Chapter 119: The One Who Returned from Death

Jiang Mingyu’s gaze darted urgently toward Liu Yifei, newly rescued, his heart brimming with concern and worry.

In that instant when Tukesulu acted, he felt his heart leap to his throat, fearing any harm to Liu Yifei.

Fortunately, Tukesulu acted decisively and brought Liu Yifei back safely.

Jiang Mingyu exhaled softly in relief, yet still trembled at the memory of the scene.

To save her, he had no choice but to risk everything—if Tukesulu had so much as hesitated, Liu Yifei would have been the victim.

But thankfully, everything unfolded as planned; all five men were eliminated, and Liu Yifei remained unharmed.

Meanwhile, Che Hongda’s face grew increasingly grim.

He could not fathom how Jiang Mingyu had found them so quickly. Did he know Che Hongda intended to kidnap Liu Yifei to the provincial capital? That was impossible—he had left no trace, and the heavy snow had concealed their trail. How could Jiang Mingyu have uncovered even a single clue so fast?

Seeing Che Hongda’s confusion, Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly and explained: “Though you changed carriages and horses, the villages and inns you passed through did not. All I had to do was follow your route and ask around—I found your trail easily.”

“And you were far too careless.”

He reached into his robe and pulled out several women’s ornaments. “See these?”

He held them high, where the sunlight made them gleam with crystalline light.

“Miss Liu left these as markers for me—I traced them back to you.”

“Though many more were buried by snow, these few were enough.”

His tone carried quiet confidence; his eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence.

He fixed Che Hongda with a cold gaze: “Do you understand now? Your plan was doomed from the start. You thought you could outwit me? You’re not even close.”

Che Hongda’s face stiffened, as if frozen in a bitter wind.

He stared at Jiang Mingyu, his mind churning with uncontrollable emotion.

The information Jiang Mingyu revealed sent shockwaves through him—he had been meticulous, yet still exposed.

In that moment, he felt himself standing on the edge of an endless abyss, ready to be swallowed whole.

Che Hongda shook his head slowly, voice heavy with sorrow: “I never imagined—I never imagined. I, Che Ting, would be defeated by a girl. Fate, indeed. What more is there to say?”

His tone carried deep resignation and despair, like a once-mighty warrior now trapped in his own downfall.

The man known as Che Hongda was, in truth, merely the alias he had used to kill Jiang Mingyu.

When Tukesulu heard the name, he visibly paused—but said nothing.

Jiang Mingyu’s expression grew calm. He stared intently at Che Hongda, as if searching his eyes for some hidden answer.

A faint, cold smile curled his lips: “I don’t care if you’re Che Hongda or Che Ting—you’ve learned all you need to know.”

His voice carried cold, unyielding resolve—he no longer entertained any hesitation.

Then his words struck like blades into Che Hongda’s ears: “Take these satisfying answers with you to the grave. Why wait? Kneel and die.”

His final words rose like thunder, echoing across heaven and earth.

Jiang Mingyu’s voice reverberated through the cold valley, reminding Che Hongda: there was no escape—only the inevitable end.

Che Ting bent down and picked up the long knife on the ground.

He knew there was no retreat—he could only fight to the death.

“You think killing me will be that easy? Dream on.”

He held the knife horizontally across his chest, ready to die fighting.

A flash of madness and defiance gleamed in his eyes.

Zhang Jiani had been waiting for this moment.

She hated Che Ting with every fiber of her being—he was one of the men who had harmed Liu Yifei.

She had longed to kill him herself, to avenge Liu Yifei.

“Fine. Let this girl send you to your death—for Yifei’s sake.”

Before she finished speaking, her short sword, blazing with fury, flashed from its scabbard.

With sword in hand, she surged forward like a streak of red lightning.

Che Ting, knowing death was certain, showed no fear—he swung his long knife straight at her.

He meant to drag Zhang Jiani down with him into hell.

Time and again, it had been proven: Zhang Jiani’s skill was no bluff.

Her short sword moved with uncanny agility, always finding Che Ting’s openings.

In less than two exchanges, Zhang Jiani delivered a brutal kick that sent him flying.

A deep, bloody gash split his chest—blood gushed forth.

As Zhang Jiani raised her blade to slit his throat, Tukesulu shouted: “Stop!” Simultaneously, he leapt from his horse, covering several zhang in a single bound, his long sword intercepting hers.

His movement was swift and precise—leaving Zhang Jiani no chance to react.

Zhang Jiani’s fury erupted: “Lecher! What are you doing?”

She glared at Tukesulu, furious he would interfere in her vengeance.

She saw this as her personal feud with Che Ting—none of his business.

Tukesulu’s tone grew urgent: “Keep him alive—he’s useful.”

He met her eyes earnestly: “Once we’ve dealt with what comes next, you can kill him to avenge Miss Liu—it won’t be too late.”

He gave no hint of his true purpose, only implied something greater lay ahead.

He glanced at Jiang Mingyu, hoping for his understanding and support.

Jiang Mingyu knew Tukesulu would never joke about something this critical.

He too believed Che Ting still had value—better to keep him alive for now.

“Miss Zhang, spare his life—for now,” he said, gesturing to her.

He hoped she would heed his words and avoid further trouble.

Even Liu Yifei spoke up: “Yes, Jiani. Tukesulu must have his reasons.”

