deserts seething in silent resentment, quietly plotting behind the scenes.

If war truly broke out, Northern Zhou had no guarantee of victory. Should it appear weak or lose territory, Empress Dowager Guo might be overthrown by a coalition of all opposing forces.

Empress Dowager Guo’s directive to Chen Chi was to handle the matter quietly, suppress it swiftly, and ensure not a single hair on Xie Jinhuan’s head was harmed.

As a member of the Empress Dowager’s faction, Chen Chi knew this task was impossible, but for the sake of the greater good, he had no choice but to comply—he secretly dispatched agents to search for Xie Jinhuan, while publicly spinning endless empty words, outwardly firm but subtly conveying:

“The Great Zhou governs by law; everything requires evidence. Only after thorough investigation can justice be fairly administered. I know everyone is anxious, but please remain calm…”

…

Yet among all, the most agitated were the Southern envoy team and Xie Jinhuan’s old man!

The Princess of Changning had since been elevated to Princess of Daqian; the Northern Zhou court treated her with great importance, assigning her lodging to a grand mansion on Duanli Street.

At noon, crowds gathered outside the mansion’s main hall; Li Jing, the head of the Imperial Academy, along with accompanying immortals Jing Wuniang and Jingkong Monk, were in heated discussion, while Yang Dabiao, Fei Ji, and others rushed in and out, reporting the latest news gathered from outside.

The Southern scholars who had come along were supposed to stay at the Sifang Pavilion and accompany their masters on exchanges across the land, but now many fiery youths had rushed to the courtyard, clamoring in fervent protest.

Wang He, the top “milk” of Chongwen Academy, now stood with hands on hips, furious:

“Northern Zhou truly insults us beyond endurance! Master Xie is so upright—his past deeds are plain for all to see. If Li Huaichuan had done nothing wrong, how could Master Xie have laid a hand on him?”

Zhang Huaiyu, a scholar from the National Academy who had come for exchange and study, added:

“Exactly. Brother Xie was afflicted with the Bliss Curse in the Golden Pavilion—he saw only demons and monsters being slain; his heart held no selfish desires. How could he have randomly murdered Li Huaichuan? What could Li Huaichuan possibly possess that would tempt Brother Xie?”

“Right! This is Northern Zhou setting a trap to provoke us, aiming to ruin our Daqian talents…”

“Master Xie suffers this injustice—how can Daqian stand idly by? If Northern Zhou wants war, let them have it—we won’t spare our seven-foot bodies…”

…

Princess Zhao Ling, dressed in an elegant gown, stood on the steps, facing the furious crowd. In truth, she was angrier than anyone—she longed to grab a sword and storm the palace to demand answers from Empress Dowager Guo.

But as the highest-ranking official of this mission, Zhao Ling, though seething with a thousand grievances, had to focus on the north-south situation; she now merely soothed calmly:

“Everyone, please don’t panic. I’ve already sent an urgent letter to Luojing by eight-hundred-li express. Grand Secretary Chen is negotiating with Northern Zhou’s Ministry of Rites—this matter will soon be resolved…”

Duoduo, deeply concerned for her future master, also spoke gently:

“Yes, everyone, please return and wait for news. Master Xie is a pillar of Daqian—Northern Zhou must give us a satisfactory reply…”

…

In the adjacent room, Linghu Qingmo was nearly frantic, her heart aching for her boyfriend’s safety, desperate to rush to Lizhou herself.

But her going would be useless—this was Northern Zhou’s territory, and even her best friend couldn’t mobilize forces. All they could do now was leverage Daqian’s backing to pressure Northern Zhou’s court and ensure Xie Jinhuan’s safety.

Lin Wanyi paced the room, her worry not only for Xie Jinhuan, but also for her own master!

She didn’t need to guess who the poison shaman beside Xie Jinhuan was—if they both met disaster outside, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Lin Zisu had come hoping the Empress Dowager and Xie Lang might reconcile; she never imagined Xie Lang hadn’t even arrived before the public outcry erupted. Now she soothed softly:

“Auntie, don’t worry. Master Xie is incredibly powerful—he won’t be captured by northern barbarians. He’s probably already back in Daqian.”

“Sigh…”

…

On the other side, the Ministry of Justice’s Chief of the Criminal Bureau!

Xie Wen, dressed in the robe of a Yuenwai Lang, paced within the bureau, his brow furrowed with anxiety, occasionally pulling aside clerks to ask about the situation outside.

Originally, upon hearing Xie Jinhuan was coming, father and son were about to reunite; Xie Wen had been so delighted he couldn’t sleep. Now, he couldn’t sleep even more.

After all, Xie Jinhuan had vanished for three years, then returned to Daqian to achieve great feats—as if he’d forgotten Empress Dowager’s grace—this had already startled Xie Wen. Now, in Daqian, he’d been wildly slaying demons and monsters, behaving so upright it bordered on the bizarre.

And now, upon arriving in Northern Zhou, he first killed a righteous sect master, then assaulted a vice minister of the Taichang Temple—making it clear he didn’t regard Northern Zhou people as human. Even if you wanted to be a spy in the Southern court, you didn’t need to act this convincingly!

The uproar was too great for Empress Dowager to simply silence with a word—she had to answer to ministers, the people, and the cultivation world. But how could she possibly answer?

