Zhang Hongyuan, struck by an iron palm, collapsed to the floor, teeth rattling, blood seeping from his lips, his mind dazed and reeling.
“Brother, why are you here?” he mumbled.
“You bastard! You’ll ruin our family!” Zhang Zhaoyuan, in silver armor, clenched his fists, raining blows on his younger brother with heavy force, though deliberately avoiding vital spots.
Blood brothers, after all.
Otherwise, with his Qian Yuan Realm cultivation, two punches could’ve sent Zhang Hongyuan to the afterlife.
Moments later, Ji Yanqing stepped into the mansion’s elegant hall, followed by a hesitant Ji Qingyan. Her tight, thief-like night gear clashed with the soldiers’ style, making her look like a freshly caught criminal.
“Lieutenant Zhang, a few punches to vent is fine, but if you kill him, how will I interrogate and convict him? And how will you explain it to General Zhang?” Ji Yanqing said, snapping open his fan.
“Yes, sir!” Zhang Zhaoyuan knelt on one knee, sweat beading on his forehead.
Most saw the Wei King’s Heir as a lustful dandy, but as his close aide, Zhang Zhaoyuan knew his ruthless methods.
Crossing the Heir was tantamount to suicide.
“Ma Lingyun, your businesses have been thriving lately!” Ji Yanqing said grandly, sitting in the main seat, pouring half a cup of fine wine.
“Thanks to Your Highness’s favor, the Ma family prospers,” Ma Lingyun replied cautiously, his face all flattery.
Gone was the swagger of Ye City’s local tyrant.
Though confused by the situation, Ma Lingyun saw the Heir’s presence as an opportunity. If played right, he might leverage the Wei King’s Mansion to crush the Bronze Sparrow Chamber.
For now, the Heir didn’t seem here to trouble him—unlike Zhang Zhaoyuan, who was in for it.
‘The heavens bless the Ma family!’ Ma Lingyun thought gleefully.
“With war raging in the Western Regions, Father’s quite anxious,” Ji Yanqing said, draining his cup. “Yet at such a time, someone dares embezzle military supplies. How should they be dealt with?”
Ma Lingyun’s heart sank. By Yanxia law, embezzling military supplies meant flaying and stuffing—a gruesome fate.
“Such vermin should face strict punishment! But solid evidence is needed, lest we chill the hearts of the innocent,” he said.
“Well said. Heroine Ji, agree?” Ji Yanqing asked, glancing at the beauty behind him.
“Sounds good,” she replied.
“Then please stop gripping your sword hilt. My neck’s feeling chilly,” he quipped.
Ji Qingyan quickly moved her hand, flashing a sheepish grin to breeze past the moment.
Ji Yanqing snorted, the sleazy narrator’s voice echoing in his mind.
[This fiery, tsundere heroine must be thrilling to tame. Your desires burn uncontrollably. She’s erred, so she must pay. Candles and whips would make fine toys…]
Attacking the body is crude; attacking the heart is supreme. The narrator would never get it.
The worst yellow-haired villains revel in brute force. True mastery lies in drawing closer to the heroine through daily life, letting her sink willingly into devotion—the pinnacle of NTR.
Yet, isn’t that a form of pure love?
“Sit beside me,” Ji Yanqing said softly, brushing her slender legs as a secondary motive. Mainly, he feared a sneak attack from Ji Qingyan, tricking the nineteen-year-old Heir.
Though the odds were near zero.
“I’d rather die than sit with a shameless rogue like you,” Ji Qingyan declared righteously, ignoring that she’d ridden here nestled in his arms on the Night-Illuminating Jade Lion.
“Really?” Ji Yanqing raised an eyebrow, feigning regret. “I was planning to return Shadow Bearer after the New Year…”
Before he finished, a rose-like fragrance wafted near. Ji Qingyan quietly sat beside him.
She’d been held and touched by him—what was sitting together?
For Shadow Bearer, she’d go all out.
To her surprise, Ji Yanqing was utterly proper—no groping, not even a sidelong glance.
He chuckled, turning to the Ma father and son. “Ji Province’s Zhechong Prefecture lost six hundred jin of black iron. Any leads to ease my worries?”
“Wasn’t it just four hundred jin?” Ma Yang asked, puzzled, his innocent eyes fixed on the Heir.
“Oh, good memory, Master Ma,” Ji Yanqing said, suppressing a grin. “So, where’s the iron?”
Slap!
A resounding slap echoed, followed by Ma Lingyun’s furious rebuke. “Foolish son, how dare you spout nonsense before His Highness!”
“Your Highness, my son’s dim-witted. Please forgive him,” Ma Lingyun said, all smiles. “Though we know nothing of the missing iron, we won’t trouble you.”
“Here’s thirty thousand taels from the Bronze Sparrow Bank. Please accept it,” he said, presenting the notes respectfully.
“Four hundred jin of iron’s worth fifteen thousand taels. The rest—is that a bribe?” Ji Yanqing asked.
“I wouldn’t dare! Winter’s near; these are just to buy Your Highness warm clothes,” Ma Lingyun replied.
Ji Yanqing shook his head, thinking Ma had mastered the art of favors. Pity he was doomed.
“Fifteen thousand taels—generous. But if I find the iron tonight and seize your mansion, I’d gain far more,” Ji Yanqing said, patting his shoulder with a smile.
Ma Lingyun swallowed, making a final gamble. “The Ma family is clean, honest in trade, and hasn’t touched military supplies. Why trouble us, Your Highness?”
Such fine acting—Ji Yanqing almost believed him.
“Search the study. First cabinet, third row, there’s a fixed white jade vase. Turn it left two and a half times to open a hidden floor compartment. The iron’s there,” Ji Yanqing ordered.
As a Canglan Goddess Chronicles completionist, he knew the “Black Iron Case” template by heart.
Ma Lingyun’s face turned ashen. The moment the Heir entered, the Ma family’s fate was sealed.
With a focused thought, Ji Yanqing’s black, edgeless sword appeared. Two swift slashes drew a graceful arc, effortlessly claiming the lives of Ma Lingyun and Ma Yang.
Their corpses bore no wounds, yet their faces twisted in agony, as if their souls had been carved away.
The Source Dao-tier Soul-Coagulating Nether Art was terrifyingly potent.
“Lieutenant Zhang, what of your brother?” Ji Yanqing asked.
“By Yanxia law… his limbs’ meridians should be severed,” Zhang Zhaoyuan said, trembling.