Chapter 20: Do You Want to Be a Princess?

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Step, step…

Footsteps echoed from the gloomy tunnel, and two figures emerged.

Ye Jingtang’s expression remained as calm as ever, though a trace of melancholy lingered between his brows.

Shang Jianli walked without sound, like a ghost drifting before him, his cheeks as cold and detached as always.

“The greatest tragedies in the world are heroes in their twilight and beauties in their waning years. Master Ye, you have yet to reach your prime, so it is natural that seeing such things stirs emotion. But do not dwell on it too heavily. If one were to lay out the lives of all men, every experience would be enough to move you. Compassion should be reserved for those truly deserving of it.”

“Does Master Shang also have a story of his own?”

“There is no one in this world without a story. It is merely a question of scale, whether it is spectacular or mundane.”

“Heh…”

After these brief words, Ye Jingtang took his leave.

He had not traveled far when he saw Wang Chihu running toward him, waving from a distance.

“Brother Ye! The Prince summons you. Come quickly.”

Shang Jianli had not yet departed. Seeing this, he gestured with his hand.

“Master Ye, please.”

Surprised by the summons from Prince Jing, Ye Jingtang straightened his robes and followed Wang Chihu through a small gate beneath the high walls.

A single white wall seemed to divide two different worlds.

Before the wall lay the solemn and stern government offices. Once through the gate, however, the scene opened up into a vibrant landscape of colorful flowers. A covered walkway spanned a verdant lake, leading toward scattered pavilions and towers. Countless young women in colorful silks moved among them, as if one had stepped from the mortal world into a celestial peach orchard in an instant.

Ye Jingtang walked across the bridge, eyes straight ahead, not glancing at the elegantly dressed women of the Prince’s estate.

Alas, he possessed a face that women found all too pleasing. The moment he appeared on the walkway, he felt dozens of gazes cast upon him, and faint whispers reached his ears:

“Whose young master is that?”

“How handsome. Could it be someone the Prince has chosen for…”

“They are a perfect match…”

“If the Prince doesn't like him, couldn't she bestow him upon us?”

“In your dreams…”

The playfulness of the maids suggested that Prince Jing was not a difficult master to serve. Ye Jingtang felt a bit more at ease as he followed Wang Chihu to the base of Mingyu Tower.

The five-story structure was imposing and magnificent up close; standing beneath it, one felt like a mere grain of rice.

A maid awaited them at the entrance. Wang Chihu stopped at the bottom of the steps and gave Ye Jingtang a subtle wink.

“Brother Ye, stand firm on this step, and you could save yourself sixty years of hardship. You must be careful.”

Ye Jingtang could hardly respond to this, so he bowed in thanks, lightly lifted his robes, and climbed the stairs, following the maid into the tower.

The first floor was a spacious hall, but it lacked the usual tables, chairs, or screens. The center was an empty space, roughly six zhang in width and length. The floor was not wood, but a black stone of unknown material, densely covered in fine scratches.

Eight giant pillars stood around the perimeter, and behind them ran a corridor lined with dozens of stands displaying blades, spears, swords, and halberds.

In the Great Liang, martial spirit was robust. Whether man or woman, noble or commoner, everyone studied some form of combat. It was no surprise that a female Prince would keep such armaments in her home.

Ye Jingtang had paid little attention at first, merely following the pretty maid who kept glancing back at him. However, when he reached one of the stands, he stopped.

On a redwood stand lay a long spear. The shaft was made of an unknown material, dark blue-green, with a luster like jade.

The spearhead was a foot and a half long, black as a mirror, emitting a chilling, ghostly radiance in the light; the ferrule was the same.

The weapon bore no inscriptions or patterns, yet to the eyes of a martial artist, it was like a stunning beauty laid bare.

Most significantly, a wooden plaque beneath the stand bore the name:

*Dragon Cry*

After learning of the *Dragon Cry Scroll* from his foster father, Ye Jingtang had once inquired about the origins of this legendary manual. It was said that a founding monarch had encountered a mysterious sage in times of chaos, obtained the book, reached the pinnacle of martial arts, and unified the world. In his old age, he had ridden a dragon to immortality. Hence, the manual came to be known as the *Dragon Cry Scroll*.

The spear used by that monarch during his conquest was also dubbed "Dragon Cry." It was ranked first among the ten great spears, kept as a private treasure by emperors through the ages, and had never appeared in the martial world.

As a martial artist, catching sight of this "legendary-tier" equipment, Ye Jingtang could not help but linger to verify its authenticity.

Perhaps he was too absorbed in his observation, for a voice suddenly sounded in his ear:

“Do you like it?”

The voice was clear and cold, carrying an undeniable authority. Hearing it was enough to conjure an image of someone who commanded respect without needing to raise their voice.

