The Heavens: A Qing, the Yue Girl at the beginning

As the ministers filed out, there was a sudden thunder outside the hall. It was the naval port that was destroying the talisman array components that could not be repaired. Yuan Wu stared at the star pattern crystal embedded in the armrests of the dragon throne.

Xu Fu stood under the altar with his hands hanging down. The glass test tube reflected the faint light of the candle, condensing into a small colorful piece in his palm.

"You said the troubled times in the prosperous times..." Yuan Wu tapped the handrail with his fingers, the bronze dragon pattern hurt his knuckles. The muffled sound of the palace gate slowly closing behind the ministers in the distance crushed the last trace of noise: "Are you dissatisfied that my world is too stable?"

Xu Fu gently placed the pill bottle on the edge of the imperial desk, and the wax seal turned into dust: "Too stable will suppress change, and no change will easily decay, just like the 'Ghost Flying Sword' used by Yin Xun today. However, the temperature is the most difficult to control, just like the human heart is always the most dangerous when it is about to boil."

Yuan Wu lowered his eyelids, and a precious pill made from overseas spiritual medicine naturally jumped into his palm, with a refreshing fragrance: "Looking at the 'grindstone sword intent' contained in the stone ball, the nearly 1 billion yuan distributed to the victims, and the thoughtfulness in the letter, who do you think this person resembles?"

This question came unexpectedly, but Xu Fu seemed to have been prepared. He casually took out a few jade scrolls from his sleeve and placed them on the table. "Lin Zhujiu's scheme is like a spider weaving a web, Wang Jingmeng's sword intent is like a river bursting its banks, and today's villain... is like fishing in the vast ocean."

"What a great way to fish in the vast sea." Yuan Wu suddenly laughed, and the sound of his laughter shook the dust on the beams to fall. Twenty-eight jade talismans flew out of his sleeves, and the star map on the talisman echoed with the stars on the top of the palace: "Mo Shoucheng thinks that I should give Bashan's remnants a good name, what do you think?"

"Righting one's name is like forging a sword. The day the sword is completed is the day to kill the master."

Xu Fu slipped out a bronze ruler from his sleeve, on which was engraved a map of the Qin territory: "But if the sword embryo is quenched in your majesty's furnace..."

He suddenly broke the copper ruler, and what came out of the broken surface was not the metallic luster, but a dark red liquid as thick as honey: "The quenched molten iron will eventually be poured into the mold designed by Your Majesty."

Yuan Wu picked up the pill and examined it against the candlelight. The amber core of the pill seemed to be condensed with traces of blood, which reminded him of the setting sun outside Hangu Pass. "The quenched molten iron has its own shape, but what if this molten iron was originally stolen from someone else's furnace?"

The liquid seeping from the cross section of the copper ruler in Xu Fu's sleeve suddenly condensed into thin threads, weaving into a spider web in mid-air: "That depends on whether the person who stole the fire wants to forge a sword or a plow." He flicked his finger, and the spider web suddenly shrank into drops:

"If that person in the dark wanted peace and order for the world, why would he go through so many detours?"

Yuanwu suddenly felt tired.

This kind of fatigue is different from the exhaustion after practicing. It feels more like something is eating away at the bone marrow.

He looked at Xu Fu's retreating back and suddenly said, "What do you think Wang Jingmeng would do if he were still alive and saw the situation today?"

Xu Fu's body paused slightly, and this slight pause made Yuan Wu's pupils shrink, but the head of the Ministry of Rites did not turn back after all. Only his voice drifted in the darkening night: "The dead cannot speak, and the living do not need to speak for the dead."

The most painful thing in life is when you think you can start to completely forget certain things, but someone keeps forcing you to think about those things. When you think you have won, you find that you have not won.

The gold paint on the Panlong Pillar began to peel off, and the debris condensed in the air into the shape of the person walking on the snow that year.

The star map lit up in the darkness. Yuan Wu stood in the web of interwoven light spots and suddenly remembered what Lin Zhujiu had said when he visited him in prison: "Do you think you can control everything by sitting in the highest position? Little do you know that this position itself is the biggest cage."

"But I want to create the world in this cage."

