Chapter 90: A Blessing in Disguise

A voice came resolutely from within the jade talisman, edged with the tone of command. Though no one could see the person on the other end, everyone knew that in this vast city of Chang’an, only two people could give orders to Wei Tun Yun. One was the reigning Son of Heaven, the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty. The other was the Minister of the Yin-Yang Office, Tan Zongxiao. This man was, in truth, the real leader of the Divine Shrine. Yet none could fathom why, at such a critical moment, Tan Zongxiao would summon Wei Tun Yun back—and, moreover, declare outright that no killing was permitted.

Wei Tun Yun, so close to his goal, was naturally unwilling to concede. Yet the urgency from the other side of the talisman left him with no choice. He sheathed his sword, cast a venomous glare at Lu Xin, and, with a leap, vanished over the wall with the rest of the Divine Shrine’s retinue. As he departed, the barrier enveloping the Prefectural Office dissipated, its magic fading with his absence.

Knock, knock, knock!

At last, sounds came from the main gate—Wei Qing and Li Lingyu were still pounding on the doors, their faces dark with worry and impatience. Having failed to force their way in, Wei Qing finally landed a punch squarely on the door, which, with a creak, swung open.

Crossing the threshold, they found Yang Xiu collapsed in Lu Xin’s arms, unconscious. Yang Qin was sobbing bitterly at the side. Not far off, Yue Buhei, restored to human form, was likewise fainted, while Tu Chengli was carefully helping him up. In just a few minutes, this once hale and whole group now lay battered or insensible—save for the scholar, nearly all had hovered at death’s door.

Wei Qing took a deep breath, eyes flashing with mingled shock and rage. He well knew who was responsible for this, and guilt gnawed at him. Without delay, he rushed to Lu Xin’s side and pressed his fingers to Yang Xiu’s wrist.

“How is she?”

Blood still marred the corner of Lu Xin’s mouth; he could not even stand. Yet all his thoughts were with the girl in his arms. Should any harm befall Yang Xiu, he would feel remorse for a lifetime.

Wei Qing frowned, checking her pulse. After several breaths, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Her heart’s meridian is wounded—she’s fainted from an internal shock. But her life is not in danger. I know Imperial Physician Zhang from the palace. If we take her to my residence for treatment, she should wake in a day or two.”

“Thank you, Brother Wei. There’s another as well—might I trouble you to look after him too?” Lu Xin gestured to Yue Buhei, his voice weak, his face deathly pale. Wei Qing nodded, about to help with Yang Xiu, when Li Lingyu tugged at his sleeve.

“Brother Wei, you and Lord Wei Zheng are always busy with affairs of state. You won’t have time to tend her. Besides, she’s a young lady—it wouldn’t be proper for her to stay at your house. I think it’s best to bring her to the Prince of Hejian’s residence for treatment.”

Her words caught everyone by surprise. Wei Qing hesitated, then nodded. But he did not decide on his own; he looked to Lu Xin and Yang Qin.

“Brother Lu, what do you think?”

“So long as Miss Yang Xiu is saved, I have no objection. Best let Yang Qin decide.” Lu Xin shook his head and turned to Yang Qin. Seeing her nod silent approval, he said no more and motioned to the scholar to carry Yue Buhei out. The group left through the main gate into the bustling, noisy street—where passersby flowed by, oblivious to the fierce battle that had just raged in the imposing Prefectural Office of Yongzhou.

Li Lingyu’s residence was the Prince of Hejian’s mansion, situated in Yongfu Ward beside the imperial palace—a district reserved for the estates of Tang’s princes, adjacent to the Tonghua and Yanzheng Gates, and connected to Taiji Palace. Like Yining Ward, where the Court of Judicial Review stood, Yongfu Ward belonged to the imperial inner city, off-limits to common folk.

Yongfu Ward lay in the northeast corner of Chang’an, far from the Prefectural Office. With only one carriage, Wei Qing decided Li Lingyu would escort the Yang sisters to the Prince’s mansion, while he and Lu Xin would take Yue Buhei and the scholar to the Qian residence nearby.

Yet as Li Lingyu departed, Lu Xin, turning his head, caught sight of a figure—and nearly burst into tears.

“Master!” The youth called softly, eyes brimming with complex emotion, his heart a tumult. On his first night in Chang’an, Li Chunfeng had vanished into seclusion, absent for five days, during which Lu Xin had faced death and despair countless times. Now, seeing his master among the crowd ahead, his long-aching heart finally settled.

Wei Qing and the scholar followed Lu Xin’s gaze to see a green-robed man standing in the street’s center, smiling benevolently, his presence gentle as a spring breeze. Though throngs passed by, none could overshadow the aura he emanated—an aura he seemed to radiate deliberately.

