"Miss Li and Miss Qianqian cannot wed you until a year has passed, Young Master. During this period, if they are willing, all the better; if not, it would be improper for you to force them," Zhao Rong advised.
"I know." Wang Yu had already prepared himself mentally.
"However, there are still maidservants in the manor of clean background and delicate beauty. You may indulge as you please, Young Master," Zhao Rong added.
Wang Yu was speechless.
"Of course, our branch of the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor enjoys considerable renown in the martial world. You must not neglect your martial arts, Young Master." Zhao Rong asked, "Before you went to the capital, you were only taught the first three layers of *Flowing Fire Reflection*. Have you mastered them?"
"I have!" Wang Yu answered. "And the Seven Forms of the Setting Sun taught by my father—I am reasonably proficient in them as well."
"Good!" Zhao Rong's eyes flashed, and he raised his right hand high. "A saber! A sword!"
The next instant, two streaks of cold light shot out from beneath the eaves of the main house in the distance. Zhao Rong reached out and snatched them from the air, catching a saber and a sword firmly in his grasp.
With a flick of his wrist, Zhao Rong tossed the longsword to Wang Yu. "Let me see your swordplay."
Wang Yu caught the longsword and opened with the first form of the Setting Sun Sword, Golden Haze, Solitary Shadow. The tip of his blade danced, scattering flecks of rosy light, while a single solitary shadow lanced toward three major acupoints on Zhao Rong's chest.
"Not bad," Zhao Rong praised.
Wang Yu's swordsmanship was steady and nimble, proving that his fundamentals were solid. The thrust aimed at him was swift and accurate, making it clear that Wang Yu had put real effort into his training.
Zhao Rong brought his saber across to parry, and blade met blade.
*Clang!*
At the light ring of metal, Zhao Rong felt Wang Yu's internal qi. It carried a hidden fiery trace; though seemingly modest in force, its reserve was ceaseless—precisely the internal qi of the third layer of *Flowing Fire Reflection*.
Moreover, Zhao Rong faintly sensed that Wang Yu's internal qi was noticeably purer than his own had been when he had attained the third layer years ago.
"Good!" Shifting his saber technique, Zhao Rong blocked Wang Yu's longsword once more. "My adoptive brother has a worthy successor!"
Zhao Rong's martial arts far surpassed Wang Yu's. Deliberately feeding him moves, he allowed Wang Yu to display all seven times seven—forty-nine variations—of the Seven Forms of the Setting Sun from start to finish.
"Let us stop here."
With a flick of his saber, Zhao Rong knocked the longsword aside, feeling both gratified and somewhat regretful. "When you were young, Young Master, you had my brother supervising you in the manor, so your foundation in swordsmanship was solid. But after living in the capital for ten years without an accomplished master to guide you, your execution of the Seven Forms of the Setting Sun still has a few rough edges."
Wang Yu said nothing, quietly settling his internal qi.
Thank heavens. He had managed to reach the third layer of *Flowing Fire Reflection* just before returning to Longshan Prefecture, and because the exchange had been brief, it had not exposed his lack of accumulated internal qi.
"Still, your natural talent is extraordinary, Young Master, not inferior to my adoptive father or brother. As long as you train diligently from now on, you will surely revitalize the manor." Zhao Rong waved his hand and led Wang Yu into the main house.
The main house was the chamber where Zhao Zheng had lived. It had already been tidied up and readied for Wang Yu to move in.
Wang Yu glanced around. It was a typical ancient room: a carved sandalwood alcove bed, a round padauk table with cloud patterns, an agarwood jade folding screen depicting the four seasons, along with desks, chairs, incense burners, palace lanterns, calligraphy scrolls, paintings, and potted landscapes. The curio shelves displayed bronze cauldrons, porcelain vases, and colored glaze cups...
Zhao Rong did not introduce these furnishings. Instead, he led Wang Yu over to the large bed.
First, Zhao Rong fiddled with a hook on the bedpost, then twisted a wooden carving on the railing, and finally struck a corner of the bed's recessed waist panel.
