Chapter 77: I Have Come to Understand

A Year and a Half Later

This summer, the oppressive heat was almost unbearable. Not a single cloud drifted in the sky, and there wasn’t the faintest whisper of wind. The air grew so thick it seemed as though it might solidify. The blazing sun overhead left all the trees standing listlessly, their vitality sapped. The entire Blood River Tower felt like a kiln, fired through and through, suffocating those inside. Dogs lay sprawled on the ground, tongues lolling crimson, while mules and horses flared their nostrils wide in search of relief.

The birds had all disappeared from the branches, hiding who knows where; the grass and shrubs beneath the trees drooped as if on the verge of death; only the summer cicadas, relentless in their chorus, seemed to wish the heat would grow even more intense.

At noon, most of the people in the Southern Court gathered near the lotus pond, and naturally, Su Bai and Gu Fanshuang were among them.

The two sat quietly beneath a willow, watching the lotus blossoms and the schools of koi waiting eagerly to be fed. Su Bai and Gu Fanshuang laughed and chatted together; with the coming trial looming ahead, they were already prepared. Half a month ago, Su Bai had stabilized his Heartguard stage, his external skills reaching the bottleneck of that realm. Though he was only at the first level of Heartguard, under the tutelage of Azure Dragon, his strength was now incomparable to before.

Gifted with both insight and talent, and with Gu Fanshuang’s companionship, he trained tirelessly, pushing himself every day to exhaustion. This month was the first time the two had seen each other in a while, and he had temporarily reached a plateau, unable to make further progress.

Azure Dragon had advised him not to force his way through the barrier by sheer determination, but that he needed further tempering of his heart and mind. Su Bai knew he could not advance further before the trial, so he decided to spend more time with Gu Fanshuang. He also took the opportunity to review what he had learned before and to help guide Gu Fanshuang toward reaching the fourth level of Bone Refinement as soon as possible.

Though the two of them were the strongest among all the groups, the memory of their previous failure left them uneasy. Azure Dragon, for his part, did not reveal the content of the upcoming trial to Su Bai, which only added to his frustration.

Naturally, Azure Dragon had not told Su Bai about the connection between Blood River Tower and the Six Doors, nor had he revealed his own identity. He merely guided Su Bai in martial arts from the shadows, offering occasional help.

Casting a handful of fish food into the water, Su Bai turned to Gu Fanshuang with a genuine smile. The days spent together had been peaceful and comforting, a balm against the relentless pressure of his training.

He took her delicate hand and gently caressed it, looking into her eyes.

Gu Fanshuang, less thick-skinned than Su Bai, instantly tried to pull her hand away, but the old rascal only gripped it tighter.

Blushing furiously, Gu Fanshuang managed to stammer, “Aren’t you afraid of what people will say?”

Su Bai, instead of backing down, grew even more spirited. “I’m simply strengthening the bond with a good friend. Why should anyone gossip?”

His upright expression made Gu Fanshuang burst out laughing. “You… You really are… Why are you so bad?”

At this, Su Bai released her hand at once, stood up with mock solemnity, and said, “Hey! Young lady, mind your words. I’ve done nothing improper to you. Don’t go around making accusations, or I might sue you for slander!”

“You’re acting like a fool,” Gu Fanshuang laughed until she could barely breathe. When she first met Su Bai, he’d been a cautious, aloof youth; after all this time, he seemed to have grown even more silly, not less.

“I’ve warned you repeatedly, yet you refuse to amend your ways, and now you insult me so! How it pains my heart!” Su Bai clutched his chest in a dramatic show of suffering.

“Oh, enough already,” Gu Fanshuang stood and, as if soothing a child, hugged Su Bai. “Fine, fine, it’s all my fault.”

“Now that’s more like it.”

“…?”

……

Meanwhile, in the council hall of the Northern Court, the ten elders and the sect leader and his deputy gathered around a round table in deliberation.

Azure Dragon, wearing his signature demon mask, looked at the assembled elders and said, “There’s only one month left before the final trial for the Southern Court.”

The sect leader arched an eyebrow and asked softly, “Does Lord Azure Dragon have any instructions?”

