Chapter 272: The Jianzhu Is Too Cowardly

In late autumn, light rain fell.

Golden fallen leaves drifted into small puddles reflecting the sky, then were crushed under passing cart wheels.

These were grain carts from Fengzhou, marked with the name Wu Lu Merchant House.

Behind the carts, laborers who had worked all year wore straw capes and conical hats, walking alongside toward home.

Though the weather had turned cold, the chill in the air could not dampen the joy on their faces.

At the checkpoint, the rumbling wheels slowed, then stopped.

After passing inspection by Fengzhou's government office runners, they traveled another ten li and encountered another inspection by Zhongzhou's government office runners.

Both inspections were thorough: they searched their bodies, and even poked the grain carts with iron knives.

The laborers found nothing strange, for they had heard that barbarians had appeared in Qingyun Realm a few days prior, and all major sects had sent people to capture them—but none had succeeded.

Thus, not only Fengzhou, but Youzhou and Yunzhou had also imposed martial law; all travelers had to be verified.

In fact, they had already been searched during the autumn harvest, so this was now routine.

"Huh, mutton? Where'd you get that?"

"Respectfully, sir, it's from our own livestock."

"Oh?"

Tie Niu bowed slightly to the officer: "We have several pastures in Fengzhou. I work at one of them—they gave me this when I left."

The three officers gathered together: "So there's such a thing? Who gave it to you?"

"The immortal master who manages our pasture."

"Ah, I see. With this weather, heavy rain's coming soon—hurry along."

"Thank you, sir."

Watching the Fengzhou caravan slowly depart, the older officer sat back on his stool and lifted his teacup.

A new government office runner, watching this, looked puzzled: "Brother Li, we haven't eaten meat in ages—why not ask them for some?"

The officer named Li glanced at him: "Didn't you hear it was given by an immortal?"

"What about the grain on the cart? So much grain—surely we could keep a few sacks? The tax collection season's starting again soon, and my younger brother's quota hasn't been paid."

"That grain is tax tribute. Every dou is accounted for. How many heads do you have to risk?"

"?"

Seeing the newcomer's confusion, veteran runner Wang spoke up: "Those people are from Zhongzhou."

The young runner was surprised: "But private movement is forbidden—how did Zhongzhou's people end up in Fengzhou?"

"More than a year ago, the Wu Lu Merchant House hired many of our state's peasants who couldn't pay taxes to work for them. Our county magistrate happily agreed to let them travel in and out."

Master Wang sipped his tea: "But they could only go if they left their wives and children behind as hostages. Every year at this time, they must return to their registered homes to deliver their full grain quota as tax."

The runner opened his mouth: "There's such a thing…"

"Exactly. Fengzhou's autumn harvest just ended. Wu Lu Merchant House warned our magistrate in advance: the carts carry tax tribute meant for the immortals—fully accounted, fully delivered. Who dares touch it?"

The Wu Lu Merchant House caravan, after a long journey through countless sunrises and sunsets, finally entered Zhongzhou territory.

At this point, Tie Niu and several fellow villagers from his village left the group.

They lived near Zhongzhou's border; after waving farewell to their companions heading farther into town, they returned home with their bundles.

In a courtyard on the east side of the village, Tie Niu's wife was scrubbing clothes in a wooden basin.

Seeing her long-absent husband, this burly man's nose tingled, tears welling up.

His wife, sensing someone, turned with a dazed expression—and upon seeing Tie Niu, gasped, then rose and ran over.

In that brief moment of rising, her own tears had already fallen.

They had known each other for years; now they embraced tightly, their sobs growing louder.

"You heartless bastard!"

"How am I heartless?"

"You… you've gotten fat out there!"

Tie Niu laughed loudly, then lifted the half-sides of mutton.

His wife stared, surprised: "Where'd you get this?"

"The masters gave it to me."

"Was work in Fengzhou hard? Did they beat you?"

Tie Niu shook his head like a rattle: "No beatings. Everyone I worked with was kind. The immortal masters spoke politely. Some things you wouldn't believe."

Tie Niu had left after the New Year last winter. First, he worked for Wu Lu Merchant House, selling grain cheaply to peasants who couldn't afford it after paying taxes.

Then he was taken to Fengzhou and housed by the government.

During spring plowing, he was fed for free; after plowing, he was sent to the pastures.

When he finished speaking, Tie Niu pulled a money pouch from his robe—its silver coins made his wife cover her mouth.

Seeing her expression, Tie Niu smiled and told her their lives would only get better.

Common people knew little of the world; they didn't even understand what the descendants were, let alone how the evil seeds came to be.

Partly because of their low status, partly because they used all their strength just to survive—no time or energy for learning characters.

Precisely because they knew so little, they optimistically believed life would improve, that no more misfortune would come.

Yet even the best days could be shattered in an instant by sudden disaster.

Long ago, humans and demons secretly allied, chose the right moment, and rose up against the descendants, suppressing them with sacred relics.

The scene then was as if heaven itself had collapsed.

Since then, a folk saying had spread: "When heaven falls, the tall ones hold it up."

