A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 126 Revenge

It was late autumn, and fallen leaves were rustling in the courtyard behind the prison.

The old locust tree in the courtyard had lost most of its leaves, with only a few withered yellow ones hanging on the branches. When the wind blew, a few leaves would swirl and drift down. A thin layer of leaves covered the blue brick ground, making a rustling sound underfoot.

Su Bai sat cross-legged indoors, with an ordinary green-edged sword lying across his lap.

The sword was covered with a thin layer of white frost, which gleamed with a faint, cold light in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the window paper.

A chill permeated the room, even causing fine droplets of water to condense between his eyebrows and hair. His eyes were slightly closed, his breathing long and even, and with each rise and fall of his chest, his exhalation carried a hint of biting coldness, turning into a faint white mist before dissipating.

Since the late stage of the True Qi Realm, he has become increasingly reclusive.

The Zhenyue Sword Technique had long been perfected. That sword technique was as solid and heavy as a mountain, and when it was used, every step was steady and firm, like a mountain overlooking an abyss.

Now he has turned his attention to practicing the Frost Sword Technique and the Frost Force, two techniques that are not of high rank but have their own unique merits.

Within just a few days, both of them broke through to the True Qi Realm.

The frost on the sword grew thicker and thicker, gradually covering the entire blade, even coating his fingers resting on the hilt with a thin layer of white. Suddenly, Su Bai opened his eyes.

The chill in the room suddenly dissipated, and the layer of white frost seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, instantly turning into fine water droplets that slid down the sword and dripped onto his clothes, leaving a few dark spots.

He casually placed the sword on the shelf, stood up and stretched his shoulders and back, his joints making a slight cracking sound.

He did not intend to actually use these two techniques against his enemies.

However, in the path of martial arts, one can draw inferences from one thing to another; the more knowledge one gains, the more profound one's foundation becomes. Furthermore, he looked out the window at the darkening sky, his gaze slightly narrowed.

If you really reach a life-or-death situation, having an extra skill to rely on is an extra way to survive.

The last rays of the setting sun were receding from the courtyard wall outside the window, and the clouds on the horizon turned from gold to red, then from red to dark, as dusk settled in.

The process of clearing Li Yuehu's name by the prefectural governor's office proceeded without any warning.

That afternoon, a commotion of carriages and horses suddenly arose outside the county jail.

The sound grew louder as it approached, the sound of horses' hooves pounding on the bluestone slabs, the rumbling of cart tracks, and the shouts of people startling the street vendors who scattered in disarray.

Su Bai was organizing files upstairs when he heard the sound. He paused, put down his brush, got up, and looked out the window.

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

What a grand display!

At the end of the long street, a dark mass of people surged forward. Leading the way were eight burly guards, each with a sword sheath at their waist, their faces as cold and hard as iron, pushing and shoving aside the jailers blocking their path.

One of the jailers was too slow to dodge, and the first guard shoved him. The jailer stumbled back several steps, nearly falling, and cursed, "Get out of my way! You blind fool!"

Following them were two groups of beautifully dressed maids, each carrying an object: a censer emitting wisps of smoke, a whisk with tassels hanging from its handle, and neatly folded clothes topped with sachets. As they moved, the tinkling of their ornaments and the fragrance of their cosmetics wafted far and wide.

Then, the stewards, servants, and laborers each performed their duties, some carrying food boxes, some holding brocade cushions, and some holding copper basins and towels, and they surged toward the prison gate in a grand procession, their footsteps clattering and raising clouds of dust.

Two luxurious carriages were parked by the roadside, the horses running side by side, their bridles inlaid with gold, and the carriage walls carved with patterns, gleaming in the autumn sunset.

The two white horses pulling the cart were pure white, with neatly combed manes on their necks. They snorted and pawed at the ground impatiently.

It truly exudes the air of a prestigious family.

Upon reaching the prison gate, the dozens of people knelt down in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized, the rustling of their clothes creating a cacophony of sounds, as if they had rehearsed the scene a thousand times.

"Welcome back, young master, from prison!"

The shouts shook the dust that had accumulated on the eaves, causing it to fall in a flurry, the fine dust drifting in the afterglow of the setting sun.

Li Yuehu was supported by two prison guards as he staggered out of the dimly lit passageway.

The three months in prison took a toll on him.

His once fair complexion now had a sickly bluish-gray tinge, his eye sockets were sunken, his cheekbones were prominent, and his lips were dry, cracked, and peeling, with scabs and bloody cuts on them.

The prison uniform he wore hung loosely, his shoulder blades straining against the fabric, as if a gust of wind would topple him over. His hair was a tangled mess, sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

But those eyes, those eyes were burning with fire.

He broke free from the jailer's support, his feet wobbling slightly. Once he regained his footing, he kicked the guard kneeling at the front.

The nurse swayed after being kicked, shifting her knees on the hard ground, but remained kneeling upright, not daring to lift her head.