Yuan Wu sneered at the void, and the jade talismans suddenly exploded, and starlight rained down. He spread his palms in the light rain, watching the ashes of the proposal letter reorganize into words in the starlight - people's livelihood, cultivation, taxation, each word flashed with a sharp cold light.

"No matter what," Yuan Wu finally thought, "I already have Xu Fu, the Queen, the two Prime Ministers Yan and Li, the Thirteen Marquises of the Great Qin, the heads of the various divisions, and millions of Qin troops by my side."

"You want to be the one who fishes, but how can you catch the weight of the entire country with just the fishing line made by others?"

……

As Mo Shoucheng slowly stepped out of the palace gate, a blue-tailed magpie on the eaves suddenly flapped its wings and flew up.

The faint blue color that swept across the three eaves of the imperial city reminded him vaguely of the evening twenty-nine years ago when he first met Wang Jingmeng - in the twilight, the young swordsman who walked out of the remote Bashan Mountains had his first sword fight with the young talent of Changling under his distant gaze, and won an undisputed victory.

"If the Qin people are bullied, every Qin person can take up his sword and stand up. Who in the world dares to bully us Qin people?"

At that time, he was already the strongest practitioner in Qindu Changling, but when he heard these words for the first time, he still felt a long-lost sense of resonance in his heart - not a tremor, but like the Wei River thawing in early spring, the coldness is wrapped in the warmth that brings life to all things.

The wind from the corner tower carried these words around in Mo Shoucheng's ears for thirteen years. Until the bloody night of Changling, when he stood in the same position and watched the beacon fire dye the city red, he suddenly realized that the man's sword could split the mountains, but it could not cut through the gullies in people's hearts.

Those disciples of Bashan Sword Field who fell in a pool of blood, they were once the blue bricks that built this city - the young people who always loved to drink under the osmanthus forest in the past, had "Cut the Unjust" engraved on the blades of their swords, but after drinking they said that what they wanted most to engrave was "Protect the Peace".

Mo Shoucheng stroked the new moss growing in the cracks of the palace wall.

The lights of the city in the distance are like stars falling into the mortal world, and the sound of the clappers of the night watchman announcing the time can be faintly heard.

When Zhao Qing's rolling stone ball crushed over the ships in the naval port, he smelled a familiar sword intent among the flying stone chips. It was not Wang Jingmeng's loneliness, but more like pebbles that had been washed by the river water for years, with their edges and corners polished into a rounded defensive posture.

This reminded him of when he was young and guarding the border in Longxi, he saw border residents embedding whetstones into the gaps in the city walls. Over the years, the stones had grown into the city bricks. The voice in his memory was still as clear as ever: "A real great city should be alive, like a scabbard polished by millions of people together."

Some swords are to cut through the night, some bricks are to support the morning light, and city defenders like myself are just to ensure that there is still enough food in the rice jar behind the city wall when the morning light comes.

……

Deep in the moonlit Huaihua Alley, Ye Celeng's plain cloth shoes alternately fell on the bluestone slabs. She stopped in front of a coffin shop and stroked the soul-calming talisman painted with cinnabar on the door panel with her fingertips - there was an inconspicuous gap in the third stroke of the talisman.

"Sir, would you like a coffin or a paper one?"

The oil lamp leaking through the crack in the door suddenly shot up three inches. The hunched back of the shopkeeper Old Wu cast a rugged black shadow in the pile of paper horses. The paper man he was making had a green shirt pasted on it. The paper man was tightly grasping a small paper sword, which was engraved with the unique cloud pattern of Bashan Sword Field.

A half copper coin slipped out from Ye Ce's sleeve and brushed against the rust on the door bolt. The faded red rope swung in the cold wind to form a half crescent moon. "I want seven cypress coffins, with yin-yang fish carved on the coffin heads."

Her voice and the extremely faint sound of the piano rang out at the same time. The stringless sound crawled along the bluestone road like a snake spitting out its tongue.

……

Almost the same moment.

In the undulating mansions of Changling, in the luxurious and deep courtyard, in an elegant study, on the precious rosewood bookshelves, there are densely packed with various books and volumes. Although some of them look shabby, they are all extremely valuable and rare treasures.

There was no paper or pen on the desk, only an open volume of "A Study of the Qin-Chu Alliance" and a pot of white orchid.

