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

Chapter 164 The Rise of the Zhenfu Division

Zhao Zhijing's expression changed, as if he had been punched in the face.

Tang Dingzhen continued, pressing closer: "You, Zhao Zhijing, were among the top performers in Qingyuan County, Liang Yan was among the top scholars, and Jin Tangjing was among the top ten. Now, three of those in the top ten are dead, and you still think it was just carelessness?"

These words were like a knife, piercing straight into Zhao Zhijing's heart.

His face alternated between pale and flushed, as if a vat of dye had been overturned. He tried to say something, but found his throat dry and his tongue stuck shut, unable to utter a sound.

He opened his mouth, but only made a dry sound, like sandpaper rubbing together.

Tang Dingzhen did not continue speaking.

He glanced at him, a glance that held a mixture of pity, disdain, and something else that was hard to define.

Then he turned around and went back inside.

That one glance was like looking at a dead person.

Zhao Zhijing stood still, his hands gripping the reins tightly, veins bulging, the blood vessels on the back of his hands standing out as if they were about to burst.

He wanted to rush forward, to draw his sword, to teach Tang Dingzhen a lesson. His right hand was already gripping the hilt of the sword, the texture of the hilt digging painfully into his palm.

But he held back.

Because he knew he couldn't.

Liang Yan's body was inside, cold and stiff.

The young man named Su Bai stood motionless in the shadows, like a god of death who might awaken at any moment.

He didn't know how strong that person was, but he didn't dare to gamble.

A moment later, he took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.

He slowly loosened the hilt of the knife and then the reins, the white marks left on his knuckles lingering for a long time.

"Let's go," he said in a low voice, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping.

The Iron Palm Gang members behind him were stunned, exchanging bewildered glances. Some, not having heard clearly, leaned in and asked, "Master Zhao, what did you say?"

Zhao Zhijing turned and glanced at them, his eyes as sinister as a hawk's, as if he wanted to devour them: "I said let's go, didn't you hear me?"

Those men dared not ask any more questions, and hurriedly turned their horses around, their movements chaotic, some nearly falling off. The sound of hooves echoed haphazardly behind him.

The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the distance, disappearing into the night.

Wei Mingyuan watched the Iron Palm Gang members leave, his face changing color repeatedly, alternating between pale and flushed. He gritted his teeth, waved his hand hastily, and shouted, "Wei family members, come with me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and left, his steps quick, his robes fluttering, as if he were fleeing something terrifying, not daring to look back.

Wu Shixun tightened the reins and turned his horse around. Without even saying a word, he spurred his horse and rode away, the sound of hooves rapid, quickly disappearing around the street corner.

Wan Youcai followed behind Wei Mingyuan, running faster than anyone else, leaving the other guys behind, panting as they chased after him.

Xie Yulang was pulled away by several guards, stumbling and nearly falling several times. His folding fan was still on the ground, and no one picked it up.

Zhou Fulai, clutching the account book, jogged all the way, his large body drenched in sweat and panting heavily, not daring to look back.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the nearly one hundred people on the street corner dispersed completely, as if they had never been there.

All that remained were scattered footprints, crushed willow branches, and a few abandoned torches burning on the ground, their flames gradually fading and eventually going out.

Epilogue of Chapter Four: Tang Dingzhen's Reflections and Foreshadowing. Silence returned to the gates of the Blood Blade Gang's headquarters.

A night breeze blew by, bringing a touch of coolness, and stirred the red silk ribbon of the thick-backed broadsword hanging on the doorpost, causing it to flutter.

The constables of the Garrison Command stood there, watching the direction the people had gone, their faces bearing an indescribable expression. It was excitement, it was pride, it was a feeling they had never experienced before, like a fire burning in their hearts.

The constable surnamed Chen stood on the steps, his back straight, his chest heaving.

His gaze swept over the Blood Blade Gang members kneeling on the ground. Those who used to boss him around were now bowing their heads, not daring to even breathe loudly.

His lips couldn't help but curl upwards, as if he wanted to laugh, but he held back, though the muscles in his cheeks twitched slightly.

how many years?

He worked in the Zhenfu Division for ten years. In those ten years, how much humiliation did he endure?

Which of those gang members isn't arrogant and haughty?

When you see them, they all ignore you and don't even give you a second glance.

Not to mention Zhao Zhijing of the Iron Palm Clan, even a minor leader of the Blood Blade Clan dared to boss him around.

But tonight—

Zhao Zhijing of the Iron Palm Gang, the man who roamed freely in Qingyuan County and ranked among the top ten masters in the county, was made to slink away by a few words from Deputy Chief Constable Tang.