"You bastards!" Li Yuehu kicked once, not satisfied, then kicked twice more, the toes of his shoes striking the guard's shoulder and arm, leaving him breathless. He cursed hoarsely, his voice like sandpaper, "I'm suffering in there, while you're eating and drinking your fill outside? Huh?"

As he continued cursing, he suddenly raised his head and stared straight at the half-open window on the prison tower.

Dozens of feet away, through the twilight and dust, he couldn't see the expression on the person's face behind the window. But he knew the person was there.

"Su Bai—" He gritted his teeth and squeezed out the two words, his voice extremely low but chillingly venomous, as if he wanted to chew the name to pieces along with the flesh and blood.

Manager Zhao leaned forward, his face full of smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling together.

He held in his hands a dark blue outer robe, made of soft, thick material, with black brocade trim along the edges.

As he draped the cloak over Li Yuehu, he said with a forced smile, "Young Master, it's windy outside. Why don't you get in the carriage and rest? We've prepared a brazier at home; you can use it to ward off bad luck when you get back. Madam is looking forward to seeing you."

Li Yuehu shoved him aside, causing Manager Zhao to stumble, but the smile on his face remained unchanged.

Just before getting into the car, Li Yuehu glanced back towards the prison gate.

The jailers were standing in twos and threes at a distance, some huddled in the doorway, some pressed against the wall, and some hid most of their bodies behind pillars, only showing half of their faces.

Li Yuehu's gaze slowly swept across their faces, as if he wanted to carve each face into his bones and into his dreams.

Finally, he tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a slight smile.

The smile was chilling, like a cold draft seeping up from the ground, making the older jailers shudder and involuntarily shrink back.

"Tenfold repayment." He said these four words softly, his voice as light as a whisper, yet he enunciated each word clearly.

Then he turned and got into the carriage, the curtain of which fell down, obscuring his face.

Manager Zhao bowed as he saw Li Yuehu to his car, the smile on his face fading away as Li Yuehu turned away. He lowered his eyes, staring at the dust on the ground, a sinister glint flashing in them, like a poisoned needle.

He then forced a smile and turned to instruct the guards, "Send the young master back to the inner city, and make sure he walks carefully."

The carriage rumbled away, its wheels kicking up dust that trailed a long, yellow dragon in the twilight.

The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the distance, and the beautiful maids and servants also left with the carriages, leaving behind only a mess of footprints and the fading fragrance of cosmetics.

Su Bai stood by the window, watching the group disappear at the end of the long street.

As dusk deepened, a few lights appeared in the streets and alleys. His hand, gripping the window frame, had knuckles that were slightly white.

After a long while, he sighed softly.

The sigh was so soft, as if it had been swept away by the autumn wind, leaving no trace.

Footsteps sounded behind him; it was a familiar errand boy delivering some documents. The footsteps paused at the top of the stairs before continuing to approach. Su Bai didn't turn around, but simply said in a low voice, "The days ahead probably won't be peaceful."

The constable froze, the documents in his hand hanging in mid-air.

Su Bai turned around, his expression calm, but a faint worry lingered in his eyes, like the last ray of light in the twilight. He looked at the constable and said softly, "Tell the brothers to avoid secluded and deserted places these days. Go home as soon as you finish your shift and don't linger outside."

After seeing the taxi driver off, Su Bai sat back down at his desk, his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop.

"Tap, tap, tap."

One tap, another tap, and another. The twilight outside the window gradually deepened into night. The room was still dark, and his face was hidden in the shadows. Only the outline of his fingers tapping on the table could be seen in the faint light coming in from the window.

Li Yuehu's release is suspicious.

There are only two possibilities.

Firstly, the Ning family lost this power struggle, while the Li family managed to get the person out through sheer force.

Secondly, the Ning family won, and both sides reached some kind of compromise behind the scenes. The Li family took the person away, which can be regarded as giving each other a way out.

If it's the latter, the Li family's revenge will be nothing more than a show, a formality, and won't cause any major trouble.

But if it's the former—

Su Bai's fingers, which were tapping the table, paused, hovering in mid-air, and did not fall for a long time.

That would be a huge problem. Things are unlikely to get over so easily.

He abruptly stood up, the chair leg scraping the ground with a soft thud. He grabbed his outer robe and hurried outside, his steps quick, the hem of his robe stirring a gust of wind.

Ning Yuechan has not been seen for several days.

After walking through two streets and alleys, the night breeze grew cool. The alleys were pitch black, with only the dim yellow light shining from the windows of distant houses. Su Bai knocked on the door of Ning Yuechan's usual residence.

"Bang bang bang".

He knocked three times, but no one answered.

He knocked three more times, listened intently, and found the courtyard deathly silent.

He frowned, took two steps back, and looked at the courtyard wall. The wall wasn't high. He took a few steps back, ran, climbed onto the top of the wall, and flipped down into the courtyard.

