Chapter Twenty-Four: Joining the Crowd

Within the grand hall, Cao Zhengchun and Yu Huatian stood opposed, their words sharp as blades. Zhu Yu, having just listened to Yu Huatian, had yet to untangle his thoughts when he turned to Cao Zhengchun. But before he could speak, Cao Zhengchun began anew.

“Hmph! Such base words, Your Majesty must consider carefully. The Western Bureau’s capabilities are indeed lacking. Before Your Majesty has even left the palace, my men have already presented the Western Bureau’s recent movements. Such carelessness and utter lack of vigilance—where can Your Majesty find comfort? Where can our nation find security?”

With this heavy accusation, Yu Huatian could no longer remain silent. Dispensing with the usual formalities, he spoke out directly, “Your Majesty, this is slander! It is clear that Cao Zhengchun has planted spies within my Western Bureau. I dare to assure you that our plans for this journey were flawlessly secret!”

Their earlier quarrel had left Zhu Yu’s mind muddled, but as soon as the matter touched his own safety, clarity returned at once. He asked, “Cao Zhengchun, are you saying you’ve uncovered all of the Western Bureau’s operations?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Cao Zhengchun replied, producing a stack of diagrams from his robe and presenting them.

Unable to decipher them himself, Zhu Yu flipped through a couple at random before tossing them before Yu Huatian. “See if these are the Western Bureau’s plans.”

Unlike Zhu Yu, Yu Huatian examined each page with painstaking care, his expression growing darker with every turn.

There was no longer any need to ask; Zhu Yu already saw the answer in his face. Though for the sake of his own security he ought to switch to the Eastern Bureau, time was of the essence. Who knew when that so-called gang would strike at Mount Wuliang? When would Duan Yu arrive there?

Thus, Zhu Yu resolved to give Yu Huatian one chance.

“Yu Huatian, did you not accuse the Eastern Bureau of planting spies in the Western Bureau? I grant you three days to root out these spies—bring evidence. If you succeed, your bureau will proceed with this journey as planned. If not, the Eastern Bureau will take over.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The two replied in unison.

Yu Huatian and Cao Zhengchun both received the imperial command, but while one’s face was dark as ink, the other’s was wreathed in triumphant smiles.

…

After a period of calm, the court was once again stirred by new waves: the Western Bureau had suddenly launched a great purge of the Zhaoyi Prison!

At first, panic spread through court and country alike. Some thought that, not even days after Chancellor Cai’s death, the Western Bureau’s new overseer had moved against them. But soon it became clear the Western Bureau was only arresting their own. Gradually, the uproar subsided.

—

Three days passed. At the appointed time, both Cao Zhengchun and Yu Huatian arrived together to meet in the imperial study.

Seated at the head, Zhu Yu perused the evidence Yu Huatian had submitted, inwardly marvelling at the man’s abilities.

He himself had not expected much when he granted those three days, but Yu Huatian not only found solid proof, he unearthed a host of Eastern Bureau spies as well. Judging from his actions, it seemed Yu Huatian had always known of their existence.

Zhu Yu looked at the evidence, then up at the two men, finding the contrast amusing.

Three days ago, Yu Huatian’s face had been as dark as thunder; now, it was radiant with joy. By contrast, Cao Zhengchun’s formerly beaming visage was now wrinkled and ashen.

“Cao Zhengchun, what need had you to plant so many spies in the Western Bureau? Does the Eastern Bureau have too many idle hands? If this happens again, I will not be so lenient!” With evidence this overwhelming, Zhu Yu’s mere verbal warning was already a merciful gesture.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I take my leave.” As he departed, Cao Zhengchun shot a sidelong glare at Yu Huatian, who only smiled all the more broadly, stoking Cao’s frustration as he stormed out.

With these trivial matters settled, Zhu Yu was at last ready to embark on his quest for merit. He gave Yu Huatian a direct order: “Make ready. We depart at dawn!”

…

A few days later, in Anyang City.

A seemingly ordinary carriage rolled slowly along the city’s main thoroughfare.

It only appeared ordinary. Any discerning eye would notice the sheer extravagance of its construction—the wood, though unremarkable in appearance, was incredibly light, astonishingly sturdy, and possessed unmatched resistance to fire and water. Coated with a special lacquer, the carriage was practically impervious to blades, spears, water, and flame.

This mysterious timber, like the celestial-patterned fabric draping the carriage, was reserved solely for the imperial household. The wood itself was supplied only to the military, and only a few connoisseurs even knew of its existence. It had no name in common parlance, forever shrouded in secrecy.

A carriage of normal size would require just a single horse, but this one was drawn by two priceless Ferghana stallions.

Perhaps it was the carriage’s opulence that deterred would-be thieves, or perhaps it was the constant, invisible presence of countless martial experts guarding its passage, but thus far, none of the roadside ambushes so common in tales of the jianghu had come to pass.

—

Within the carriage sat none other than the Emperor of Jingguo, Zhu Yu.

The driver outside was none other than the renowned Overseer of the Western Bureau, Yu Huatian.

Listening to the hawkers’ cries beyond the carriage, Zhu Yu felt an itch of restlessness. To be frank, traveling long distances in ancient times was a true ordeal. Though he wanted for nothing in food or comfort and was spared the elements, being cooped up in this small carriage for days on end was suffocating.

Fortunately, these complaints were kept to himself. Were any of the wandering martial folk to hear such words, they’d drown him in spit before ever lifting a sword.

“Steward Tian, I wish to disembark. I’m bored to death in here—if I stay any longer, my bones will rust!” Zhu Yu called out, his voice full of complaint.

Yu Huatian, addressed as Steward Tian, first cast a vigilant glance about, and, seeing nothing amiss, replied in a low voice, “Young Master, do be cautious when you alight. The street is crowded.”

“Understood.” With that, Zhu Yu leapt from the carriage.

The moment he did, over twenty martial experts disguised as ordinary townsfolk tensed, ready to strike at any threat.

Yu Huatian, too, slipped silently from the driver’s seat, shadowing Zhu Yu at every step. Unnoticed by Zhu Yu, who cared only for his own safety, a new, unfamiliar driver had already taken Yu Huatian’s place.

Zhu Yu, lacking martial skill himself, had no desire to risk the perils of the jianghu unguarded. As long as Yu Huatian was nearby, he felt secure. After all, this world was no mere tale of history—here, trouble and heroes lurked at every turn.

He took in the bustling prosperity of Anyang, so different from the capital. The street vendors did not shout for customers, instead waiting patiently for fate to bring buyers to their stalls—a business model that, surprisingly, worked well enough.

So Zhu Yu strolled idly along the street, taking in the sights.

He had not walked far when he noticed a crowd up ahead, growing dense and jostling. Glancing back to ensure Yu Huatian was still behind him, Zhu Yu, now emboldened, could no longer suppress his curiosity and began to push his way forward.

At last, he squeezed through to the front, only to find at the center of the commotion two burly men bullying a girl who looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen, right in the middle of the street.