Though she hated Che Ting with every ounce of her being, she trusted Tukesulu and Jiang Mingyu more.

She believed they would not let him escape justice.

Zhang Jiani finally sheathed her sword with a snarl: “One day, I’ll take your filthy life myself.”

She issued her final warning—she would never forgive anyone who harmed Liu Yifei.

Jiang Mingyu waved to the surrounding cavalry: “Arrest him. Take him to Shangmu Jail. Keep him under tight guard.”

He gave the order—he would make Che Ting understand what true suffering meant.

After Che Ting was taken away, Zhang Jiani’s anger had not yet cooled. She fixed Tukesulu with a furious glare: “Lecher! What’s your meaning?” Her voice trembled with agitation—she could not fathom his actions.

Tukesulu mounted his horse, a faint, relaxed smile playing on his lips—as if he delighted in the nickname. His expression was smug, utterly unashamed of his cheer.

He looked into Zhang Jiani’s eyes, calm and firm: “You may not know—but Che Ting has been dead for years.”

“Dead?” Jiang Mingyu froze, repeating it in disbelief. He could not accept such a bizarre claim. In his mind, Che Ting had always been vibrant, alive—how could he be dead?

Tukesulu coughed into his hand, as if gathering his thoughts, then continued: “About three or five years ago, a notorious assassin appeared in the provincial capital.”

After Che Ting was taken away, Zhang Jiani’s anger had not yet cooled. She fixed Tukesulu with a furious glare: “Lecher! What’s your meaning?” Her voice trembled with agitation—she could not fathom his actions.

Tukesulu mounted his horse, a faint, relaxed smile playing on his lips—as if he delighted in the nickname. His expression was smug, utterly unashamed of his cheer.

He looked into Zhang Jiani’s eyes, calm and firm: “You may not know—but Che Ting has been dead for years.”

“Dead?” Jiang Mingyu froze, repeating it in disbelief. He could not accept such a bizarre claim. In his mind, Che Ting had always been vibrant, alive—how could he be dead?

Tukesulu coughed into his hand, as if gathering his thoughts, then continued: “About three or five years ago, a notorious assassin appeared in the provincial capital.”

His tone carried a hint of mockery, as if drawing them into a gripping tale: “He was cruel, guilty of countless crimes. The mere mention of his name turned people pale—even infants cried at night. His name? Che Ting.”

All listened intently, captivated by Tukesulu’s narration.

“Later, the Inspector ordered a manhunt led by the Yasimo Regional Military Commissioner. After great effort, they captured him.” Tukesulu continued, his voice tinged with fascination.

He went on: “The official who oversaw Che Ting’s execution was none other than the former Yasimo Regional Military Commissioner’s Chief Clerk—Huang Chaoran.”

Zhang Jiani interrupted: “So you mean Che Ting wasn’t really beheaded back then?”

Tukesulu countered: “If he had truly been executed, then who was the man you nearly killed just now?”

“And if it’s merely a coincidence that both men are tied to Huang Chaoran, isn’t that too convenient?” Tukesulu hinted.

He mused thoughtfully: “In my view, Huang Chaoran must have believed Che Ting still had use—he swapped the corpse and saved him.”

Zhang Jiani still looked puzzled: “But what does any of this matter?”

Jiang Mingyu picked up the thread, piecing together Tukesulu’s intent: “Tukesulu’s goal is to cut off Huang Chaoran’s future threats—to avenge Miss Liu and eliminate this danger forever.”

“Think,” Jiang Mingyu murmured, frowning slightly as he stared ahead, envisioning the scene forming in his mind: “What if the Inspector sees a man he knows was executed—alive?”

“In his rage, the first man he’ll demand answers from? Huang Chaoran.” His voice turned sharp, his eyes gleaming with resolve.

“Substituting a condemned prisoner isn’t a trivial offense. Even if he’s still Chief Clerk, he’ll be dragged into this—and punished severely.” His tone carried disdain and wariness toward Huang Chaoran.

“Huang Chaoran is too cunning and treacherous. If we don’t remove him soon, I won’t be able to sleep at night.” His eyes narrowed, revealing a cold, dangerous glint.

Zhang Jiani’s eyes flickered with concern. She asked softly: “But what if Che Ting refuses to confess?”

Jiang Mingyu’s lips curled into a cold smile: “Don’t worry—I’ll make him talk.”

Two hours later, in Shangmu County, the setting sun cast a warm golden glow.

At the moment of parting, Jiang Mingyu turned to Liu Yifei and smiled: “Miss Liu, everything is settled. You may return home and rest.”

Liu Yifei pressed her lips together, smiling: “Thank you, my lord, for saving me.”

“We’re friends now. No need to call me ‘my lord.’ Like Zhang Jiani, call me Yifei.” Jiang Mingyu’s tone was warm, intimate.

This pleased Liu Yifei deeply. She smiled: “All right, Yifei.”

Jiang Mingyu feigned hesitation, frowning: “Is that proper?”

Yet his slightly lecherous expression betrayed his true thoughts entirely.

Fortunately, Liu Yi did not notice this: "My lord need not dwell on it—let it be settled as such."

Jiang Mingyu nodded: "Very well, it would be rude to refuse. Yi Fei, return home and rest early."

Saying this, he turned his horse’s head, preparing to leave.

Yet, Zhang Jiani, who had been silent until now, suddenly called out to him: "Corrupt official, wait."