Chapter Thirty-Four: Pressing the Advantage Relentlessly

What does it feel like to cultivate the Art of Qi Ingestion to the fourteenth level? He Chang’an could only think—it’s downright uncanny.

The booklet handed to him by the ghostly woman had spelled it out quite clearly: the Art of Qi Ingestion had a maximum of nine levels, and once the bottleneck was broken, one could ascend to the Tenth Rank of Martial Adept.

Could it truly be a fraudulent manual?

It remained uncertain. After all, that ghostly woman had only wanted him to practice the Art of Qi Ingestion so she could absorb and nurture a wisp of primal yang energy from him…

Now, even if he were to find a complete version of the technique, it would make no difference, for He Chang’an was already riding a tiger—unable to dismount.

His relentless “free ride” on the nether qi caused his cultivation to rise without pause, and Li Yishan’s cultivation rose in tandem, swiftly advancing to the Eighth Rank of Scholar.

At the same time, the mark deep within his soul, under the constant nourishment of ghostly energy, grew ever more solid…

If the matter could not be resolved in one fell swoop, once the owner of that mark—the so-called mastermind behind the Night God Sect—noticed, Li Yishan would become a corpse puppet within moments.

What now?

The little nun’s hunger had turned her eyes a ferocious green; she crouched behind the stone statue of Sage Kong, sucking on a finger and smacking her lips…

He Chang’an felt a chill just watching her.

He suspected that her gluttonous nature was due to her special constitution, and perhaps also connected to the monstrous imprint within her soul.

He Chang’an could only continue refining, packing more and more spiritual energy and righteous qi into his dantian and spirit sea, until he was nearly doubled over with pain.

An hour later, he heard a crisp “crack”—the Art of Qi Ingestion had leveled up again, now at the fifteenth layer;

Another hour and a half, and he reached the sixteenth layer…

…

At the entrance to Weiyang Academy, another group arrived, also in pursuit of He Chang’an.

This group was especially brazen.

Twelve in all, each clad in fine garments, astride spirited horses, their features handsome—though all possessed voices sharp and effeminate.

Imperial eunuchs?

Not only did the academy’s folk suspect so, but even the four black-clad men furrowed their brows, growing wary and silently retreating a few paces.

The county magistrate, on the other hand, was overjoyed. He hurried down from his horse, stepped forward, and with a beaming smile, asked, “Were you dispatched by Lord Gao?”

The lead eunuch gave a cold snort, ignoring the magistrate. Instead, he cast a sidelong glance at the four black-robed men and sneered,

“Nameless, Wordless, Lawless, and Heavenless—what audacity the Duke of Zhen has, sending out all four of his Shadows just to apprehend a mere constable, He Chang’an of Weiyang?

What a pity! Now that Lord Gao is intervening in this case, you gentlemen may return home.

Please!”

The four black-clad men were silent for a long moment. Using some esoteric method of direct transmission, they conferred for a few breaths, then mounted their horses without a word and rode off with a flick of their whips.

“Zhao Zheng: We were all mistaken. Those four aren’t from the Demon-Slaying Bureau, but are the Duke of Zhen’s Shadows.”

“Du Thirteen: That’s not surprising. Our academy has kept its distance from the court for centuries; some things are beyond our knowledge.”

“Wen Taiyuan: Four Shadows depart, twelve eunuchs arrive. This omen bodes ill.”

“Zhao Zheng, Du Thirteen: How so?”

“Wen Taiyuan: What’s the greatest dread for scholars who write books and compose records?”

“Zhao Zheng, Du Thirteen: What?”

“Wen Taiyuan: Not roughness, nor hardness—the real trouble is a lack of stamina…”

“Zhao Zheng, Du Thirteen: Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

“Wen Taiyuan: That’s why, truly, the last thing a scholar wishes to encounter are those damned eunuchs…”

…

Having dispatched the four Shadows of the Duke of Zhen in a few words, the lead eunuch spurred his horse forward, stopping before the academy’s scholars with a beaming smile.

“Zhao Zheng, Wen Taiyuan, Du Thirteen, and the little fish Ma Dai…

Are you aware of your crimes?”

The headmaster stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, chin raised to the sky, and said coolly, “Scholars read the books of sages and walk the righteous path, upright and unashamed. We have not cut away our parents’ lifeblood to feed the dogs; what crimes could we possibly have?”

When it came to verbal sparring, no one bested the scholars.

At these words, all twelve eunuchs’ faces turned an ashen green; with a swish, they drew their jeweled swords from their belts.

“Zhao Zheng, you court death!” the lead eunuch spat through gritted teeth.

“Heh! Others press on despite adversity—yet you, at the first word, leap to talk of life and death. You’re the one lacking culture!” Before Zhao Zheng could reply, Ma Dai stepped out from behind and launched a scathing retort.

“Ma Dai! Show some respect when speaking to an imperial eunuch!” Zhao Zheng frowned and reprimanded him: “Everyone knows the evil of death, yet who knows its tranquility?

You, a dignified Sixth-Rank Scholar, to be so coarse and ill-mannered—are you truly a student of mine?

With conduct such as yours, I’d have sooner had you castrated and sent to the palace. Who knows, you might even have earned some status by now…”

Kukuku…

The headmaster’s words were so absurd that some among the county yamen could barely contain their laughter. It was all they could do to stifle it, their shoulders shaking, snorts escaping like so many pigs.

“Zhao Zheng, your academy grows bolder by the day! Do you dare defy the imperial decree?” a eunuch shouted in fury, raising his whip as if to charge forward.

“Is that so? Pray tell, which imperial edict did His Majesty issue to my academy?” Zhao Zheng replied cheerfully.

“To your academy? Bah!” the eunuch retorted, so angry he could only laugh. “We are here by imperial order to arrest the criminal He Chang’an. You bookish paupers, get out of the way!”

“That’s all? You mean, you’re here for He Chang’an, not to arrest our academy’s scholars?” The headmaster’s rage flared, and he pointed an accusing finger. “Falsifying imperial decrees, framing the innocent, slandering scholars—who gave you the nerve?

You claim we defy the emperor’s command, but you’re spouting pure slander!

Tell me, who issued the edict to our academy? Was it you eunuchs, or the Emperor, the Empress, or perhaps the Crown Prince?

If there was no decree to us, how can you say we defy it?

Today, unless you clarify your words, I’ll break the legs of all twelve of you!”

So saying, the headmaster gathered up his broad scholar’s robe, tucked it into his belt, and strode forward, releasing a surge of righteous scholarly qi at the Third Rank…

To intimidate scholars—who gave you the gall?

To utter such flawed logic before a crowd of learned men, and yet hope to throw your weight around here, you clearly have no idea what a scholar’s daily life is like: quibbling over words, embellishing phrases, boasting, and out-arguing each other…

“Zhao Zheng, do not be reckless!” The lead eunuch was beginning to panic.

Academy scholars were infamous throughout the Tang realm for their obstinacy. When in the wrong, they remained silent, even if spat upon; but once they held the moral high ground, they would hound you relentlessly…

“Reckless? How could a frail scholar like me be reckless?” Zhao Zheng strode forward, voice thundering:

“Falsifying edicts, speaking nonsense, stirring up trouble, lording over others—you pack of curs!

You parade about outside, caring nothing for the imperial family’s face or the dignity of the court, quick to draw your swords and charge. Do you mean to silence us by force?”

All twelve eunuchs turned a sickly shade of green.

Debating with scholars—why was it always so exhausting?