The Wei family, Wu family, Wan family, Xie family, and the Chamber of Commerce alliance members ran faster than rabbits, wishing they had two more legs.

All of this is because of one person.

He glanced back at the shadows inside the door, but the figure was gone.

Lord Su has left.

That young man, that seemingly frail young man in his early twenties, is gone. But what he left behind was something he had never experienced before.

That thing is called confidence.

A middle-aged man surnamed Sun walked over and stood beside Tang Dingzhen. He gazed in the direction where the people had disappeared, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly laughed, his laughter echoing in the night sky.

"Old Tang," he said, patting Tang Dingzhen on the shoulder, "I suddenly feel like our Zhenfu Division has come alive."

Tang Dingzhen didn't speak, he just nodded. His gaze remained fixed on the distance, the direction where Zhao Zhijing disappeared, and the direction where countless others vanished.

The woman surnamed Zhou also came over, a rare smile on her face, her eyebrows relaxed, as if she had unloaded some heavy burden: "Did you see Zhao Zhijing's face just now? It turned green and white, more exciting than an opera, like a face-changing act."

The middle-aged man surnamed Sun laughed heartily: "Look at him, he was itching to rush up and attack, his hand was even on the knife handle, but he didn't dare. Old Tang's words left him speechless, it was so satisfying! Didn't you see his mouth open, unable to utter a single word, like a fish out of water?"

The woman surnamed Zhou nodded, her eyes sparkling: "Yes, I've been in Qingyuan County for five years, and this is the first time I've seen Zhao Zhijing get the short end of the stick. That guy is usually so arrogant, always looking down on everyone and ignoring them. Today he's really screwed up, completely screwed up."

As they talked, smiles appeared on their faces, and their eyes radiated joy.

Tang Dingzhen remained silent, gazing into the distance, lost in thought.

The moonlight shone on his face, illuminating a thoughtful expression.

The middle-aged man surnamed Sun noticed his unusual behavior, his smile faded, and he asked, "Old Tang, what's wrong?"

Tang Dingzhen shook his head and remained silent.

He was just thinking of someone.

A person who has been dead for many years.

Deputy Commissioner Feng.

That was three years ago.

At that time, he was a young constable, having just joined the Zhenfu Division. He wore brand-new official uniforms and walked with a swagger. Deputy Constable Feng had just taken office, full of vigor and ambition, and his methods were ruthless, like a drawn sword, cutting down anyone in his path.

The Zhenfu Division was like that back then.

The constables walked with a swagger, their chests held high, daring to straighten their backs and look directly at anyone they met.

Back then, which gang wouldn't be polite and bow and scrape when they met the people from the Zhenfu Division?

But what happened next?

Later, Deputy Inspector Feng reached a consensus with those forces.

No, it should be called a compromise.

For the sake of the bigger picture, for stability, and to avoid trouble, he chose to back down. Taking a step back opens up a whole new world.

After that, the Zhenfu Division returned to its original state.

Some are cowardly, others are just drifting through life. When they see gang members, they still lower their heads and walk around them, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Where is Deputy Inspector Feng?

He remained the deputy constable, still in the same position, sitting firmly in his post. But that knife had become dull and rusty, and could no longer cut anyone.

Tang Dingzhen snapped out of her thoughts and looked towards the doorway.

The two bodies had been carried away, leaving only a pool of blood on the ground, which gleamed a dark red in the moonlight, like a piece of dark red silk.

The bloodstains were not yet completely dry, and they gleamed faintly in the moonlight.

He suddenly remembered a question.

Where is Lord Su?

Will that young man, that young man in his early twenties who killed Liang Yan with a single blow, be the same as Deputy Inspector Feng?

Will he choose to compromise for the sake of the bigger picture, for stability, and for the so-called consensus?

Will he be assimilated by this quagmire of Qingyuan County?

Will he one day become another Deputy Inspector Feng?

Will he?

Tang Dingzhen didn't know.

He simply stood there, gazing at the pool of blood under the moonlight, remaining silent for a long time.

A night breeze blew by, lifting the hem of his clothes and bringing a touch of coolness.

Behind them, the middle-aged man surnamed Sun and the woman surnamed Zhou were still talking, their laughter echoing through the night.

In the distance, the kneeling Blood Blade Gang members were being led into the courtyard one by one by the constables, their footsteps chaotic and occasionally punctuated by low groans.

A night breeze blew by, bringing a touch of coolness and causing the red silk on the doorposts to flutter.

Tang Dingzhen raised her head and looked up at the night sky.

Dark clouds gathered again, obscuring the moon like a giant hand blocking out the light.

The world was shrouded in darkness, except for the torches in front of the door, which were still crackling and burning, their flames flickering and casting shadows on his face.

