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

Chapter 171 Departure

Su Bai said calmly, "This is a legitimate reason, and it is reasonable. The county will not reject it."

Tang Dingzhen nodded, folded the document, and handed it back with both hands.

Su Bai took it, put it in the drawer, and then looked up at him: "While I'm not around, keep a close eye on those families. The Wei family, the Wu family, the Xie family, the Wan family, and the Chamber of Commerce Alliance—make sure they behave themselves and don't cause any trouble."

Tang Dingzhen solemnly clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Rest assured, my lord, I will keep a close eye on things."

Su Bai nodded, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the night was deepening.

The servants in the courtyard had already dispersed, leaving only a few lanterns swaying in the wind, casting flickering shadows on the ground.

He gazed at the dim yellow light, remained silent for a moment, and then said softly, "Go."

Tang Dingzhen gave him a deep look, clasped his hands in a salute, and turned to leave.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Su Bai rode out of the city.

Without alerting anyone, he simply told Tang Dingzhen what to do and then went alone along North Gate Street in the northwest direction.

The morning breeze caressed my face, carrying a slight chill.

The shops on both sides of the street were still closed, with only a few early-morning breakfast stalls open, steaming with heat.

Several early risers hunched their shoulders and hurried past, and no one noticed him.

The horses' hooves clattered on the bluestone slabs, making a crisp sound that was particularly clear in the quiet morning.

As they left the city, the soldiers guarding it were yawning. They saw someone riding by and were about to question him when they saw his face. They immediately stood up straight and saluted.

Su Bai waved his hand and rode off.

The city gate was dark, and the sound of horses' hooves echoed inside, producing a muffled thunderous sound. Passing through the gate, a wide-open view suddenly appeared: a straight official road stretched into the distance, flanked by harvested farmland, the golden stubble still clinging to the ground. In the distance, the sky was turning a pale white, with a few wisps of clouds tinged with a faint orange-red. Further still, mountains were faintly visible, their bluish-gray outlines undulating on the horizon.

Su Bai took a deep breath and squeezed the horse's belly.

The horses quickened their pace, pounding on the loess road and raising a light cloud of dust.

The morning breeze brushed past my ears, carrying the fresh scent of grass and trees from the fields, the sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking from distant villages, and all the vitality of a new day beginning.

He headed north, facing the gradually brightening sky.

Qishan Mountain Range.

Su Bai reined in his horse and looked up.

Before me stretched a continuous range of mountains, one after another, all the way to the horizon.

The mountains are steep and the forests are dense. In late autumn, the leaves are dyed in a variety of colors, including golden yellow, fiery red and dark brown, layer upon layer, like a tapestry covering the sky.

The mountain wind blows, and the forest undulates, making a rustling sound like the tide.

He has been gone for two days.

On the first day, we traveled north along the official road and spent the night in a small town called Liujiaji in the evening.

The next morning, we left the official road and turned onto a mountain path, which became increasingly remote and dangerous.

By noon on the third day, they had finally entered the heart of the Qishan Mountains.

He took the map out of his pocket and spread it out on his lap.

The map was yellowed and brittle, with torn edges, but the mountains and rivers on it were still clearly visible. He slowly moved his finger along the route he had taken—here, here, then turned northwest, crossed two mountains, and there was Luoyingjian.

He put away the map, spurred his horse, and continued on his way.

The mountain path grew narrower and steeper. Horse hooves pounded on the loose stones, and every now and then, pebbles would tumble down the cliff, the echoes fading away almost immediately.

The trees on both sides grew denser, their branches intertwining and blocking out the sun, with only dappled sunlight filtering through the gaps.

After walking for another two hours, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

It was a valley surrounded by mountains, with a flat area in the middle. Wild grass, as tall as a person, grew on the flat area and swayed in the wind.

At the end of the valley is a steep cliff with a crack in the middle, as if it had been cleaved by a giant axe.

Deep within the crack, a dark, gaping hole can be vaguely seen.

Eagle Falling Gorge.

Su Bai dismounted and led his horse into the valley.

Wild grass brushed against the horse's legs, making a rustling sound.

As he walked, he carefully observed his surroundings. There were no human traces, no animal tracks, only the sound of the wind and the grass.

It seems that no one has been to this valley for many years.

He walked to the cliff face and looked up.

The cliff face is tens of meters high, and its surface is covered with moss and vines.

The crack descended straight down from the top of the cliff, with a width of about ten feet at the bottom, narrowing as it went higher.

