The more you believe me, the more real it becomes.

Chapter 68 Anqing King

Inside the study of Prince Anqing in the Prince Anqing's residence.

The prince, whose fief was Qingzhou, was staring intently at the two things in front of him.

One is a bowl of clear water, the other is a broadsword.

The former, though clear and sparkling, doesn't seem particularly special.

Although the latter had been carefully cleaned, it still had a strong fishy smell.

After a long while, the dazed Prince Anqing finally picked up the bowl of water and put it in his mouth.

It is clear and sweet, and it does indeed have an indescribable soothing quality.

However, because it wasn't obvious enough, King Anqing wasn't sure whether it was just his imagination or if the water was truly exceptional.

Seeing this, one of his lieutenants couldn't help but say:
"Your Highness, why don't I lead my men and retrieve the demon core directly?"

Anqing Wang put down the water bowl and said:

"And then let the entire Qing County, and even more people, grind their teeth at me?"

"Would you allow me to suffer a loss of virtue in front of a true master again?"

The lieutenant was startled and hastily bowed his head and clasped his hands in greeting.
"The general will not dare."

Prince Anqing did not pursue the matter further, but instead changed the subject:
"You went to fetch the water, so did you drink it?"

The lieutenant, who had followed the prince for many years, still couldn't fathom his intentions. After a moment's hesitation, he answered truthfully:
"Yes, Your Highness, I have tasted it."

"That's definitely more than what I drank, so what do you think?"

The first sentence frightened the lieutenant so much that he knelt on the ground, while the second sentence pulled him halfway out of the water.

The lieutenant, kneeling on the ground and sweating profusely, said:
"I didn't feel much change, but it was definitely different from any water I had ever drunk before."

"Hmm." Prince Anqing casually tossed the ghost-headed dagger on the table in front of his lieutenant. "Take another look at this dagger!"

The clanging of the blades was like the constant thumping of the lieutenant general's heart.

The lieutenant dared not rise, but knelt down, picked up the ghost-headed sword, and examined it intently.

After a moment, he returned the knife with both hands:

"Your Highness, this humble general is blind and cannot see any difference."

Anqing Wang's gaze did not waver in the slightest, remaining fixed on the bowl of water:

How many people has this sword killed?

"About eleven or twelve?"

The lieutenant was unsure, because even the executioner himself couldn't explain it clearly.

"No more?"

The lieutenant hastily dropped his sword and touched the ground with his forehead, saying:

"Your Highness, please forgive us! The weapon that could have been used to behead more people has already been taken by the Han family!"

Anqing King's gaze suddenly shifted to the lieutenant. The icy gaze swept over him, sending chills down the lieutenant's spine. In fear, the lieutenant lowered his head even further, almost burying it in the dust.

But a moment later, what he received was a sentence:
"You've worked hard. Go and rest now. You and the men you brought will each receive twenty taels of silver as a reward, and you will receive an extra one hundred taels."

The lieutenant was both surprised and delighted, and as if he had been pulled out of the water, he kowtowed and thanked the emperor, saying:
"Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness!"

Just as the lieutenant general who had thanked the emperor was about to reach the door, Prince Anqing suddenly asked:

"That guy in Qing County, how many people did he kill? Have you asked?"

The general was both startled and relieved; he had indeed asked about this.

He quickly turned around and said:

"Your Highness, that knife has been passed down for three generations. In addition, in the early years, death row inmates from the surrounding areas of Qing County would also be sent to Qing County for execution. Over the years, the number has accumulated to at least three hundred!"

"To be more specific, we would need to check the archives, which is beyond my ability."

Prince Anqing leaned back in his recliner and asked:

"Three hundred knives, stained with so much blood, isn't that extremely rare?"

"Your Highness, this is indeed extremely rare!"

For a single knife to kill so many people, not only must the blade itself be of excellent quality and meticulously maintained, but most importantly, the executioner must be experienced, cunning, and skilled, able to strike through the flesh at the weakest point connecting the spine. Otherwise, even a knife forged from fine steel by a renowned craftsman would break long ago.

Moreover, the world is at peace now, and even in the southwest, it is unlikely that you can find such a vicious soldier who has killed so many people.

Weapons are consumables on the battlefield. There are very few weapons that can still be used after killing hundreds of people, and there are very few warriors who can fight hundreds of people.

The sum of the two is naturally very small.

After much thought, it seems that the executioner might indeed have a large number of decapitation weapons at his disposal.

"It was already an extremely rare and precious item, and then a master refined it into something real? Never mind, you can go."

The adjutant was about to leave when he remembered an incident that had occurred during his trip, and hesitated, unsure whether he should mention it.

King Anqing said, feeling somewhat weary:

"Speak your mind. When working for me, don't be afraid to do more, be afraid to do less."

The lieutenant bowed his head and said:
"Your Highness, when I was about to leave Qing County, I met a monk."

This unexpected answer piqued Anqing Wang's interest:
"Monk?"

"Yes, Your Highness, a monk."

"Why did you specifically point this out?"

The lieutenant recalled and said:

"The monk was nothing special, except that he told me we would meet again!"

He had met a monk when he left Qing County and was on his way back to the Prince's Palace. The monk looked unremarkable, but the words he spoke to him just wouldn't leave his mind.

This answer did not satisfy King Anqing, and his interest, which had just been rising, instantly diminished.

"If there's nothing else, you can go downstairs."

"I'll take my leave."

After the lieutenant general left, King Anqing summoned a personal guard and said:
"Take this knife to the Taoist priest and ask him if he has any explanation."

The personal guards then followed.

Only Anqing Wang was left sitting alone in the study, seemingly lost in thought.

After a long while, King Anqing turned around and looked at the map of the world behind him.

His eyes were deep and his expression was cold.

Before his younger brother, who was neither loved nor cared for, ascended the throne, he was still the Prince of Yi.

But after the other party came up, he gradually became the King of Anqing.

From two characters to three characters, quite a lot has changed.
In the past, he acknowledged the hero and the emperor, but he had no other thoughts about it.

Because he knew he was far inferior to the other person.

Even during the great upheaval in the southwest, this remained the case.

But now.

Looking at the map of the world, King Anqing clenched his fists slightly behind his back.
-
In the small courtyard in the middle of the lake, the Taoist priest and his young apprentice looked at each other, bewildered, at the water basin where the dark figure had vanished.

Since last night, the two of them have been sitting in front of the water basin, staring at each other.

"Master, Master," the young Taoist's hoarse voice broke the deathly silence, "What, what exactly is going on?"

The Taoist priest trembled in shock, his eyes now swollen with dark circles, and hurriedly shook his head, his voice filled with panic:

"How would I know! How could I possibly know such a thing!"

What kind of true cultivator is he? He's just a charlatan who was lucky enough to be chosen by the True Lord and can use the incantations taught by the True Lord to control magical treasures!

Thinking of this, the Taoist priest became even more enraged, and suddenly jabbed his finger at the young Taoist boy, his resentment soaring to the heavens:

"It's all your fault! You insisted on making me pile everything up in the north of the city! What did I tell you?"

His voice suddenly rose, almost splitting into two:
"The True Lord explained it clearly—bloom everywhere! It was you! You insisted that the north of the city was better, that the north of the city was full of powerful families, so that the Prince would rely on us more!"

The Taoist priest pointed at the empty water basin, his fingertips trembling:
"Now it's all gone! It's all gone!"

When a real person makes a move, their meticulous plans become a joke.

(End of this chapter)