But in truth, few knew that the tall ones were the ones holding up heaven.

As laborers returned home, Wu Lu Merchant House's grain carts were delivered to the county government office.

The clerks and private secretary had already arrived in the courtyard, cross-checking last year's labor roster, tallying each person's tax quota.

Similar scenes unfolded in other prefectures, as carts passed through streets and alleys.

In An Yuan City, Qingzhou, Yan Shuyi stood on the second floor, watching carts bearing merchant flags enter the government office.

Spring plowing and autumn harvest were trivial matters to cultivators.

Even Yan Shuyi had never paid attention before—but now she watched intently.

Though she hadn't fully participated in the Dongping Mountains affair, she knew well: all sect elders treated the Bu family's incident as a divine opportunity, scrambling to claim it.

Especially those near death, willing to slaughter the entire world to seize it.

Only that aimless fellow always wanted to kill the troublemakers and let the people farm in peace.

At that moment, a Lingjian Mountain disciple assigned to Qingzhou arrived and handed her a letter: "Jianzhu, the disciples searching for barbarians and those from Tianjian Peak have news."

Yan Shuyi took the letter, glanced at it, and her eyelashes trembled: "Issue my decree: all Lingjian Mountain disciples, except those on external missions, return to the mountain within half a month."

"But the Tianjian Peak elders refuse to return, and their disciples can't leave due to the elders' pressure."

"Then tell them: if they don't want to return, never come back."

"Yes!"

The Qingzhou disciple tucked away his jade token and turned to leave, but paused, glancing back toward the guest room.

At that moment, footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Ding Yao walked from the guest room, bowed slightly: "Jianzhu."

Yan Shuyi turned, glanced at her: "Awake?"

"Awake…"

"Where's that aimless Tian Shu Academy disciple?"

"Uh… Master Ji is awake too."

Yan Shuyi had gone to Dongping Mountains fearing the Bu family would fall into greedy hands.

After sensing Bu Qirong's aura vanish, she left with her people—and "accidentally" took the unconscious Ji You to An Yuan City's inn to rest.

According to Zhuo Wanqiu's report, Ji You had scoured Dongping Mountains for the Bu family's trail, exhausting his spiritual sense through intense use and repeated battles—his sleep was inevitable.

But what puzzled her was that not only Ji You, but also Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu had fallen into a deep sleep after reporting.

The young Jianzhu of Lingjian Mountain wondered what those three had done in the mountains. But hearing Ji You was awake, she didn't dwell on it and walked toward the stranger's room.

Tap, tap, tap—her embroidered slippers lightly tapped the wooden floor, then quickly became a rapid patter.

But after only a few patters, the footsteps slowed, becoming graceful and ladylike, her expression growing calm.

She pushed open the door. Ji You sat at the table, eating a bowl of plain porridge.

As Ding Yao said, his exhaustion was immense. Though his spirit had recovered somewhat, his strength hadn't returned, and his muscles ached severely.

Yan Shuyi stepped across the threshold, gazing down at the stranger with regal disdain, then sat beside him.

Sensing the scent of perfume, Ji You lifted his head slightly: "Where are we?"

"An Yuan City."

"How did we end up in An Yuan City?"

Yan Shuyi picked up her chopsticks: "All three of you slept like the dead. We couldn't move far. This is the closest place to Dongping Mountains—we had to leave you here."

When Ji You heard "three," his expression froze briefly—he realized who the other two were.

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu had stayed awake the whole time to avoid dreaming of Master Ji, exhausting their spirits to the brink.

Ji You lifted his head: "What happened after I fell asleep?"

"The elders of all sects still won't give up. They're still investigating the Bu family, tracing their relationships over the years—but so far, they've found nothing critical."

"Still investigating?"

Yan Shuyi nodded: "This matter isn't as simple as it seems—some things don't add up."

Ji You pondered for a while: "You think the Bu family is too small?"

"The Bu family has declined for a hundred years; they can't compare even to minor clans in Zhongzhou, let alone the Zheng family. Yet they accomplished what even the Zhengs couldn't—this is strange."

Hearing this, Ji You couldn't help but recall Bu Qirong's final words before death.

He claimed only he knew the truth, that it was chosen by divine descent—but he wasn't sure if it was truth or a lie to save himself.

Yet after reading countless texts in the Scripture Hall, he knew clearly: over these thousand years, humanity had never abandoned research into the ruins.

But only now had someone secretly uncovered a hint—proving this matter was not easy.

After he killed the Bu family, he cut off the direct possibility of further disaster; even if traces remained, no results would emerge in the short term.

Ji You thought of this, then remembered another matter: "What about the barbarians? Were they caught?"

Yan Shuyi shook her head: "All major immortal sects are busy tracing the Bu family's connections. Only disciples from each sect pursued them. A barbarian chieftain with eight general-kings isn't easy to capture."

"The North has the Execution Immortal Great Array—how did they enter Jiuzhou?"

"The guards at Luoyue Pass are dead—they committed suicide."

Ji You frowned: "Suicide out of guilt?"