Deep within the crevice, the dark opening stood silently open, like a silent eye.

The day after Su Bai left Qingyuan County, news broke like a thunderclap, sending the entire county into chaos.

Deputy Chief of the Garrison Command, Feng, is dead.

He died while patrolling the trade route.

The news reached the county town at noon on the third day.

It was a cloudy day. Lead-gray clouds hung low over the rooftops of the county town. There was no wind, and the air felt stifling.

The streets were deserted, even the dogs were too lazy to bark, everything was eerily quiet, like the stillness before a storm.

Tang Dingzhen was handling official business in the signing room.

A stack of official documents lay on his desk. He read and approved them one by one, occasionally picking up his teacup to sip the now-cold tea. The light streaming in from the window was dim. He lit a candlestick, and the flickering flame cast his shadow on the wall, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

Suddenly, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside the courtyard.

The sound of hooves was urgent, so urgent that it didn't seem like normal travel, but rather like—fleeing for one's life.

Tang Dingzhen raised her head, her brows slightly furrowed.

Immediately afterwards, a jumble of footsteps sounded, and someone shouted something, but it was hard to make out. Then came exclamations, and the rapid footsteps grew closer and closer.

He jumped to his feet.

The door to the signing room was suddenly flung open, and a blood-covered constable stumbled in.

The man was wearing a black official uniform, which was soaked in blood, a large dark red patch still dripping down.

His face was covered in blood, mud, and sweat, obscuring his features.

His lips were chapped and his eyes were sunken, as if he hadn't slept for days and nights.

As soon as he entered, he knelt down with a thud, his knees hitting the blue bricks with a dull thud. He lay sprawled on the ground, panting heavily, his shoulders heaving violently.

"Tang—Officer Tang—" he hissed, his voice like sandpaper scraping, so hoarse it was almost inaudible, "Lord Feng—Lord Feng, he—"

Tang Dingzhen's face changed instantly, all color draining from his eyes. He walked around the desk, rushed over, grabbed the constable's shoulder, and dug his fingers deep into the man's flesh.

"What's wrong with Lord Feng?!" His voice trembled, carrying a fear he himself was unaware of.

The constable looked up, his lips trembling, tears mixed with blood streaming down his face, leaving two shallow furrows. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, as if he had suffered a great shock.

"Lord Feng—he's been assassinated—" he said, each word strained as if he were using all his strength, "right there at Qing Shi Ridge—even, even the dozen or so brothers who accompanied him—are all gone—"

Tang Dingzhen's mind went blank.

His hand, which was gripping the constable's shoulder, froze there, as if he had been struck by lightning, completely motionless.

Qingshiling.

That was the only place on the trade route to the prefectural city, about eighty miles from the county seat. It was located at the foot of Qishan Mountain, with a dangerous terrain. There were steep cliffs on both sides and a narrow canyon in the middle, where bandits often roamed.

But who is Deputy Chief Inspector Feng?

A late-stage True Qi Realm expert, he is one of the top three masters in Qingyuan County. He has honed his iron palms for thirty years, capable of splitting stone tablets and shattering rocks; ordinary people simply cannot get close to him.

Who can kill him?

Who has the ability to kill him?

He snapped back to reality, increasing the pressure on his hand until he almost crushed the constable's shoulder. He leaned down, staring intently into the constable's eyes, and snapped, "What's going on?! Did you even see who you are?!"

The constable shook his head, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. His teeth chattered, making a clattering sound.

"I didn't see clearly—" he stammered, tears streaming down his face even more. "It was a group of men in black—extremely skilled in martial arts—all masked—they killed several of us in one fell swoop—Lord Feng—he—he held them off by himself, letting us run—when I, when I ran out to report the news, Lord Feng was already—"

He couldn't continue speaking; he simply lay on the ground, clutching his head in his hands, wailing and sobbing. His cries were hoarse and piercing, like those of a wounded wild beast echoing in the cramped divination room.

Tang Dingzhen released his grip, took a step back, and leaned against the table.

His legs were weak, and he braced himself on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. He stared blankly at the pool of blood on the ground. The constable had run all the way there, and the blood was still dripping, drop by drop, falling onto the blue bricks and spreading into dark red flowers.

Deputy Chief Inspector Feng is dead?

How could Deputy Chief Inspector Feng have died?

How could Deputy Chief Inspector Feng die?!

He suddenly looked up and shouted towards the door, "Someone come quick! Someone come quick!"