Azure Dragon waved a hand, his tone softening. “Instructions is too strong a word, sect leader. I am but a nominal deputy lord. The smooth operation of Blood River Tower depends on you and the elders.”

The sect leader offered a slight bow, his voice respectful. “You are our superior; we naturally follow your lead. The additional task you assigned last time, we all fulfilled. This time, too, it should be you who leads.”

Azure Dragon sneered inwardly. “These old foxes! If the Six Doors didn’t still have use for you, you’d have been dealt with long ago.” Outwardly, he demurred, “Sect leader, you flatter me. I am only acting under the Chief Constable’s orders. If I am interfering, please say so, and I will amend my conduct.”

At the mention of the Chief Constable, the elders’ expressions changed, even the sect leader’s gaze softened. To them, the Six Doors was always their superior. Blood River Tower’s rapid rise in the martial world was entirely due to the secret support of the Six Doors.

Azure Dragon was the representative of Chu Shanhe, and Chu Shanhe represented the Six Doors. They could complain quietly, but would never dare to suppress Azure Dragon openly.

Sensing the growing tension, the eldest and most senior elder broke the silence. “Let us first discuss how to conduct the Southern Court’s final assessment.”

“Yes, let us begin,” the other elders quickly agreed.

“Let’s proceed as usual,” the sect leader said. “Each person votes on their preferred method.”

Each began to write their ideas for the assessment on slips of paper, which were then collected and handed to Azure Dragon. The sect leader, deputy, and elders discussed and debated the options, then delivered the result to Chu Shanhe for final approval.

……

After hours of discussion, the final assessment was decided.

Azure Dragon took the results and left the council hall. As for his destination, there was no need to guess—he was headed for Chu Shanhe’s Seven Sorrows Hall.

Yet, while things proceeded in an orderly fashion there, the northern military camp was in uproar.

A tall man, clad in black armor, grabbed Yang Tingyu by the collar and slammed him against the wall, shouting, “What the hell did you just say?!”

Yang Tingyu did not resist, simply accepting the blow. Yu Wenqi could bear it no longer; he slapped the table and stood, shouting, “Wu Jian! Let him go! Tingyu has always been sharp—at least hear him out first.”

“Sharp, my ass!” Wu Jian’s grip did not loosen. He glared at Yang Tingyu and roared, “You’ve served Second Master for years—was it all for nothing? What you’re proposing will kill the people of Jizhou and Bingzhou—do you understand?!”

His anger grew with every word, especially at Yang Tingyu’s stubborn, impassive face. With a snarl, he threw him onto the table, which shattered beneath the impact. Yang Tingyu lay motionless, his expression unchanged.

Fortunately, their secret discussions always took place in this underground chamber, away from prying ears.

Wu Jian, infuriated by Yang Tingyu’s indifference, pointed at him and cursed, “You worthless wretch! Second Master trained you to take his place, and this is how you repay his dying trust?”

He reached for his sword, ready to cut Yang Tingyu down.

Yu Wenqi, alarmed, seized Wu Jian’s arm and pleaded with Yang Tingyu, “Tingyu, just admit you were wrong!”

At last, Yang Tingyu stood, brushed the dust from his clothes, and bowed deeply to them both.

“Humph!” Wu Jian snorted. “Don’t put on a show for me. I won’t let you off so lightly.”

“I cannot ask for forgiveness, only that you help me accomplish this task,” Yang Tingyu said calmly.

“I’ll kill you!” Wu Jian shouted, shoving Yu Wenqi aside and raising his sword over Yang Tingyu’s head. The blade whistled through the air, but Yang Tingyu stood his ground.

The sword halted three inches from his head, the force of its passage shearing off several locks of hair, which drifted to the floor.

Yang Tingyu did not flinch, his gaze sincere.

Wu Jian sheathed the sword, pointing at Yang Tingyu. “I’ll give you one chance. If you can’t explain yourself in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, my sword won’t recognize you as a brother.”

“Hurry up, he’s giving you a chance!” Yu Wenqi urged.

“Our northern border has long faced the Mongol and Red Gold Khanates, with over half a million soldiers under our command. When the Marshal ordered me to surrender, it was not merely to avoid civil war, but because we were then beset by the united forces of three nations. Only the Marshal’s swift action made the northern khanates abandon their plans to invade. The Ming Dynasty needed time to recover and rebuild. That’s why the Marshal told me not to let his death bring ruin to our country.”