Li Lingjun stroked the celadon teacup with his fingertips, and the tea residue left a dry landscape pattern on the bottom of the cup.

Lu Siche stood with his hands hanging down by the openwork door frame with Kui pattern five steps away. This distance showed respect without making his master feel oppressed - since the Chu Palace Incident, the rules in the hostage house have become more subtle.

The candlelight stretched the shadows of both sides and cast them onto the wall of bookshelves. The bamboo slips that recorded the customs of Chu were silent in the shadows, like soldiers lined up waiting for inspection.

"Your Highness really wants to borrow Qin's blade to cut down the Chu banner?"

The aide's eyes repeatedly swept over the seal that was hidden in the emperor's sleeve and vaguely revealed its outline. Finally, he could not help but speak. The jade pendant on his waist trembled slightly with his uneasy pace, just like his unspoken questions.

Li Lingjun suddenly clenched the corner of the table.

The blue veins on the pale back of his hand bulged like twisted branches, and his knuckles pressed against the edges of the Chu King's seal box. The pain reminded him of the bone-chilling chill that penetrated into his meridians when Yuan Wu's fingertips touched his shoulder blade this morning.

The sound of the patrolling guard's leather boots outside the window just happened to roll over the cracks between the bluestone bricks, crushing the faint fragrance of the white orchid on the desk.

"Your Majesty Yuanwu has great ambitions."

Li Lingjun suddenly turned around, and the wind from his wide golden sleeves blew out the two chandeliers. In the suddenly dim light and shadow, a cold voice like a jade chime came out: "Since you have entrusted me with the seal of the King of Chu, why worry about the dark wind and rain?"

"Si Che ah..." Li Lingjun suddenly dragged out his voice, picking up the white jade paperweight on the desk with two fingers and playing with it. The warm luster made the newly dyed black color of his temples more abrupt. "Why do the orchids in this courtyard never bloom red?"

Lu Siche's Adam's apple moved slightly: "Maybe... the climate and soil are not suitable."

"Water and soil?" Li Lingjun sneered and slammed the paperweight heavily on the rosewood table.

He suddenly stood up and walked to the antique shelf, running his fingertips across the dusty bamboo slips: "I remember your hometown is in Yunmengze? The pirates there..." He casually pulled out a volume of "Chunan Fengwuzhi", and the pages shook off the fine dust: "Are they still rampant?"

"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty, since three years ago..."

"Snapped!"

The clear sound of the bamboo slips falling to the ground cut off the unfinished words.

Li Lingjun turned his back to him and untied the jade crown that bound her hair. There were a few strands of gray in her drooping black hair. "Send someone to the posthouse in the south of the city tomorrow to bring the musician from Jiujiang County into the palace and have him play the song 'Chu Xie'."

Lu Siche's fingers suddenly clenched in his sleeves. This musician was a secret agent planted six months ago, specializing in gathering information about merchants and travelers. If he rashly used this chess piece at this moment, it would be tantamount to cutting off his own eyes and ears.

He lowered his head and stared at a half-dead leaf in the cracks between the floor tiles - that was the autumn scenery of Dongting Lake that was sent by fast horses from Chu yesterday: "Your Majesty, if we mobilize people at this time, I am afraid that Yuanwu will be suspicious..." "I will kill a few people."

The light words fell along with the sound of the night watch, and when Li Lingjun turned around, he had a warm smile on his face.

He bent down to pick up the bamboo slips, wiping them carefully as if brushing off the dust from a treasure: "The bastard of Tian Fengchang's family, the widow Zhao from the rice shop in the south of the city..." When he put the jade crown back on, he uttered the third name: "And, the wine seller who lived in Baiyang Cave."

Lu Siche felt the cold sweat oozing from the back of his neck and flowing down his spine.

Tian Fengchang was an old subordinate of Nie Yinshan, the old general who fought against Han. His son once scolded Lord Liling for being cowardly when he was drunk; Ding Ning, who opened a wine shop under Wutongluo, humiliated and rejected the Lord's kindness in the street; as for Widow Zhao... he suddenly remembered the colt in the mansion that was frightened by the water when he was patrolling the streets half a month ago.

