Undoubtedly, the woman in her mid-thirties was at least approaching the threshold of a minor grandmaster, if not already a second-rank expert.
The Qingmei Fang was no stranger to skilled practitioners, and they quickly discerned her formidable strength—she was not someone to be trifled with.
Her expression cold, she declared, “If my young mistress has offended with her words, the Sword Pool will surely provide an answer. But if anyone seeks to exaggerate matters and falsely accuse the Song family of our Sword Pool, they must first face my Mountain-Carving Sword.”
The crowd suddenly understood—she was a personal retainer of a direct descendant of the Song family.
This was hardly surprising. Among the true martial world clans and sects, it was common for exceptionally talented heirs, especially those newly venturing into the jianghu, to be shadowed by elite protectors to prevent untimely demise.
The Wu Family Sword Mausoleum allowing only the Sword Crown and Sword Attendant to roam freely was an exception.
Chen Tianyuan of the Taibai Sword Sect and Tong Shanquan, the master of the Golden Saber Manor—one a born sword prodigy, the other a female saber saint—were even rarer exceptions.
A murmur spread through Qingmei Fang as some well-informed martial artists whispered among themselves. This woman, who bore the Mountain-Carving Sword, was not only a genuine minor grandmaster but also held an exalted status. In her youth, she had been one of the two sword-bearing attendants of the Sword Pool’s former patriarch, Song Nianqing, and was among the finest non-bloodline sword masters of the Sword Pool, sharing an intimate bond with the mother-daughter pair Jiang Xiuqing and Song Tingquan.
Sure enough, the moment Song Tingquan spotted the woman she called “Aunt,” her courage surged. Just as she prepared to press her advantage, her aunt spoke gravely, “Young Mistress, please return with me to the Sword Pool!”
The girl was stunned.
She keenly sensed that this elder, closer to her than her own aunt, was fixated on the silent swordsman’s back as if facing a mortal threat, her stance poised on the razor’s edge between life and death.
A chill ran down the girl’s spine.
As she reluctantly lowered her head in submission, the young nobleman with the deer antler pendant slowly rose, his smile sinister. “Assaulting a court official in public warrants exile to the northwest for sixteen hundred li under Liyang law. Those who shield the offender shall bear half the penalty—exile to the southern border for eight hundred li.”
Before the Sword Pool grandmaster could protest, the imposing young man added with a smirk, “Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. The official your Song family’s young mistress unjustly assaulted is none other than Li-daren, a secretary of the Liyang Ministry of Justice.”
The middle-aged man straightened his robes and puffed out his chest, exuding an imperious air.
A secretary of the Ministry of Justice—rank six.
Not high in rank, but crucially, a member of the esteemed “pure stream” officials.
To those unfamiliar with the intricacies of the bureaucracy, even if they knew the secretary’s rank, they wouldn’t grasp the position’s current latent influence—especially over the martial world.
Thus, the Sword Pool swordswoman showed no fear. “Unjustly?”
The man laughed heartily. “If this official says it was unjust, then it was unjust!”
The hall erupted in uproar.
As scattered curses began to rise, the young nobleman placed one hand behind his back and leaned the other on the table, his demeanor effortlessly elegant. “As for this official, I humbly serve as an assistant director of the Seventh Bureau of the Ministry of Justice’s Bureau of Scrutiny.”
Nearly all the patrons of Qingmei Fang exchanged bewildered glances.
What was this northern bumpkin trying to flaunt? What Seventh Bureau of Scrutiny nonsense was this?
Xu Baozao and the man at her table, who was shielding a child, sighed almost simultaneously. The girl said helplessly, “The Song family is in big trouble.”
The man lamented, “The Dongyue Sword Pool faces calamity!”
Xu Baozao turned her head smugly. “Do you understand the deeper implications?”
Xu Fengnian ignored her gloating, his gaze oddly fixed on the Sword Pool swordswoman.
Even a clay bodhisattva has a temper, let alone a bona fide sword grandmaster from the Sword Pool. She pushed her sword an inch from its sheath, its gleam sharp, its intent chilling. She sneered, “I only know that whether commoner or official, all under heaven must abide by reason!”
Cheers and applause erupted around her. These were martial artists, after all, united in solidarity with this unyielding sword grandmaster.
The self-proclaimed assistant director, far from being embarrassed at being contradicted, maintained his smile. He casually glanced at the loudest voices before finally showing a trace of deference. “Huang-xiansheng?”
The silent swordsman stood expressionless, facing the Sword Pool swordswoman who held every advantage. “I am Huang Xiaohe of Liaoxi, currently serving in the Ministry of Justice without official rank…”
He paused, then intoned gravely, “I possess only a bronze fish pouch issued by Minister Liu of the Ministry of Justice!”
Every spectator in Qingmei Fang, who had been reveling in the drama, suddenly gulped. Some even began edging toward the exit.
Especially when they saw the number of fish embroidered on Huang Xiaohe’s pouch—six—their blood ran cold.
Rumor had it that in the past two decades, the Liyang Ministry of Justice had secretly recruited martial experts, granting bronze fish pouches only to second-rank minor grandmasters (embroidered with five fish). Only those with outstanding merit earned an additional fish, or first-rank experts newly inducted into the ministry, who were granted six fish.
What most martial artists didn’t know was that these elite recruits were directly overseen by the Bureau of Scrutiny—the very “obscure” department where the young nobleman served.
The Seventh Bureau of Scrutiny handled criminal cases in Dongyue and Baoping circuits, processed documents from twelve offices including the Six Libraries, Military Bureau, Imperial Academy, Directorate of Astronomy, and Imperial Clan Court, and reviewed annual autumn assizes.
Due to its dealings with the Military Bureau, Libraries, and Imperial Clan Court, the Seventh Bureau not only naturally fostered ties with the newly ascendant military officials but also interacted with the influential Library officials and imperial relatives. Thus, among the Ministry of Justice’s sixteen bureaus, the Seventh ranked only below the Capital’s First Bureau and Northern Liang’s Third Bureau. The chief directors of these major bureaus, alongside regional deputy governors, were colloquially known as “little provincial governors,” a testament to their weighty authority.
The Sword Pool swordswoman spoke gravely, “Are you Huang Xiaohe of Liaoxi, the junior brother of the world’s former top left-handed swordsman, Zhang Luantai?”
A flicker of reminiscence crossed Huang Xiaohe’s face, but it vanished instantly as his sword heart clarified. He nodded.
She released her sword hilt and clasped her fists. “He Shanxi of the Dongyue Sword Pool.”
Huang Xiaohe returned the gesture.
The self-styled assistant director sat back down, pouring himself a cup of plum wine. With a teasing glance at the two martial artists, he quipped, “Oh? Regretting not meeting sooner, are we? Huang-xiansheng, shall I order another jug for you?”
Huang Xiaohe, also from the two Liaos, remained impassive. To He Shanxi, he said solemnly, “I hope you will not draw your sword today.”
He Shanxi’s face twisted in bitterness. After exhaling deeply, she pressed her left thumb firmly against her sword hilt, her gaze resolute. “I cannot comply. The Dongyue Sword Pool’s sword energy lies in its length, its sword intent in its depth, its sword heart in its stillness—and its sword path in its straightness!”
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