“You know the Marshal’s wishes, so why do this now?” Wu Jian’s hand trembled as he set down his tea.

Yang Tingyu did not answer directly. “After our surrender, the court sought to weaken us, but the north still relied on us for defense. The emperor sent only a few generals and a figurehead marshal, knowing our soldiers would never obey such men.”

“I know that, but what does it have to do with your plan?” Wu Jian was growing impatient.

“Our pay grows less each year—this is our lifeblood. Without it, how can we fight the enemy?” Yang Tingyu asked.

Wu Jian hung his head; he knew all too well. He had sent countless petitions to the capital, but each time, the answer was not overdue wages, but secret preparations for rebellion. He realized the pay would never return.

“Do you know where our salaries have gone?” Yang Tingyu pressed.

Wu Jian shook his head.

“They’ve gone into the coffers of the Northwestern Army,” Yang Tingyu explained, pointing to the map. “The old emperor ordered Du Qing to use the money to raise troops, so he could replace us on the northwest frontier. When we are sent west, we’ll face Wei; Wei is so riven with internal strife they won’t bother with us. That’s when the emperor will begin disbanding our army. Our forces will be broken up, and all our efforts to preserve the Su family’s strength will be in vain. The Marshal must not die in vain!”

Wu Jian and Yu Wenqi fell into a heavy silence.

After a long while, Yu Wenqi asked, “Have you found the young master?”

“I had a rough idea years ago. A letter a few months ago confirmed his location.”

“Where is he?” Wu Jian sprang to his feet, striding over to grip Yang Tingyu by the shoulders. “Where?”

“I can’t tell you yet. But I’ve never lied to you. Please trust me,” Yang Tingyu replied, his final words also asking for Wu Jian’s consent.

Wu Jian understood. He released his grip and walked away. At the stairs, he turned and said, “I don’t agree with this. You and Yu Wenqi do as you see fit. Don’t come to me again.”

Though he said he did not agree, in truth he was giving Yang Tingyu his tacit support, promising to bear the pressure from the court. His refusal was more about disappointment than opposition.

Yang Tingyu closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Big brother is always like this—sharp words, soft heart. After all these years, you still don’t understand him?” Yu Wenqi came over, gently patting Yang Tingyu’s shoulder with a sigh. “Second Master told us to follow your lead; it’s a mark of trust. We’ll fully support your actions.”

Yu Wenqi paused, hesitant. Yang Tingyu wiped his tears and said, “Speak your mind, brother.”

“Forgive my bluntness, but is this truly worth it?” Yu Wenqi cut him off before he could reply. “I know I can’t out-argue you. I just want you to ask yourself—if the Marshal were still here, would he sacrifice the lives of two provinces for the Su family’s name? Yes, the Su family was wiped out overnight, and Su Ming became a traitor. But the Marshal led us through war for the glory of Ming—was it for fame? If so, why did he offer himself to the tiger rather than raise his blade against it?”

He patted Yang Tingyu’s shoulder again. “Think it over. Give me your answer in the morning. If you insist, I’ll support you.”

With that, Yu Wenqi left, and only when the door slammed shut did Yang Tingyu slowly sit down.

He picked up his cup, but his hand shook uncontrollably.

“What am I doing this for?” Yang Tingyu roared, hurling the cup at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

He broke down, sobbing. “What am I doing this for?”

He remembered the look Su Bai had given him before leaving. “Marshal, Second Master, tell me, am I doing the right thing? The young master can’t bear this burden yet; I can only protect what he’ll need to one day face the court. But now both of you are so disappointed in me—what should I do? Should I stay true to my beliefs or abandon your trust?”

……

The next morning.

Yu Wenqi arrived at the underground entrance, hand reaching for the cover—when suddenly a hand pushed it open.

“Tingyu! What… what’s happened to you?” Yu Wenqi stared, shocked, at the haggard, gray-haired, bloodshot-eyed Yang Tingyu.

Yang Tingyu opened his mouth and said, “Brother, I’ve made up my mind.”