As Xie Wen pondered this, a clerk suddenly rushed in from outside, whispering:

“Lord Guo, we have news.”

“Oh?!”

Xie Wen immediately stirred, stepping forward quickly:

“What news? Has that madman Xie… Xie Jinhuan been captured?!”

“Captured!”

“Huh?” Xie Wen froze: “Who captured him?”

“The Jiang Immortal just arrived at the bureau!”

“What?!”

Xie Wen straightened, his face full of “Are you mocking me?” irritation:

“Do you even believe that yourself? Xiao Biao is just a girl of her teens; no matter how talented, she has limits—what could she possibly use to capture Xie Jinhuan? Don’t you know who he is…”

The clerk himself found it unbelievable, but since Xiao Biao joined the Xingbu Office, such things had become too common—he was almost used to it, and hurriedly added:

“Absolutely true—he’s locked up in the Xingbu Office dungeon right now. Because the matter is too big, even Commissioner Shen dares not disclose it publicly…”

Xie Wen, seeing this wasn’t a joke, was utterly stunned:

“Why did you lock him in our dungeon?!”

“Where else should we put him? Should we send this hot potato to the Jingzhao Prefecture?”

“You… Shen Cang is clearly out of his mind—his brain’s been kicked by a donkey…”

Xie Wen, responsible for managing prisons, was numb hearing his own son was locked in his own jail—he snatched his robe and ran out, then immediately turned back to order:

“Hurry! Go notify Empress Dowager in the palace—keep it absolutely secret. If even one word leaks, even if I flay you alive, I won’t be able to cover it.”

The clerk obeyed and dashed out…

—

Xingbu Office, dungeon.

The original jailers had all been dismissed.

Outside the solitary cell for high-profile prisoners, Shen Cang and his deputy, Old Wang, stood guard carefully.

That morning, Shen Cang had sensed the public mood turning hostile. Though he didn’t know Xie Jinhuan well—and even feared him—he knew if Xie Jinhuan died before his eyes, he’d inevitably bear the blame.

To get this living ancestor out of his hands as fast as possible, Shen Cang risked his life racing to the capital, requisitioning horses and carts along the way, arriving in the capital in just half a day.

But a new problem arose—how should Xie Jinhuan be handled?

As Chief of the Xingbu Office, if he followed official procedure, since Xie Jinhuan’s case was questionable, he had to bring him back for interrogation. To release Xie Jinhuan privately would be treason—censors would surely exile him to Mobei to herd sheep. But he also couldn’t stop Xie Jinhuan.

Fortunately, Xie Jinhuan truly lived up to his heroic reputation—he was reasonable and voluntarily requested to accompany them back to the Xingbu Office to cooperate with Northern Zhou’s investigation.

Now that he’d delivered the man, Shen Cang’s duty was done; the rest was someone else’s headache. At this moment, he almost wanted to kowtow to Xie Jinhuan.

Inside the cell.

As a high-security cell for political prisoners, the interior was spotlessly clean. Meiqiu, imprisoned again, sat obediently in the corner facing the wall, as she’d been taught since childhood, waiting for the official to summon her.

Bu Yuehua, dressed in a floral dress, sat on the edge of the plain bed, still puzzled by Xie Jinhuan’s “voluntary surrender”—in this situation, he should have immediately contacted the Southern envoy; coming here made the aftermath uncontrollable.

Xie Jinhuan sat calmly in the gloomy cell—he knew his father was the Yuenwai Lang of the Ministry of Justice, responsible for overseeing punishment enforcement and prisoner affairs; the head of this place was his own father.

Their last parting had been three years ago at Weizhou’s Three Forks Forest; now, about to reunite in the same place, Xie Jinhuan couldn’t help feeling a rush of eagerness.

But if their relationship were exposed, his troubles in the Southern court would be immense—so this could only remain known between them. Seeing Bu Yuehua’s worry, he soothed gently:

“Don’t worry. Diplomacy between nations isn’t about martial brawls—it’s full of subtleties. Rest well; by tonight at the latest, we’ll be out.”

Bu Yuehua, not restricted, could easily escape—she wasn’t worried for her safety. Bored, she sat by candlelight and noticed Xie Jinhuan hadn’t eaten or washed since yesterday; his hair still clung with grass leaves. She reached out, like a junior mistress, to gently tidy him.

“….”

Xie Jinhuan watched the serene face so close, wondering if shared hardship had stirred some lingering, tender thought—he made no move to stop her kindness.

After only a short wait, hurried footsteps sounded outside, accompanied by voices:

“Old Man! Am I awesome?”

“You’re incredible! You actually captured him?!”

“Hehe? Mostly because Master Xie cooperated—but I did contribute a lot to find him. Lord Guo, you must speak well of me afterward…”

“Don’t worry. With such a great achievement, I’ll submit a memorial to Empress Dowager tonight—she’ll surely entrust you with great responsibility…”

“Wow! Thank you, Lord Guo…”

“Gujii?!”

Meiqiu, hearing the familiar address and voice, immediately dashed toward the iron door.

Xie Jinhuan felt as if he had crossed a lifetime; he quickly pulled Meiqiu back, handed her to Bu Xianzi to hold down, and rose to his feet toward the door…

(End of Chapter)