Footsteps approached from outside the door, and two constables appeared at the entrance. They were stunned when they saw the blood-covered man inside and Tang Dingzhen's ashen face.

Tang Dingzhen said, word by word, "Go quickly and bring Tang Dingzhen here! And—and all the deputy constables and head constables, bring them all here! Quickly!"

Half an hour later, in the main hall of the Zhenfu Division.

All the officers on duty had arrived and filled the room.

The main hall was large, and usually felt spacious during meetings, but now it was packed with people, even the doorways were full. No one spoke, only heavy breathing rose and fell, making it hard to breathe.

Everyone wore an expression of disbelief—bewilderment, fear, and helplessness.

Someone was trembling, their shoulders shaking, but they were trying their best not to make a sound.

Someone was swallowing, their Adam's apple bobbing up and down, making a soft gurgling sound. Someone else had their head down, their eyes red-rimmed, and they were biting their lip tightly.

Some people were leaning against the wall, as if they couldn't stand up, their hands clenched into fists, their nails digging into their flesh.

Tang Dingzhen sat at the head of the table, his face ashen, like a block of iron. His hands gripped the armrests of the chair, his knuckles white, veins bulging.

Tang Dingzhen stood beside him, her face even more pale than his, her lips white, constantly pursed as if she were trying her best to suppress something.

"The news has been confirmed." Tang Dingzhen spoke, his voice so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable as his own. "Lord Feng was assassinated at Qing Shi Ridge, and none of his companions survived."

After he finished speaking, the room fell into a deathly silence.

The deathly silence was like a boulder pressing down on everyone's heart, making it hard to breathe.

Then, as if their bones had been removed, the constables collapsed one by one.

Some people covered their faces, their shoulders twitching violently as they wept silently.

Someone leaned against the wall, closed their eyes, tilted their head back, and their Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Some people squatted on the ground, their hands covering their heads, curled up in a ball. Others stood motionless, their eyes vacant, as if they had lost their souls.

"How could this be—" someone murmured, their voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "Lord Feng—he's a late-stage True Qi Realm cultivator—"

"Isn't there a patrol station over at Qing Shi Ling? What are they doing?!" another person suddenly shouted, his voice filled with anger and fear.

"It's over—it's all over—" someone squatted on the ground, holding their head, muttering to themselves.

The whispers gradually turned into a cacophony, and the cacophony into wailing. Some people cried out loud, some pounded on the walls, and some paced back and forth, cursing under their breath.

Tang Dingzhen slammed his hand on the table.

With a loud "smash," the teacups on the table jumped up, splashing tea all over the table.

"Shut up, all of you!"

There was silence in the hall.

All eyes were on Tang Dingzhen.

Tang Dingzhen stood up. He swayed as he stood, and only managed to steady himself by holding onto the edge of the table. His gaze swept over everyone, and his eyes held sorrow, anger, but even more so, fear.

He suppressed his fear and said, word by word, "The assassination of Lord Feng is a momentous event for our Zhenfu Division. But now is not the time to cry." He paused, took a deep breath, and his chest heaved violently.

"The most urgent task is to stabilize the situation." His voice rose a few decibels, as if encouraging himself. "Some people go to Qishan and must find Lord Su and tell him the news! Some people go to the prefecture to report and wait for the prefecture to send someone! The rest of you, guard your homes and defend the city. No one is allowed to cause trouble!"

"Wait for the prefectural officials?" an old constable said with a bitter laugh. He stood in the crowd, his hair white, his face lined with deep wrinkles, his smile more painful than a grimace. He raised his hand and pointed to the door. "Chief Constable Tang, how long will it take for the prefectural officials to send someone? At least seven or eight days, at most half a month. Lord Su just left, who knows how long it will take to find them? What if something goes wrong..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what he meant.

What if...?

What if something happens to Su Bai too?

What if Su Bai doesn't come back?

In case the people from the county arrive late.

Those few companies.

The Wei family, the Wu family, the Xie family, the Wan family, the Chamber of Commerce Alliance, and the Iron Palm Gang, whose forces had only recently submitted.

When Deputy Chief Inspector Feng was around, they didn't dare to act recklessly, only daring to make small moves behind the scenes.

But with Deputy Chief Constable Feng dead and Lord Su missing, the Zhenfu Division is leaderless. Will they still behave themselves?

They will pounce on you like a pack of hungry wolves and tear the Zhenfu Division to pieces.

The main hall was eerily quiet.

Everyone thought of this.

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