Volume One: The Wild Boy Chapter Fifty-Two: Reasoning with Zhou

Whether it was laughter and ridicule, or cold detachment as if watching a play, in that instant, all fell silent.

The aura of the blade did not draw forth resonance from heaven and earth; indeed, amid the fickle warmth and chill of human sentiments, it seemed frail and insubstantial.

A lone rider, charging against a thousand.

Yet behind the hero was only the bleak autumn wind and a shivering horse, while before him stood the towering “windmills”—unmoved, unyielding.

It all seemed so hopelessly outmatched, naturally inviting unprovoked scorn and derision.

This world, as always, is full of such bitter ironies.

Fortunately, the petty onlookers had shut their mouths, for in the space of a heartbeat, Tiger Shizhen’s formation was shattered beyond repair.

Before their eyes, his vanguard was so thoroughly routed by Lin Changtian that every man was fleeing in terror, not one daring to look back at the harbinger of death. Tiger Shizhen’s eyes burned with malice; never had he imagined that a mere official from the East City Patrol could possess such martial prowess. He felt a twinge of regret—for all his preparations and martial display, he had only thought of making a show of power, never considering the savage ferocity of this adversary.

But time was running out. Any further hesitation, and once this killing star had utterly broken his soldiers’ morale, Tiger Shizhen himself would become the greatest laughingstock of Ruzhou City.

What did reputation matter, when his very life was at stake in this stinking, wretched place?

With that thought, Tiger Shizhen steeled himself and, surrounded by his retinue, charged toward Lin Changtian.

Yet in the blink of an eye, he collapsed to the ground. The heads and bodies of his personal guards parted ways in an instant—their bodies still charging ahead, their severed heads already cursing Tiger Shizhen’s ancestors in the underworld.

Soon, all the living soldiers had fled, leaving Tiger Shizhen alone, trembling before the blood-soaked demon who stood before him.

“Anyone got wine? Spare me a little!” Yet Lin Changtian did not kill him; instead, he turned to the remaining onlookers and asked for food and drink.

Most of those who had come to watch the spectacle had already scattered in terror; those who remained were all well-known figures in Ruzhou.

The first to promise Lin Changtian a meal hastily tossed him a bottle of wine, cupping his hands in respect, admiration plain on his brow. “I had intended to invite the East City Patrol Chief to dinner, for it’s always troublesome to draw the attention of local officials. But today, I truly wish to drink with you as a man, though my own life and safety will not permit it. Still, from now on, at the Willow House in the East City, as long as you come, I will risk my life to accompany you!”

Lin Changtian uncorked the wine tossed by the Willow House’s manager, took a hearty swig, then handed the bottle to the crumpled Tiger Shizhen. “You cut me off before I’d finished speaking. Drink this wine, and then I’ll have a proper talk with you.”

Tiger Shizhen dared not accept, groveling instead. “Is this my executioner’s wine? I’ve truly provoked the wrong man, not knowing you were the true power of the East City.”

Lin Changtian brought the back of his blade down hard, bashing Tiger Shizhen’s head until blood mixed with the dirt. Tiger Shizhen dared not raise his head, groveling on the ground and begging for mercy.

“My turn to speak! You’d best listen and remember: the so-called ‘divinity of the East City’—believe what you will, but don’t bring that smirking face to me, the kind that bullies the weak with impunity but grovels when struck. You have ten breaths to finish this wine. Fail, and you know well enough what fate awaits you.”

Gritting his teeth, Tiger Shizhen grabbed the jug and poured it down his throat, not even tasting it, veins bulging as his whole body convulsed.

“Five, four, three, two, one!” As Lin Changtian counted down, Tiger Shizhen drained the last drop, belched, and stared at Lin Changtian, grinning vacantly, uncaring of the filth staining his clothes.

Lin Changtian hauled him up, then flung him back to the ground in disgust. “Clean yourself up! Tell me, do you still care about the Tiger family’s reputation?”

Drunk and dazed, Tiger Shizhen feebly waved his hand, then knelt. “I beg for my life; reputation means nothing to me now.”

Lin Changtian nodded, sitting cross-legged. Tiger Shizhen hurried to flatten himself to the ground, nearly pressing his face into the dirt.

“Sit up straight!” Lin Changtian barked, startling Tiger Shizhen into sitting bolt upright, still trembling, a fawning smile on his face. “Whatever you command, I will obey.”

“Are you a parent-official of Ruzhou?” Tiger Shizhen, seeing Lin Changtian’s cold glare, dared not answer, but could not evade the question. “I am and I’m not. I do oversee public safety, but I’m just a lackey for those in power. A real parent-official—I dare not claim such a title.”

“Since you oversee order, let me ask: before I came to East City, why was it that people dared not walk the streets at night?” Tiger Shizhen wiped his brow, relieved, thinking he was only being questioned for negligence, and replied with the usual excuses he gave his superiors. “You can’t blame me. I may look corrupt and greedy, but that’s not the case. East City isn’t within the patrol’s direct control; you must know, given Ruzhou’s hierarchy, I have no authority there. Besides, East City is a den of mixed powers, entangled with the Seven Clans. How could I possibly manage it?”

