The fifteen-day break at the Martial Arts Academy ended in the blink of an eye. The absence of further murders brought a sigh of relief to everyone who knew about it. From the first murder to the last, seven people died. Based on deduction, only Marilyn and Zong Xuzhi, the son of the Attendant Gentleman Zong Lei, were still alive when Fang Henshui was seen. If he killed these two, he could walk openly on the streets of Chang'an without being recognized.
The Imperial Guards had placed men around these two men, keeping watch at all times. But Fang Henshui didn't act during the most opportune time of the fifteen days. The Imperial Guards were relieved but also somewhat puzzled. What was this guy up to? If he killed to silence witnesses so he could appear in broad daylight without restraint, why did he suddenly stop when only two people remained?
Luo Weiran had been busy with the military expedition ceremony recently, leaving the murder case to Deputy Commander Meng Wudi. His Majesty the Emperor has scheduled the second batch of troops to depart for the Northwest in early February, but the commander has yet to be appointed. However, judging from His Majesty's frequent summons to General Yu Manlou of the Left Martial Guard these past few days, it's highly likely that the task of leading the expedition will fall to him.
Fang Jie learned of this news through the little eunuch Mu San. Mu San serves the Emperor's daily needs in the Imperial Study alongside Su Buwei, performing menial tasks like serving tea and water and making the bed, but he always seems to know more about what's happening in the Imperial Study earlier than others.
Early on the sixteenth day of the first lunar month, Fang Jie returned to the Martial Arts Academy by carriage. He left the shop to Shen Qingshan, who was now increasingly resembling an ordinary proprietress. Fang Jie liked this change in Shen Qingshan; the former Shen Qingshan was sometimes alluring, sometimes aloof, and unpredictable like a madwoman.
He didn't know if it was because she had become more composed after advancing to the ninth rank, or if this change was due to her time with Fang Jie.
In the past two days, Zhang Kuang had been appearing before Fang Jie more and more frequently, always bringing up irrelevant topics. But Fang Jie could easily tell that Zhang Kuang was intentionally or unintentionally steer the conversation towards Prince Yi, Yang Yin. Fang Jie couldn't be sure of Zhang Kuang's purpose, but the change in Zhang Kuang still made him wary.
Fang Jie had met Luo Weiran once and knew about the military departure ceremony in early February. His Majesty would personally escort the army out of the city, with all the civil and military officials and nobles accompanying him. Hongxiuzhao and several other dance troupes had already received official notification that they would be performing in the square outside Taiji Palace that day to send off the army.
Fang Jie was waiting for this day.
However, there was no news from Wu Yidao. Fang Jie had been paying special attention; Wu Yidao seemed to have been staying indoors all this time. Apart from going to the palace to report to the Emperor and spending an hour in the East Warm Pavilion of Taiji Palace, he had hardly contacted anyone else. Of course, news of his entry into the palace was also spread by Mu San. He and Fang Jie had agreed on a special method so that no one else would know.
The method was somewhat disgusting.
Mu San would write the message on a slip of paper and hide it in the carriage of the Incense Exchange Office. It wouldn't be difficult for Fang Jie to approach the Incense Exchange Office's carriage without anyone else's knowledge. The Incense Exchange Office sounded nice, but it was actually a place for emptying chamber pots. Every morning, the eunuchs of the Incense Exchange Office would collect chamber pots from various palaces, empty them into large wooden barrels on the carriages, and then haul them to a specific location outside Chang'an City to be dumped. These carriages passed by the East Twenty-Third Street every morning, and Fang Jie had already observed them closely.
Wu Yidao's side was calm, and Fang Henshui's side was also calm. After the New Year, everything that shouldn't have been calm seemed to have calmed down, but Fang Jie knew that this might just be the calm before the storm. Especially Wu Yidao; the emperor didn't seem to have shown any intention of asking Wu Yidao to hand over the "Goods Circulation Throughout the World" business, but the higher-ups were definitely getting restless. Wu Yidao's refusal to see visitors was a clear stance.
Once those powerful figures' patience wore thin, the storm would likely break as expected.
How Wu Yidao would withstand the combined attack of so many influential figures, Fang Jie didn't know. Regardless of whether the emperor would forcibly take control of the Huotong Tianxia Company, those powerful figures would never let Wu Yidao go. Because Wu Yidao had exposed them as well, and he seemed to be beyond their control.
It seemed that only Wu Yidao's death would erase their secrets.
But would Wu Yidao accept his fate?
Fang Jie only had Shen Qingshan by his side, making him increasingly aware of his own weakness. Finding suitable help at this point was not something easily achieved. However, Fang Jie didn't seem in a hurry, because he knew who to ask for help from.
On the first day at the Martial Arts Academy, the professors barely taught any classes, instead focusing on getting the students focused on archery and recreational competitions in the training ground. No one dared to challenge Fang Jie. After emptying a quiver of arrows, he left the training ground to find books to read in the library. Fang Jie was very interested in the book *Wan Jian Tang Jian Lu Fang Jie*, which Xie Fuyao had read before. He was even more interested in how such a behemoth in the martial arts world could have fallen so suddenly.
Undoubtedly, Wan Xingchen was the most powerful figure in the martial arts world at that time. Since him, no one had been willingly chosen as the leader by all the sects in the martial arts world. But the legends surrounding him were few; even his final fate was unknown. Some said he was killed by assassins sent by the previous dynasty's government, but this was not accepted. With Wan Xingchen's cultivation, unless he wanted to die, who could have killed him? People preferred to believe that Wan Xingchen died of old age.
