Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Thirty-Five: Chen Must Die

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Chen Chang’an had every reason to suspect that the reason Su Dingfeng brought him here was nothing more than a veiled warning: if he dared not to cooperate, he would end up like the yellow dog that day.

Since a prior warning had been given, he dared not overstep his bounds, but he also understood that one must never lose in presence. With his hands clasped behind his back, assuming all the airs of a master, he drew a deep breath and intoned loudly, “This is the Chen Clan’s secret art, never to be passed on. Seeing your sincerity, I will share it with you.”

“You have a blade of blue steel, long locked away by worldly dust. When the years clear, it gleams anew… cleaving through a thousand mountains and rivers.”

Boom!

Su Dingfeng, whose nerves were taut as a bowstring, felt in that instant as though he were bathed in the warmth of spring amidst a world of snow, or as if he were soaking in a hot bath after a long, arduous journey—content, comfortable, and utterly satisfied.

Gradually, this feeling swelled into pride, a most triumphant pride.

And then, a boundless arrogance, as if he alone reigned supreme.

In his mind’s eye, he saw himself—the great swordsman Su—ascending straight into the heavens, a single sword stroke carving across the land for miles, the sword’s light and force flattening every peak, no matter how high, every ridge, no matter how steep.

Yes, it was precisely this grandeur, this unrestrained dominance—cleaving through a thousand mountains and rivers—that gave purpose to the earlier lines and matched the outrage of a blade long shackled by dust.

“Hahaha! I, Su Dingfeng, am the personal disciple of the Bashan Sword Sect!”

He drew his iron sword, flicked it from the scabbard with two fingers so it landed perfectly in his hand, and called out at the top of his lungs: “You have a blade of blue steel, long locked away by worldly dust. When the years clear, it gleams anew, cleaving through a thousand mountains and rivers—cleaving through a thousand mountains and rivers!”

With a light tap of his toes, he soared upward, and above Princess Changning’s residence, he slashed eastward, sword light fanning out in a brilliant arc. Then, without pause, he flashed to a farther spot, changing direction and swinging again.

Change direction—slash!

Change direction, change direction—slash, slash!

Change direction, change direction, change direction—slash! Slash! Slash!

At last, he gradually disappeared from Chen Chang’an’s blurred vision.

Before this half-blind son-in-law could marvel at his brother-in-law’s madness, someone behind him spoke: “Su Dingfeng is rather amusing.”

Chen Chang’an turned to see Cao Wu.

Heh. He should really be called Su Dinglunatic, Chen Chang’an thought wryly. Bowing, he said, “Greetings, Deputy Commander Cao. Thank you for your help this time.”

Cao Wu smiled lightly. “No need to thank me. Those villains threatened Chang’an and plotted against Her Highness the Princess—they were within the jurisdiction of the Black-Clad Guards. Besides, what you wrote in your letter ensured I didn’t give my colleagues any leverage against me.”

Chen Chang’an grinned sheepishly, about to seek another topic, when Cao Wu produced a badge of solid gold, engraved with a tall building, and said, “Perhaps I can find someone to cure your eyes. Are you interested in joining the Black-Clad Guards?”

Anyone familiar with Cao Wu knew she rarely spoke more than ten words at a time, her cold beauty as if sculpted from ice, her face rarely betraying emotion. Yet now, facing Chen Chang’an, she seemed unusually invested.

Chen was momentarily stunned. “Sister Wu, what exactly do the Black-Clad Guards do?”

Cao Wu explained patiently, “We oversee all officials of the fifth rank and above, as well as cases involving the imperial family, and we maintain the security of Chang’an.”

“Hmm, Sister Wu, the Black-Clad Guards are admirable, but maybe not the best fit for me.”

Chen Chang’an shook his head and declined politely. From the start, he hadn’t intended to join; his question was merely a convenient segue. First, he couldn’t stand the endless scheming, and second, he disliked being ruled by so-called superiors or imperial authority.

He much preferred the world of the martial fraternity to the court.

Cao Wu’s expression hardly changed at his answer. She firmly pressed the golden badge into his hand. “Think it over. There’s no rush. If you decide, bring the badge to Black-Clad Lane and find me.”

“Alright, alright,” Chen Chang’an replied obediently, accepting it without further comment—one should never burn all bridges.

“Mhm.”

Cao Wu nodded. “Of course, I also came because Her Highness the Princess wishes to see you.”

…

A short while later, Chen Chang’an arrived in the main hall, where only Changning remained. Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng had returned to draft detailed case files for their superior, Wen Changming. As for Cao Wu, she had gone back to Black-Clad Lane to assign guards to the princess’s residence.

Changning, swinging her legs from a pearwood chair, said, “You cracked the Xiaolian case and saw through the villains’ plot in time. Chen Chang’an, you deserve the most credit. As promised, whatever reward you want, just scram—I mean, just say the word.”