"Your Highness, the Qin laws are strict. These three people are all registered in the Changling Household Department..." The scholar had just begun to advise, but his master added nonchalantly: "And the one-eyed old clerk who settled accounts for Zheng's company in the West Market dared to withhold the Jiaosha I ordered last month."

As he said this, he was taking a black lacquered wooden box from the antique display cabinet. When the lid of the box was opened, the cold sword energy leaked out, and the orchid on the desk was so frightened that three petals withered instantly.

"I know what you are worried about." Li Lingjun picked up the jade talisman in the box and rubbed it gently. The words "Wind and Thunder" engraved on the talisman glowed with a faint blue luster under the candlelight. He walked towards the military strategy rack on the west side of the study with his wide sleeves fluttering in the wind: "So I specially borrowed twelve shadow guard talismans from Lord Xu."

"I hate those who are servile and insignificant." He suddenly raised his voice, startling the night owl perched under the eaves. "These parasites usually bully the market, and now I have to teach them a lesson..."

The words stopped abruptly. Lu Siche looked at his master's frozen back and suddenly noticed a new light golden pattern on the back of his neck - it looked like a talisman, or some kind of ancient sword mark.

"It's three quarters past midnight." When Li Lingjun turned around again, the sullen look on his face had melted into a spring breeze-like smile. He arranged the jade talismans one by one on the military strategy rack, with the distance between the talismans exactly the same: "Ask the kitchen to warm up two cups of goat's milk and send it over. You can go and rest now."

When the night watch drum sounded three streets away, twelve dark shadows rushed out from the wall at the backyard of Liling Jun's mansion.

The breath-avoiding runes on their dark suits blended perfectly into the night. Only when they passed the back alley of Nanshi Cloth Shop, a flash of lightning accidentally leaked from the cuffs of a dark shadow, startling the old beggar curled up on the straw mat.

The old beggar's cloudy eyes reflected the direction where the black shadows disappeared, and suddenly a strange "ho ho" sound came from his throat.

Trembling, he took out half a piece of oil-stained paper from his arms and used the moonlight to make out the neat, newly printed words on it - it was the "Health Preservation and Physical Training Secrets" that Zhao Qing had distributed during the day.

When the fourth watch gong sounded seven times, Li Lingjun stood alone under the eaves. The night wind blew up his untied hair, revealing a few strands of gray that had not been dyed completely. He smiled at the silent mansion, and when he turned around, he was the bright and handsome hostage again.

The lanterns under the veranda stretched the hazy shadow very long, like a skinny dragon crawling on the ground.

……

The lingering sound of the night watch drum at the hour of Chou still lingered in the streets and alleys, and the lid of the cypress coffin in the backyard of the coffin shop in the south of the city had quietly slid open half a foot. Ye Celeng's white skirt swept across the secret compartment at the bottom of the coffin, and her green fingertips tapped out a rhythm of three long and two short beats on the dusty "甸" pattern, and the copper bell on the eaves responded with a pause.

Zhang Shiwu was squatting in the corner picking out paper money. The hilts of the Yin-Yang swords protruded from the bamboo basket and happened to touch the falling yellow paper.

The cinnabar that had not yet dried on the paper rubbed onto the hilt of the sword, winding like weeping blood.

"The money from Bashan Sword Field has only raised a boneless dog."

Old Wu, who runs the coffin shop, came out from the wall where the coffins were placed, holding a half-bottle of cold wine. The frayed cotton wool on his cuffs was stained with cinnabar, which looked like solidified blood scabs at first glance: "The day before yesterday, that man took out 300 sea shark pearls from the secret vault and put them all into the waist bag of the head nanny in Zheng Xiu's palace."

"After all, it cannot be put on the table. It can only be circulated and used in the name of 'Lu Family Ancestral Treasury', and it must be carefully kept out of the public eye."

Ye Celeng dipped his fingertips in the wine and drew talismans on the table. The rippling green light locked the sound in his heart: "However, since Lu Siche knows where the secret vault is, why not transfer it secretly?"

"Miss, do you think that the hostage house is the vegetable market?"