As he spoke, emboldened by drink, Tiger Shizhen spat on the ground. “So, you think that by dealing with me today, Ruzhou will suddenly be cleansed? You’re just a green youth! Don’t be fooled by my appearance—I’ve survived the bureaucracy for years. In Wen Yuan’s mortal world, officials are never chosen from among the Awakened, nor are nobles ever appointed. Do you know who the real lord of Ruzhou is? That so-called leader of the Ten Elders, Wei Shaoqing? Bah! He’s nothing but a scheming old bastard. I was once an honest official, forced into becoming a Wei family lackey! If you don’t rid us of them, what’s the point of coming after me?”

Lin Changtian frowned, then sneered coldly, his tone turning icy. “So you’re blameless? You slaughtered that big man’s family lying there, and claim to have done nothing wrong!” As he spoke, his hand dropped to his sword, radiating murderous intent.

Yet emboldened by wine, Tiger Shizhen showed no fear, meeting Lin Changtian’s gaze. “I’ll tell you the truth—I’ve done wrong, but I’ve never plotted to kill anyone! That man, Liu Er, had only a paralyzed wife. I secured aid for his household, and even arranged for his wife to be moved to a city infirmary. Do you really think killing a widow would keep dozens of soldiers occupied until nightfall? It’s about saving face—how else could I stand in Ruzhou after this? Even if I just paid compensation, her fate would be grim! That widow had some beauty, and you know what Ruzhou’s ‘customs’ are like—she’d be robbed and violated to death before the night was over! You just wave that broken sword at me, but if you’re so capable, go deal with Wei Shaoqing and the Seven Clans’ Elders!”

Tiger Shizhen’s eyes reddened as he roared at Lin Changtian. A gust of wind swept through, and vast Ruzhou fell into silence once more.

But as the wind sobered him, Tiger Shizhen slumped in defeat, eyes dead. Offending the youth was one thing—death would be a release. But having cursed the Seven Clans’ Elders just now? That was a calamity that could wipe out his entire family.

Lin Changtian said nothing, quietly listening to Tiger Shizhen’s tirade, shaking his head with a bitter smile. He closed his eyes, calming himself, and soon his demeanor was serene—as if all his anger melted away before another’s helplessness.

In truth, more than anything, he felt powerless.

“Without Yu Baili’s abilities, and still imitating his pursuit of justice—I must be mad.” Lin Changtian could not continue. The murderous aura that had been so strong now weighed heavily on his heart, impossible to dispel.

For the first time, the young man felt the helplessness of power.

Power cannot rid the world of evil, nor can it reach where evil festers. Power may suppress crimes, but not all crimes deserve death.

But silence did not last. Armored soldiers soon surrounded East City, among them even some Awakened from the Seven Clans.

They had come to purge Ruzhou of “evil.”

Lin Changtian’s gaze grew sharp; he at last knew how to answer Tiger Shizhen. “Well, watch closely—for today, I truly intend to see Ruzhou laid bare, to find who can answer the doubts in my heart. Stand aside, and don’t get hurt.”

Tiger Shizhen raised his brows, sobering up considerably, but could not suppress his words. “I know you’re here at Yang Wuliu’s behest—but do you know who sent my brother to make trouble? It was Wei Shaoqing, trying to warn Yang Wuliu. That old fox is far too cunning; he’ll never show his face now that things have gone this far.”

Lin Changtian laughed. Since arriving in Ruzhou, he had bottled up countless frustrations, now released upon the real and the false, the good and the wicked alike in Tiger Shizhen. His laughter was hearty, reminiscent of the day Yu Baili had chosen him as the firebrand for the Northern Domain amid the masses.

“And those Awakened above,” Lin Changtian called out, gazing up with a genial smile, “from which clan do you hail? Why not come down and speak with me?” His tone was light, but his hand rested heavy on his sword, murderous intent only growing.

Once again, Ruzhou was thrown into turmoil.

The Awakened from the Seven Clans were, in truth, not men of great renown, yet even such as they stood on a peak unattainable to most under heaven.

The leader, a swordsman wrapped in a raincloak and conical hat, descended slowly, looking casual amid the crowd. “Hmph, so some Awakened upstart with brute strength dares to mimic us, playing with swords and spears? Let me show you how a blade is truly wielded…”

Before he could finish, Lin Changtian’s blade sliced open his throat. The swordsman’s eyes bulged as he gasped his last, “Young man… you… you have no sense of honor…”

With that, he toppled over, blood spattering as the other Awakened stared in stunned silence.

But soon, their eyes shed all hint of mockery. What they had thought would be a routine affair had become a deadly challenge.

“I am the Nag Horse of the Gan Clan, and I challenge you!” The young man in green robes, his garments fluttering, donned a mantle of battle energy, his whole being aflame with fighting spirit as he fixed a blazing gaze on Lin Changtian, utterly fearless.

The Gan Clan had a rule: among brothers of the same generation, no matter their original names, once one achieved distinction, he would take the title of Jade Qilin, while the rest bore the name “Nag Horse” to honor the family’s glory. Since Gan Yulin joined the Ten Elders, the “Nag Horse” title had become a mark of destiny.

Yet which among them was truly content to remain beneath others forever? In other words, those who accepted their fate became true nag horses.

But this youth in green was revealing his own sharpness!

Lin Changtian grinned. At last, an opponent worthy of facing. He drew his blade more slowly, as if to let this Gan Clan Nag Horse fully witness the force contained within.

The young man’s brow furrowed. When the blade moved swiftly, he could see nothing—but when its aura unfolded in full, his heart quailed, an urge to retreat rising within him.

Even when Gan Yulin stood at the height of his power, he had never felt resigned to fate.

Yet now, with just a glance at this blade, all his fighting spirit was gone.