Yet, this voice belonged to a woman.

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Luo Ning’s mature voice was light and ethereal with a hint of charm, sounding like a worldly, seasoned swordswoman.

But this voice was high and mighty, unyielding, with the air of a domineering female executive.

Ye Jingtang had heard no footsteps. Startled, he turned to look—a woman now stood in front of the leading maid.

She wore a jade crown, a silver-white python robe, and a belt of gold-encrusted jade from which hung a green dragon pendant.

The style was clearly masculine but tailored to be form-fitting. The waist was cinched tight, and the chest was full, stretching the fabric so that even the five-clawed golden python on her chest looked like a "chubby-headed dragon."

She was tall, her eyes level with Ye Jingtang’s—a rare height for a woman.

Yet, her figure was perfectly proportioned, a classic nine-headed stature with long limbs and a waist that was slender where it should be and voluptuous where it mattered.

As for her appearance, her features were sharp, her skin white as mutton-fat jade, her brows like willow leaves. Beneath her high nose, her lips were painted a striking, vivid red—dazzling, yet not the least bit seductive. Her beauty was upright and grand; to call her "beautiful" felt too soft. "Handsome" was the more fitting term.

Ye Jingtang was truly surprised to encounter such a striking beauty with bright red lips, but he remained composed and bowed.

“I am Ye Jingtang. Greetings, Your Highness Prince Jing.”

Dongfang Liren stood quite close, right behind him. Seeing him turn back without any sign of agitation, her gaze was quite approving.

“Calm under pressure, unperturbed by favor or insult. Your mind is good. Rise.”

Ye Jingtang recognized her from the python robe, but he had not expected Prince Jing to be so young. He straightened up, not daring to stare at her face, and looked instead at the *Dragon Cry* spear, answering her previous question.

“I was merely curious and stopped to look. I do not know the spear, so I cannot say I like it.”

Dongfang Liren picked up the spear to examine it.

“The *Dragon Cry* is an antique from hundreds of years ago. No matter how formidable it was back then, after all the slaughter it has seen, it is hardly of great use now, relegated to decoration in the Imperial Palace. This is a replica, though its material is perhaps even finer than the original.”

She held the spear out to him with one hand.

“Want to try it?”

Ye Jingtang did not take it, saying apologetically, “I know no spear techniques. I dare not waste such a treasure. Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

Dongfang Liren retracted the spear, placed it back, and walked along the circular corridor.

“I am fond of martial arts. This tower holds not only the world’s famous weapons but also many manuals passed down through dynasties. Since childhood, I have wanted to ‘gather the strengths of a hundred schools.’ Unfortunately, the people of the martial world are bound by strict rules; they only teach their own disciples and refuse to teach outsiders. They don’t even give me face.”

Ye Jingtang followed, pondering slightly.

“Does Prince Jing wish to learn my blade technique?”

Dongfang Liren paused and turned to look at him.

“You are clever. Are you willing to part with it?”

Ye Jingtang was naturally willing. His goal was to dig up the *Dragon Cry Scroll* in the palace. Compared to the scroll and the connections of the Prince’s estate, what was a blade technique that had already been revealed?

“A blade is only as good as the hand that wields it. The reason true masters fear teaching outsiders is the fear that the student will surpass the teacher. My blade has already been seen; it is no longer a secret weapon. If I teach it to others and they use it better than me, they can defeat me with other moves anyway. If they don’t use it as well as I do, they aren’t worth a single exchange. What harm is there in teaching it to the world?”

Dongfang Liren nodded slightly. “A child worth teaching. Martial Immortal Feng Guancheng welcomes any master who comes to challenge him, fearing only that they won’t understand his craft. Perhaps his mindset is the same as yours. It is a pity that, to this day, no one has been able to stand on equal ground with him. I hope you may one day be the same.”

“Your Highness thinks too highly of me. I have no such ambition; I only have a small, selfish wish. I know only this one blade. If Your Highness likes it, perhaps you could teach me a move or two afterwards…”

Dongfang Liren understood—a trade. She turned back.

“Easily done. The *Dragon-Slaying Order* of Junshan Terrace—do you wish to learn it?”

?

Ye Jingtang was genuinely surprised.

The Blade Chief, Xuan Yuanzhao, was his foster father’s enemy. If he could learn the *Dragon-Slaying Order* and one day use Xuan Yuanzhao’s own techniques to beat him, and teach Junshan Terrace how to use their own *Order*…

How grand that would be.

Thinking of this, Ye Jingtang’s heart skipped a beat, but he said with a hint of embarrassment:

“I only know one blade move. To exchange it for the current Blade Chief’s *Dragon-Slaying Order* seems…”

“You have some self-awareness, at least.”

Dongfang Liren walked to a stand and picked up a beautifully crafted old blade, examining it.