“Scram…” Chen Chang’an’s eyes widened.

Changning waved her hand. “No, no, slip of the tongue. Just say it.”

He wanted to ask for a mountain of gold and a harem of wives, but in the end, restrained himself and answered with principle, “Your Highness, as agreed, please just restore the Su family’s household registration within the inner city.”

Changning’s eyes, clear as glass beads, studied him, head tilted. “But weren’t you already expelled from the Su family? Why are you pleading on their behalf?”

Chen Chang’an rubbed his forehead, a bit embarrassed. “Now I’m back in.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go see my mother about it soon. It’s not a difficult matter.”

With that, she glanced around to ensure no one was present, ran over, shut the door tightly, and leaned in close to Chen Chang’an’s ear, looking furtive and wary of eavesdroppers, whispering, “How did you know about the registry book?”

“Ah… well…”

Little Chen’s nerves tightened. Princess Changning seemed carefree and silly, but that didn’t mean she was a fool. Though he had only obliquely mentioned the tung oil paper, it had clearly caught her attention.

“I… I… I overheard it from the bandits during the investigation—they wanted to learn how to reveal the writing on the tung oil paper. As for the registry book—what’s that?”

He lifted his chin and widened his eyes in feigned innocence and curiosity.

The simple-minded Princess Changning chose to trust him completely, even conjuring up an image of Chen torturing the bandits into confessing everything. She patted her chest in relief, “It’s good you don’t know about the registry book—just as well you don’t!”

“What was that, Your Highness?” Chen Chang’an asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh, nothing, nothing!” she replied with a smile.

“Ah!”

Suddenly, as she laughed, she leapt half a meter high like a startled rabbit, exclaiming in alarm, “Oh no, oh no! Xu Hezi was a fake—now there’s no one to paint a portrait for the Empress for her birthday… What am I going to do?”

“Oh dear!”

She began rummaging anxiously through the room. “A cup—how about this Nine Dragons Cup from the Western Regions?”

“No, no, the Empress already has plenty, and besides, it’s hardly novel.”

“Jewelry then—ugh, no, that’s even worse, she lacks for nothing! My brothers and sisters are all preparing their gifts so carefully, and I… oh, woe is me!”

Watching her flustered antics, Chen Chang’an’s mind began to turn. Changning was unlike other princes and princesses—she was someone worth befriending, honest to a fault, believing anything said to her. If he built a good relationship, she could be a reliable ally in Chang’an in the future.

At the very least, for minor troubles, she could be counted on to help.

In this world, one must cultivate ties with two kinds of people: first, powerful experts like Cao Wu; second, the ruling class. Only by bowing to the mighty can one hope to live happily.

“Your Highness, I do have something that would make the perfect gift for Her Majesty the Empress—guaranteed to outshine anything the other princes could offer.” Chen Chang’an bowed low.

“Really? Quick, quick, quick!” Changning rushed over, hands outstretched, as if ready to strangle him for the answer.

Chen Chang’an gasped for breath. “Your… Your Highness, let me return and prepare it. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright! Alright!” Changning clapped with delight, all smiles. “Wait here—I’m going to the palace right now to ask my mother to restore your household registration.”

…

In the main hall of a certain residence, the master of the house sat facing the door, gripping a blank white registry book, his beard bristling, eyes wide with murderous fury. “Damn it, damn it! Success was within my grasp—how could it unravel at the last moment?”

“This blind fool Chen Chang’an dares to ruin my plans again and again! Though we’ve obtained the book from Sanyuan Temple, without knowing how to reveal the writing, what use is it?”

At his side, the ever-steady, ever-confident Master Fenyang, usually upright as a pine, could not hide his gloom. “Indeed. Who would have thought that fellow Chen would be so troublesome? I risked exposure and barely escaped from Cao Wu’s grasp this time.”

He sighed, then changed the subject himself. “I’ve noticed something strange about Chen Chang’an.”

“Oh? What is it?” the master asked, eyes bright.

Master Fenyang, wounded, coughed lightly and caught his breath before answering, “Whether in the Sanyuan Temple case or the Xiaolian affair, he was never at the heart of things.”

“At Sanyuan Temple, only his father-in-law Su Qingtang witnessed the whole incident, yet Su Qingtang clearly saw nothing amiss, not even when his entire family was sentenced. So how, as a blind outsider, did Chen Chang’an unravel the truth step by step?”

“And this time, our main goal was to use Princess Changning to discover how to reveal the writing left by Zhao Yantai in the registry book, hence sending someone to impersonate Xu Hezi as the artist.”

“But Changning herself, terrified that Bai Wan might find out and blame her for Zhao Yantai’s secret, never dared let outsiders know. So how could Chen Chang’an have known, and how did he fix his attention precisely on the tung oil paper?”

“This blind man is dangerous. He must die!”

The master slammed the table in anger. “Yes, he must die. We strike tonight!”