Old Wu opened the yellowed silk book. Dense red circles marked the courtyards in the mansion, like a poisonous spider. The oil lamp stretched his shadow very long. "Three of the maids sweeping outside his bedroom are spies sent by the palace."

"Last month, the second kid from the Lu family went to the bookstore in the south of the city to deliver a copy of the old classics. The next day, he was intercepted by the swordsman from the Zhengwu Division and searched for smuggled items. They said they were checking for banned books, but in fact they were trying to find out about us." He pointed to the spot marked with seven eye-catching red dots, and sneered with the paper ash floating in the air: "Zheng Xiu, this bitch, even put a urinal in her eyeliner."

“It’s more than just eyeliner.”

Old Wu's wife came out of the kitchen carrying a lacquer tray with two bowls of plain noodles with chopped green onions on it. "At the beginning of the year, the accountant of his family paid money to repair the ancestral tomb. As soon as the money came out of the treasury, it was extorted by Prime Minister Li's godson, who took a full 50% - saying it was to offset some 'trade tax'."

Ye Celeng glanced at the frayed stitches on the sleeves of Old Wu's wife. This woman washed clothes for wealthy families during the day and helped to plan coffin boards at night. Her knuckles were so rough that they could crush walnuts. "Three hundred mermaid pearls in exchange for a word of praise from Zheng Xiu, that seems like something that Lord Liling would do."

"How much is left in the secret library?" Zhang Shiwu suddenly looked up, and the Yin-Yang swords made a buzzing sound in the bamboo basket.

"About 40% of the gold, silver, and jade beads are still there, and the three boxes of ancient sword manuals are still sealed." Old Wu dipped his hands in the wine and wrote a number on the stone slab. The handwriting was wrinkled by the draft, just like their fragmented plan. "Of course, most of them have been transported to Chu territory long ago - this is the known part."

Zhang Shiwu threw another handful of tinfoil ingots into the brazier. "I heard that the business of those old families in Changling spread across all dynasties. When the Lu family was destroyed, Yuanwu's army had to send out carriages in an endless stream for five days before emptying the Lu family's mansion of all valuables. Is this true?"

Old Wu nodded and said slowly, "The furniture in the Lu family mansion is only one tenth of the Lu family's real wealth. Most of the rest went into the private pockets of Yuan Wu and Zheng Xiu. Fortunately, some of it was hidden in advance by Lin Junshi as a reserve for swords."

"The Lu family's ancestral storehouse is divided into three caves - on the surface, it is the 37 cellars of Changling Silver Shop, secretly, some are buried in the tomb of Xishan, and the last part is hidden under an abandoned beacon tower in Yunmengze. When the 16 linked mechanisms are opened, the coiled dragon pattern on the bronze door will absorb the moonlight and turn into green light."

"Last month, I went to the mass grave in the south of the city to open a coffin, and I happened to see Li Xiang's lackeys digging the fake grave number three. That idiot dug out the cast iron funeral objects that I buried twenty years ago, and they really could be regarded as Lu's gold cakes. It saved Zhenku from disaster."

"As for that kid Lu Siche, he was a secret agent of Bashan who had been developing in Chu territory a few years earlier. After the main branch of the Lu family was destroyed, this distant branch was recruited by Military Advisor Lin and entered Qin with Lord Liling. He gradually became our most important eyes and ears in Changling."

Old Wu's wife added, "Military Advisor Lin left behind the instructions: When Li Lingjun becomes more and more of a chess piece of Yuan Wu and Zheng Xiu, we can also use the clues revealed by the other side to reversely guess the minds and plans of the 'chess players' - only those who know the enemy's strengths and weaknesses can have room for advance and retreat."

"In the final analysis, it's just that they saw that the enemy was too powerful to be stopped, so they had to put up a cover outside." Old Wu glanced at her and sighed: "Thinking back then, Bashan Sword Field was so glorious, but now it has fallen to this state."

Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew in from the backyard, and the paper horse and bamboo frames made a creaking sound. The lights outside the window flickered suddenly, making the sign of "Lü Ji Coffin" flicker, as if bathed in thick fog.

A silver-white silk thread flew out of Zhang Shiwu's sleeve and wrapped around the soul-calling banner hanging from the eaves. The four words "Rebirth in Paradise" on the banner were facing the incense burner with a missing corner on the altar. As the banner was rolled up, an elegant but desolate figure was revealed.