The three hurried over with the unconscious Yue Buhei. Li Chunfeng merely smiled at Lu Xin, then placed his palm on Yue Buhei’s forehead. After two breaths, Yue Buhei shuddered and abruptly awoke, his color restored. He spun in place, fully recovered, as if never injured.

“What’s this? Fox, damn you, weren’t you hurt?” The scholar, both startled and delighted, punched Yue Buhei’s chest—eliciting no reaction, as if he’d only tickled him. Instantly, Yue Buhei bowed to Li Chunfeng in gratitude.

“Thank you, senior.”

“No need. I should thank you for protecting my disciple. Demon fox, this elixir will fully mask your demonic aura. Swallow it and refine it through nine cycles—you’ll be safe even if you meet that man again.”

With a wave, Li Chunfeng conjured a pill. Without hesitation, Yue Buhei took it, ignoring the scholar’s attempt to stop him.

“Damn fox, why do you eat everything?”

“It’s fine. Master Xin’s teacher would never harm me. Otherwise, we’d all be dead by Wei Tun Yun’s hand.”

Yue Buhei’s gaze, sharp as a blade, fixed on the green-robed man, his astonishment undisguised. Clearly, he had sensed Li Chunfeng’s cultivation; proud as he was, he showed no disrespect. Even Tu Chengli’s expression changed at the sight.

“Xin, is he truly your master?”

Lu Xin nodded, his eyes never leaving Li Chunfeng since his arrival.

“Master, just now the Divine Shrine withdrew—was it because of you? It’s all my fault for not heeding your teachings, leaving the Qian residence, and nearly getting my friends killed.” Before departing, Li Chunfeng had warned of Chang’an’s unrest, urging Lu Xin to stay put. But Lu Xin, desperate to find Lu Tingfang, nearly caused disaster. Remorse now filled his heart—for had he stayed, these trials might never have befallen them.

“It’s all right, you were not at fault. I misjudged things. This is not the place to talk—let’s return to the Qian residence,” Li Chunfeng said, offering neither rebuke nor blame as he saw Lu Xin’s contrition. The five hurried to Huaiyuan Ward, reaching the Qian residence within a quarter of an hour. Only after settling in the east wing did they breathe a collective sigh of relief.

The scenes at the Prefectural Office still haunted their minds. Wei Tun Yun’s power, even here at the Qian residence, continued to fill Lu Xin with dread—not for his own sake, but for fear that his friends, the scholar and Yue Buhei, might come to harm. At the moment Yang Xiu collapsed into his arms, his heart had ached as never before.

“Senior, if I’m not mistaken, when Wei Tun Yun shut the office gates, you were already there, weren’t you?” After a pause, Yue Buhei set down his cup and addressed Li Chunfeng. Lu Xin’s face changed at these words—if true, had his master deliberately left them in peril?

Li Chunfeng seemed to sense his disciple’s doubt. He sipped his tea and smiled. “Indeed, I was there long before. In fact, from the moment you stepped into the Prefectural Office, I waited outside. Fortunately, Wei Zheng appeared in time, prompting the three officials to make the right choice. Otherwise, I would have had to offend the entire Tang court.”

Though Li Chunfeng’s tone was calm, even cheerful, his words made everyone’s heart skip a beat. Especially Wei Qing, who suddenly sensed an overwhelming murderous intent, soaring and enveloping all of Chang’an, chilling him to the bone. This man was not jesting.

Li Chunfeng’s meaning was clear: had the case not turned, and Lu Xin still been condemned, he would have stormed the Prefectural Office to save his disciple, no matter the cost—even defying the entire Tang Dynasty. Though not a practitioner himself, Wei Qing could see, from Wei Tun Yun’s hasty retreat, what power this man possessed. Yet a forced entry into the Prefectural Office—seat of the emperor’s will—was tantamount to rebellion, a line not even the great sects of the martial world dared cross!

“Master!” Lu Xin, his doubts dispelled by Li Chunfeng’s words, felt his eyes redden. So he had never been alone—his master had watched over him all along.

“Hahaha, enough now. In truth, I didn’t show myself immediately for two reasons. First, I wanted to observe the court of Tang—if corrupt officials prevailed and the emperor lacked virtue, there’d be no point in protecting it. Second, in our path of cultivation, countless trials await. Some tribulations, if I shield you from them, will only do you harm. Had Wei Tun Yun not pushed you to the brink, how would you have broken through? My child, this world is a tapestry of wonders and perils. As the saying goes—‘the old man on the frontier lost his horse; who’s to say it wasn’t a blessing in disguise?’ Some roads, a master can lead you down, but some tribulations, you must face alone.”