“You only know the opening move; you haven't even formed a school. Exchanging it for the complete *Dragon-Slaying Order* is certainly impossible. You must bring at least one complete, superior martial art for me to teach you.”

Ye Jingtang knew there was no such thing as a free lunch. He sighed helplessly.

“I really only know this one blade. As for the rest, I am still contemplating it. I truly cannot say when I might figure it out.”

“If you wait for yourself to perfect this blade, it will be at least ten years. I have no patience for that.”

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“Then what does Prince Jing suggest?”

Dongfang Liren flicked her finger, and the blade left its scabbard. Near the hilt, the characters "Tianhe" were engraved. It was likely Qiu Tianhe’s personal blade.

“Do you have any interest in the *Tianhe Blade*?”

“…”

Seeing the blade, Ye Jingtang understood the Prince’s intention—she wanted to learn the *Tianhe Blade*, but Qiu Tianhe would never teach her, so she wanted to use him to learn it from Qiu.

Ye Jingtang had heard of the past between Qiu Tianhe and his foster father. He couldn't judge his father’s right or wrong, but he saw no fault in Qiu Tianhe’s actions. If there was a chance to help him out legitimately, he would not stand idly by.

After some deliberation, Ye Jingtang shook his head and sighed.

“The *Tianhe Blade* is world-renowned. If there is a chance, I naturally wish to learn it. But Qiu Tianhe is trapped in a dungeon. If I learn his blade, I will owe him a debt. If I know my teacher’s life is in danger and ignore it, I become an ingrate; if I rescue him, Your Highness will likely lock me up as well.”

Dongfang Liren returned the blade to its sheath and placed it back on the stand.

“I saw how you traveled thousands of miles to bring your family wealth to the capital; I know you value loyalty. I would not force you into such a dilemma. Qiu Tianhe was captured, but he hasn't been executed yet. Do you know why?”

Ye Jingtang shook his head.

“In the second year of Chengan, Qiu Tianhe kidnapped the imperial consort candidate, Xuan Yuan Shu Ye. She was the daughter of the Marquis of Junshan and was supposed to be named an Imperial Concubine. Because she was abducted, the marriage envoy had to quickly select a noble’s daughter to enter the palace.”

Dongfang Liren turned around, standing tall and straight.

“That woman entered the palace, won the Emperor’s favor, and gave birth to two princesses. Guess which two?”

“…”

Ye Jingtang looked at the elegant Prince Jing and was quite surprised.

“You are Prince Jing and…”

Dongfang Liren nodded and continued along the corridor.

“Though it was a stroke of fate, Qiu Tianhe can be considered to have ‘contributed to the dragon’s rise.’ I do not kill him, firstly because I want his blade technique; secondly, I find it hard to feel resentment for his ‘treasonous act.’

“If you learn his blade and treat him as a mentor, and are willing to work for me, I can petition the Emperor on your behalf to grant him a pardon. Do not expect him to be completely free, however; while the death sentence can be waived, his crimes cannot go unpunished. Letting him retire in a small courtyard near the Black Yamen is the greatest mercy I can offer.”

Ye Jingtang was silent for a moment.

“What does Prince Jing want me to do?”

“Hmm…”

Dongfang Liren stood still, hands behind her back, and looked over Ye Jingtang’s handsome face and tall, sturdy frame, seemingly lost in thought.

?!

Ye Jingtang stood a little straighter, feeling that this fiery female Prince might mean—*Do you want to be a Prince Consort?*

“Uh…”

“Hmph.”

Dongfang Liren turned away, leaving him with only the back of her head.

“Don’t think too much. I am above all others; I have seen all kinds of talents. A flower-fist and embroidery-leg like you doesn’t catch my eye. I manage the Black Yamen, responsible for hunting down the thugs who run amok in the martial world. What do you think I would have you do?”

Ye Jingtang knew there was no such luck. He laughed sheepishly.

“Understood. The thugs who take lives like grass are to be eliminated by everyone. If I happen to encounter them, even without Your Highness asking, I would act for the sake of the people.”

“Empty words. How can I trust you?”

Dongfang Liren raised her hand slightly. “You dared to take the case of the Wingless Owl, which shows you have confidence. First, let me see your ability.”

*What?*

*I have no confidence at all!*

Ye Jingtang felt a pang of despair. He had only chosen the case of the "earthworm-slicing" thug because it seemed like the least dangerous job to fulfill his duty. He had intended to just do his best and leave it at that.

If he couldn't catch the culprit, his image in Prince Jing’s heart would plummet, and his future opportunity to enter the palace to dig for treasure would be at risk.

He had taken the job himself; he couldn't back out now. He gritted his teeth and said:

“I will do my utmost.”

“Go then. I shall await the good news.”

…

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