The courtyard was deserted. Several potted plants lay withered on the steps, their leaves scorched and curled, crumbling at the slightest touch.

The door was locked, and not a single ray of light could see through the crack. He walked up the steps, reached out and wiped his fingertip on the windowsill, finding it covered in a thin layer of dust.

It has been uninhabited for many days.

Su Bai stood in the courtyard, staring at the tightly locked door. Moonlight shone down, casting a long shadow on the blue brick ground, where he remained motionless.

The ominous premonition in my heart grew stronger, like a heavy stone pressing down on me.

Three days later, the retaliation came.

They came openly and honestly.

For the first time ever, the county town administration issued an audit notice, saying that it was an order from above that all prisons in the area must conduct a thorough audit of their accounts to prevent problems from escalating.

It was supposed to be a random inspection, but the one that was "randomly" selected happened to be the South City Prison.

The inspection team arrived suddenly.

I heard they were transferred directly from the prefectural government, following a strict "four no's and two direct's" policy: no notification, no advance notice, and no reports.

No need for accompaniment, they went straight to the grassroots and directly to the scene.

Su Bai was on duty that day when he opened the door and saw seven or eight unfamiliar faces sitting in the council hall.

The council chamber was brightly lit, with piles of account books stacked high on the tables, forming three stacks. Some of the unfamiliar faces were flipping through the accounts, some were taking notes, and some were using abacuses, the beads clinking together. The leader was a fair-skinned middle-aged man wearing an indigo robe with the cuffs rolled up, who was looking down at an account book.

Hearing the door open, he looked up, nodded to Su Bai as a greeting, and then buried his head back in his work, continuing to rummage through the accounts.

Su Bai stood at the door, his gaze sweeping over the account books, over the unfamiliar faces, and finally landing on the team leader.

The accounts were thoroughly investigated.

From old accounts from three years ago to last month's miscellaneous expenses, every page and every item was meticulously investigated.

Some of the account books were yellowed, with curled edges and faded ink, but they were still taken out and checked page by page.

Some of them are historical issues—muddled accounts handled by a former prison warden, with illegible handwriting, chaotic entries, and blurred signatures and fingerprints of those who handled them.

Some were customary rules—for example, the money for a few pounds of meat given to the jailers during festivals was not given in the form of formal receipts, but only slips of paper with the signature of the person in charge, which were pinned to the account book with a safety pin.

All of these were dug up.

In the end, they were all brought under Su Bai's name.

The results were posted that afternoon: a large yellow sheet of paper covered with writing, which was posted on the bulletin board.

A gust of wind blew, and the corner of the paper was lifted up and then fell back down, making a pattering sound.

Forty-seven people were punished.

Those who had their merits confiscated, those who were flogged on the spot, those who were demoted or had their salaries reduced, those who were stripped of their status—the list was densely packed and plastered all over the bulletin board. The prison guards who were watching were three layers deep, some standing on tiptoe to see, some craning their necks. When they saw their own names, their faces turned pale.

Su Bai bears primary responsibility.

Fortunately, the transfer period was short, so the punishment was lenient: a deduction of half a year's salary and the deduction of existing merits were imposed, and the case was retried to observe future performance.

Swift and decisive.

That evening, Su Bai sat in the duty room and stared at the processing result for a long time.

An oil lamp sat on the table, its dim light casting flickering shadows on his face.

The decision was laid out on the table, the handwriting neat and legible, with a bright red official seal stamped in the lower right corner, so striking it was almost blinding.

He suddenly laughed.

The smile was faint, just a slight upturn of the corners of the mouth, but there was no hint of a smile in the eyes.

"It's all legal and compliant," he said in a low voice, his tone unusually clear in the empty duty room. "The Li family certainly has some clever methods!"

The night outside the window was deep and the lights were dim. In the distance came the sound of the night watchman's clapper, "Dong-dong-dong," it was the third watch of the night.

He picked up the now-cold tea and took a sip. The bitterness of the tea spread across his tongue, and the coolness went down into his stomach.

Such is the power of aristocratic families. Without resorting to swords or guns, without open warfare, they can simply use the pretext of righteousness to strike with overwhelming force, leaving their opponents powerless.

He put down his teacup and looked in the direction of the Ning residence.

The night outside the window was dark and nothing could be seen except for a few lights in the distance, flickering on and off.

After this round, shouldn't the Ning family step in to protect them?

The Li family should finally get their revenge.

After all, the overt retaliation has already been carried out, and any further excessive actions would be unreasonable.

Su Bai thought the matter was over.

But on the seventh day, things changed.

Early that morning, as soon as Su Bai entered the prison, he sensed something was amiss. The prison guards were gathered in twos and threes, whispering amongst themselves. When they saw him enter, they fell silent, their eyes darting around.

The outer town's magistrate received a letter of complaint from the South City Prison. The letter listed numerous instances of corruption, was written earnestly and detailed, and was signed "Several righteous individuals from the South City Prison."

Then the inspection team arrived.