It was the fortune teller who pretended to be blind in the South City during the day. He held a bamboo stick in his hand and muttered to himself: "I didn't expect that the 'stringless harp' would be so similar to the 'Lingxi Jade Talisman'. They both use..."

Ye Celeng Leng did not look at him, but listened attentively to the sound of tiles rustling in the distance. Four lifelike portraits fell from his sleeves: "Twelve... Shadow Guard Talismans refined by Xu Fu, with thunder and fire energy."

She drew a circle on the stone table with her fingertips: "From the rice shop in the south of the city to the account office in the west market, it will keep them busy for a long time."

"This... is the 'enemy' that Li Lingjun wants to kill tonight?"

Old Wu was carving a symbol on the bottom of the coffin. He glanced at it by chance and saw that the carving knife he was holding suddenly went off the track, leaving a deep scratch on the pear wood. "The kid from Widow Zhao's family...came here to ask for millet cakes the day before yesterday."

"The horse raised by Lord Liling was startled, and it was Widow Zhao who splashed water." Old Wu's wife was not surprised at all. She just blew the sawdust on the table to prevent it from getting on the clean dishes and chopsticks, and sprinkled coriander into the noodle soup: "The child put a handful of wild ginger flowers in the wooden basin the night before - he said it could calm his mother down and help her sleep."

Old Wu pried open the nails of the coffin and sneered, "It's been half a month since the incident of splashing water and startling the horse. It's hard for him to remember it clearly." As he spoke, he suddenly lifted the straw mat in the corner, revealing a cellar entrance. A cold wind blew in his face, and old paper ashes swirled up. "Or..."

"It's too late." Ye Celeng shook his head and used chopsticks to pick up the oil in the noodle soup: "I am now wearing the crown of 'King of Chu of Qin'! In the evening, I also received twelve boxes of old books of Chu sent by the Qin Palace - but the sweet dates given by Yuanwu always have barbs."

The paper lanterns under the eaves flickered, casting the shadows of the people on the gray wall where the coffin was placed, like a messy rehearsal before the shadow play began. Zhang Shiwu's Yin-Yang sword was unsheathed at some point, and the sword light swept across the paper figures piled in the corner, adding two blushes to their pale cheeks.

"It's time to get a new batch of paper figures." Old Wu said suddenly.

His wife pulled out a pair of rusty scissors from the sewing basket and cut the soul-calling banner hanging beside the coffin with a "click". The cloth stirred up the accumulated dust as it fell to the ground. "That's right. The old ones always want to be ancestors for the living - Lin Zhujiu was wrong after all. We must take back the 'Xishan Sword Plate' as soon as possible."

……

When the night watchman struck the fifth watch gong, nine dark shadows returned to Lord Liling's mansion.

The last servant who climbed over the wall had a sword wound on his left shoulder, and the thunder and fire runes had scorched the blue bricks. Lu Siche touched the slightly trembling Lingxi jade talisman, stood in the dark of the corridor and counted the heads, and found that three were missing - the group sent to kill the wine seller.

The lights in Liling Jun's bedroom were still on.

The ointment for dyeing the temples was placed in front of the rhino-horn mirror, and a few strands of gray hair floated in the copper basin. He was applying cinnabar to the newly acquired Chu King's seal, when suddenly the tip of the brush shook and the cinnabar splashed onto his snow-white undershirt.

"Waste!" When the inkstone hit the door frame, Xu Fu happened to cross the threshold. The head of the Ministry of Rites bent down to pick up the broken inkstone, and with the black mist wrapped around his fingertips, he restored it to its original state.

"Your Highness, do you know how many Qin people died tonight?" Xu Fu put the inkstone back on the table, cinnabar dripping down the edge of the table, and placed two medicinal pill bottles on the table: "How many memorials do you think will mention 'the Chu people are vicious and stubborn' in the morning court tomorrow?"

Li Lingjun's hand froze in mid-air. The bronze mirror reflected the golden talisman on the back of his neck, which was now slightly hot.

The jade comb that dyed her temples fell to the ground with a clang, and broke into thirteen crescent moons.

...(End of chapter)