Yan Shuyi hummed: "My report says the Luoyue Pass guards secretly colluded with the enemy, using a command token to temporarily open the gate."

"If we ignore the clues, what other methods could open the Great Array?"

"Sacred artifacts."

Those naturally suspicious never easily believe evidence or answers given by others—they always seek deeper layers.

But if the Execution Immortal Great Array could be opened only by the command token held by the Zhenbei Army or by sacred artifacts, then this matter was enormous.

Yet the problem was: those who held sacred artifacts were already the strongest in Qingyun—why would they need to secretly ally with the barbarians?

Ji You pondered long, then suddenly heard Yan Shuyi's voice beside his ear.

"My Lingjian Mountain has always been at odds with your Tian Shu Academy. You may wonder why I, the Mirror Master, would protect you—it's not for any other reason, but purely because I admire you."

"Disaster is disaster—it's never divine fortune. The precedent of Qiling proves this. So you did right."

"If you were my Lingjian Mountain disciple, I would surely reward you and make you a direct disciple—but unfortunately, you're not."

"Also, many people saw me take you away in the mountains; afterward, some will surely say I've meddled too much. So after this meal, I'll send you away."

"Don't worry when you return to Tian Shu Academy—if anyone tries to trouble you over what happened in the mountains, I'll personally vouch for you."

Yan Shuyi spoke like a senior in high position, her tone calm and detached.

This was how she imagined she should behave around Ji You: aloof, proud, composed—not the least bit timid.

But Ji You didn't buy it—he reached out and pinched her cheek.

"Send me away after dinner? Is that for my benefit? That's harm."

Their last meeting was before entering the Sage's Sanctuary—he'd threatened her then, saying he'd never let her go.

But after they emerged, this girl didn't even go to Xuwu Mountain—she only dared send letters with stick-figure drawings to threaten him, pathetically cowardly.

Yan Shuyi realized she hadn't intimidated him, yet kept her stern gaze: "You've known me a long time. I've received your care many winters. I won't blame your insolence—but we're not suited for each other."

"?"

"Actually, I've only recently realized: my heart leans toward the Dao—I've long lost interest in romantic entanglements."

As Ji You pinched her, his back had been straight—but now he felt discomfort in his waist.

He reached down and found his belt tied tightly, tightly.

Just as his fingers touched the left strap, intending to loosen it, his expression froze slightly.

His belt had been untied and retied—now knotted into a dead knot.

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu had slept three days like him—they couldn't have untied it.

Besides, his clothes hadn't been changed; only untying and retying his belt made no sense.

That meant the person untied his belt just to untie it.

Ji You suddenly narrowed his eyes and looked at Yan Shuyi.

It made sense—this prideful ghost had been pampered since childhood; her belt-tying skills were truly terrible.

Back in the Sage's Garden, when she kissed him, she'd accidentally untied it several times—he'd had to retie it. A dead knot? Not surprising…

【Leaning Toward the Dao】

【Long Lost Interest in Romantic Entanglements】

Yan Shuyi noticed Ji You had spotted the belt's oddity; she turned her gaze aside, adopting the cold detachment befitting a Master of a Sacred Artifact.

Ji You looked at her: "Mirror Master?"

Yan Shuyi feigned ignorance: "What?"

"My belt was untied—someone carefully inspected something, then tied it into a dead knot. Have you seen any suspects?"

"Ding Yao did it."

"?"

You're good at shifting blame, Ji You thought, glancing at her.

He mentally added: judging by Ding Yao's outburst that night, if she'd untied it, she wouldn't have just untied it—she'd have devoured it.

Seeing he didn't believe her, Yan Shuyi gathered sword qi in her palm, tempted to kill him and be done with it.

Ji You felt the sword qi and instinctively leaned back—then his brow tightened, a hiss escaping his lips.

Yan Shuyi turned: "What's wrong?"

"Some internal injury…"

Master Fang hadn't lived so long for nothing—his iron blade was truly formidable.

Though he ultimately won, he'd taken a solid blow—the blade's aura pierced his waist and abdomen. Add three days of lying still, and the pain felt like his muscles twisting together.

Seeing this, Yan Shuyi's eyes grew thoughtful; the cold pride in them suddenly flickered with warmth.

Ji You was pressing his waist's major acupoints, trying to suppress the pain with spiritual energy, when he saw the slender, prideful ghost gently raise her arms.

"?"

Yan Shuyi tilted her chin, gazing down at him with cold pride—her posture clearly inviting a hug.

Seeing this, Ji You's lips twitched—he thought: this prideful ghost really knows how to switch tactics. Now that she knows I'm injured, she thinks she's in charge again, huh!

Yet facing Yan Shuyi's domineering gaze, Ji You still reached out with both hands—sudden fragrance swept over him.

Lowering his head, the little Mirror Master in his arms still wore her cold, detached expression—as if he were just a chair.

Even Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu knew: their cold, solemn Mirror Master might speak harshly, but she dearly loved being held by her husband.

But because of harm, she hadn't dared to show this feeling since their reunion.

(End of Chapter)