And why, given the Wan Jian Tang's glory, were the things that remained compiled by others?
For example, this *Wan Jian Tang Jian Lu* was written by an unknown martial arts practitioner. This man seemed to have sparred with disciples of the Ten Thousand Swords Hall before, and more than once. He had compiled the sword techniques he had memorized, but these were undoubtedly only the superficial aspects of the Ten Thousand Swords Hall's swordsmanship.
Fang Jie wasn't particularly interested in swordsmanship, much less in the Ten Thousand Swords Hall and Wan Xingchen.
Of course, he also hoped to glean something from the Ten Thousand Swords Hall's swordsmanship. After all, he currently knew too little, only the old cripple's one-sword technique. Lately, he had been either sparring with Xie Fuyao or reading in the library, trying to figure out a swordsmanship style suitable for himself.
After all, he now possessed Chaolu.
...
...
There weren't many people reading in the library. Those from aristocratic families, with their family backgrounds and the generous gifts of cultivators to guide them, only came to the library when they were bored. And for students from military backgrounds, getting them to settle down and read wasn't easy either.
As Fang Jie entered the library, he naturally placed a bag of peanuts on the table by the entrance. The professor, whose hair and beard were white and whose face was full of wrinkles, would smile and nod at him. This old man couldn't really be called a professor; he seemed more like a handyman.
His daily routine consisted of cleaning the library and recording the books borrowed by students.
He looked to be at least seventy-five, if not eighty. But his teeth were remarkably good. Fang Jie had noticed him eating peanuts on his previous visits, so whenever Fang Jie came, he would buy him a bag from the cafeteria. Every time Fang Jie saw this old man, he thought of his grandfather from his previous life, also frail and old, yet defying age. On summer evenings, his grandfather always liked to sit by the door, drinking half a bottle of beer and eating a few peanuts.
He only ate a few because his grandfather had very few teeth left. Finishing a peanut wasn't easy.
Fang Jie smiled at the old man, then walked to a spot by the window, sat cross-legged on the floor, and pulled out a half-read copy of the Wan Jian Tang Sword Records from the bookshelf.
Fang Jie discovered that the sword techniques recorded in this book were all characterized by their powerful, sweeping movements and fierce, aggressive style. It wouldn't be difficult to adapt them into saber techniques with slight modifications. However, these sword techniques were incomplete, fragmented. The martial artist who originally wrote the book seemed to have only a vague recollection of them.
Fang Jie studied them for a while, then closed his eyes and imagined what these sword techniques would look like. He then replaced the sword in the hand of the little figure in his mind with a straight saber and attempted to execute the techniques. After meditating for some time, Fang Jie could always find a move or two suitable for Chao Lu's saber technique.
The library was quiet, with few people reading. Fang Jie seemed unaware that about five meters away, next to another bookshelf, Marilyn was also sitting and flipping through books. She would occasionally glance up at Fang Jie, but he couldn't see her, and she didn't seem particularly disappointed.
In her hands was a military treatise written by General Li Xiao during the reign of Emperor Taizong.
The standard-issue horizontal sword used by the Sui Dynasty was a pure straight blade, without any curve. This differed from the waist swords Fang Jie had seen in TV dramas before, and bore some resemblance to the swords of the Japanese from his previous life. However, Fang Jie knew that the Japanese swords were also modified from the Tang Dynasty's straight sword design. The biggest difference between the straight swords and longswords of the Sui Dynasty in this world was that longswords were edged on both sides, while straight swords were edged on only one side, and straight swords were also heavier and more solid. Many people felt that swords were merely ornaments; for killing, a sword was far more powerful and satisfying.
The Morning Dew Sword was modeled after the standard horizontal sword, but slightly longer. It had reached the limit of its length; any longer, whether carried at the waist or strapped to the back, would make drawing it very difficult. The Morning Dew Sword had no scabbard, perhaps because the person who forged this precious sword had considered this from the beginning. Such a long blade would make drawing or sheathing it difficult.
Or perhaps, the person who forged the Morning Dew Sword did not want the scabbard to obscure its sharpness.
Fang Jie watched the sun set, then got up and stretched. He tucked a withered leaf he'd picked up on his way to the library a few days earlier between the pages of the book he'd just seen. This small gesture intrigued the old man who looked after the library.
"Why didn't you just fold a corner?"
He walked shakily to Fang Jie's side and asked.
Fang Jie smiled and said, "I have OCD. I can't sleep if I fold a corner."
This was obviously a joke, but the old man nodded seriously and said, "Only those who love books can find what they're looking for. Young man, have you found it?"
Fang Jie smiled and shook his head: "No, but I'm not in a hurry."
The old man hummed in agreement, turned and went back inside. The abrupt end to the conversation made Fang Jie feel a little uncomfortable, but old people are like children, and this becomes more pronounced with age, so Fang Jie didn't mind.
Just as he turned to leave the library, he suddenly frowned. Immediately afterward, a familiar yet long-absent sharp pain shot through his lower abdomen. The excruciating pain was unbearable. Fang Jie's body swayed; he reached for the bookshelf to steady himself, but it didn't stop him from falling.
With a thud, his head slammed against the floor.
The pain came like a landslide, catching Fang Jie completely off guard and knocking him to the ground. In an instant, his hospital uniform was soaked with sweat. His limbs involuntarily curled up, his body contorted into a ball. Every muscle in his body tensed and hardened, as hard as rock.
He vaguely heard Marilyn's scream and vaguely saw someone running towards him.
But soon, he lost consciousness.