That thought lingered in his mind for a long time, refusing to dissipate.

Lord Su, would he do the same?

Inside the main hall of the Blood Blade Gang's headquarters, candlelight blazed brightly.

Su Bai sat at the head of the table, with a pot of hot tea and several plates of snacks on the octagonal table in front of him.

The tea was freshly brewed and still steaming. The snacks were taken from the Blood Knife Gang's kitchen by the Zhenfu Division's officers; they were exquisitely made and clearly Liang Yan's usual food.

He didn't move.

He simply sat quietly, his gaze passing through the open gate to the bustling scene in the courtyard.

The moonlight, like water, poured into the courtyard paved with bluestone.

The constables of the Zhenfu Division, carrying lanterns and torches, moved in and out of every corner of the Blood Blade Gang's headquarters like a swarm of tireless ants.

Footsteps were hurried, shouts rose and fell, interspersed with the muffled sound of boxes being pried open and the crisp metallic sound of weapons clashing.

"This way! Carry this box out!"

"There's a storeroom in the backyard, come quick!"

"Boss, we've found some good wine over here!"

The shouts echoed in the night sky, carrying an irrepressible excitement.

The faces of those constables all wore an unprecedented radiance.

They walked briskly, stood tall, and even spoke louder than usual—not arrogantly, but with a triumphant air.

Some people carried heavy wooden boxes, veins bulging on their foreheads, yet they grinned broadly; others held bundles of swords, their sheaths clanging against each other; still others lifted heavy iron boxes, their corners hitting the bluestone slabs with dull thuds.

A young constable ran past the main hall, carrying a stack of account books, and almost tripped over the threshold. He staggered a couple of steps, steadied himself, and glanced back into the main hall, where he met Su Bai's gaze.

The young constable was taken aback for a moment, then straightened his back, nodded vigorously in Su Bai's direction, and then left quickly with the account book in his arms, his steps more steady than before.

Su Bai shifted her gaze from him and returned it to the courtyard.

Overnight, the Golden Knife Alliance and the Blood Knife Gang, two of the eight major forces in Qingyuan County, were gone.

The thought crossed his mind, and he picked up his teacup, taking a sip. The tea was slightly cool, but just to his liking.

Footsteps came from outside the door, steady and powerful.

Su Bai looked up and saw Wang Muzhi striding into the main hall.

Two bailiffs followed behind him, carrying a wooden box about half a person's height. The box looked very heavy, and the two bailiffs were struggling to lift it, with sweat beading on their foreheads.

Wang Muzhi walked up to Su Bai, bowed, and said with barely suppressed joy, "My lord, the preliminary inventory is complete."

Su Bai put down his teacup: "Speak."

Wang Muzhi straightened up, took out a thin booklet from his sleeve, glanced at it, then closed it and began to report in detail.

"Regarding silver, over 30,000 taels of silver, over 800 taels of gold, and countless copper coins were found at the Blood Blade Gang's headquarters. In addition, there were some jewelry and jade artifacts, which could be exchanged for approximately 5,000 taels of silver."

He paused, then continued, "As for weapons, there are a total of 237 swords, spears, and clubs, of which 21 are high-quality weapons forged from fine iron, and the rest are ordinary ironware. There are also 12 bows and crossbows, and three bundles of arrows."

"Regarding cultivation techniques—" Wang Muzhi paused slightly, looked up at Su Bai, and said, "We found more than thirty cultivation techniques of various kinds, all of which have been packed into boxes for your inspection, sir."

More than thirty books.

Su Bai tapped his fingers lightly on the table, lost in thought.

The Golden Knife Alliance's techniques also have this number. It seems that the foundation of these gangs is only so-so.

"Present the exercise manual," he said.

Wang Muzhi responded, turned around and took the wooden box from the two constables, then personally presented it to Su Bai and placed it on the table.

He lifted the lid of the box, revealing neatly stacked books inside.

The books were a mix of new and old; some had yellowed and curled edges, clearly old copies passed down for many years; others still smelled of fresh ink, like copies made in recent years.

The spines of the books are covered with all sorts of names:

Bloodthirsty Blade Technique, Iron Bone Skill, Swimming Body Palm, Wind-Chasing Leg —

Su Bai reached out and picked up the top book, flipping through it casually.

Inferior techniques.

He put it down and picked up another book.

That's also inferior.

Another one.

It's still inferior.

He moved slowly and deliberately, flipping through the books one by one, his eyes sweeping over the yellowed pages, taking in all the contents.

After he finished reading each book, he would casually put it aside, and Wang Muzhi would immediately step forward and rearrange the books.