*Click!*
A soft sound came from beneath the bed. Zhao Rong lifted the bedsheet and cotton padding, revealing a hidden compartment beneath the wooden bedboards that held three modestly bound volumes.
"These are the core legacies of the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor: *Flowing Fire Reflection* and the *Fire Cloud Saber Technique*. After creating the *Seven Forms of the Setting Sun*, my brother was quite pleased with it and placed it together with them," Zhao Rong said. "Once you move in, you may study and practice them at any time. If there is anything you do not understand, come and ask me."
Wang Yu casually picked up *Flowing Fire Reflection* and flipped through it, finding all eight layers recorded inside.
"The complete manual is here, but how far one can progress depends entirely on natural aptitude." Zhao Rong sighed. "Before the age of forty, my brother reached the seventh layer and became a Xiantian Grandmaster. Yet I linger at the sixth layer today, with no hope of a breakthrough."
Wang Yu's heart gave a jolt as the realization struck him: Zhao Rong was also a Xiantian expert.
The complete *Flowing Fire Reflection* had eight layers in total. The first five belonged to the Houtian realm; mastering the sixth made one a Xiantian expert, and mastering the seventh earned the title of Xiantian Grandmaster.
"What about mastering the eighth layer?" Wang Yu asked.
"It is said that even the ancestor who created *Flowing Fire Reflection* only attained the realm of Grandmaster. Later generations deduced and conjectured based on their own insights, completing half of the eighth layer, though it may not even be correct." Zhao Rong let out a sigh. "What a pity that my brother—the one with the greatest hope of completing the eighth layer, becoming a Xiantian Great Grandmaster, and rivaling the supreme experts of the realm—met with such misfortune."
Wang Yu nodded and said as if it were only natural, "Understood. I will complete the eighth layer in the future."
Zhao Rong could not help but smile. Saying nothing, he simply closed the hidden compartment.
"The dossiers on the manor's estates, shops, manors, horse farms, and workshops are all kept in the Western Study. There is no rush; tomorrow, after we pay respects to my brother, I will explain them to you at length."
"Very well!"
"For tomorrow's memorial service, General Yang and General Feng are currently guarding the northern line and cannot leave their barracks without orders. The other three generals and Commandant Zhao of the Iron Eagle Cavalry will all return to pay their respects to you."
Wang Yu was struck dumb.
*Didn't I transmigrate into a wuxia world? Why does it feel like I've suddenly been thrown into a historical saga?*
Zhao Rong gave Wang Yu a general overview of the military forces belonging to the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor.
Fifty thousand battle troops and three thousand iron cavalry.
The fifty thousand infantrymen were divided into five armies: two stationed on the northern line, one garrisoned outside Longshan Prefecture to guard the manor, and two resting and training in the south. The fifty thousand troops rotated once a year in a five-year cycle.
The three thousand iron cavalry marched to the front lines in wartime and trained or rested during peace. They moved like the wind across the three prefectures, never hindered by delays.
The commanders of the five armies and the commandant of the Iron Eagle Cavalry had all risen through the ranks. Even the two clansmen of the Zhao family had accumulated military merits, and every one of them possessed formidable martial arts.
Zhao Rong spoke at length until the sun dipped toward the west. Only then did he escort Wang Yu back to Dehe Pavilion, urging him to rest well tonight before taking his leave.
***
"Zhao Zheng died of qi deviation? It was the late emperor's doing?" Li Yunxiu asked in disbelief.
Not long after Wang Yu returned to Dehe Pavilion, Li Yunxiu came to visit. As the princess consort bestowed by imperial decree, no one dared to stop her.
"You didn't know?"
"I did not!"
"The Emperor didn't know either?"
"Of course His Majesty didn't know. Otherwise, he would certainly have told me, and I would have been far better prepared." Li Yunxiu's voice turned grave. "To think you share a blood feud with the imperial family over your father's death. No wonder Zhao Rong was so hostile toward me."
"This concerns the stability of the northwest. For something this monumental, and given that the late emperor didn't die suddenly of a sudden illness, how could he not have told the current emperor?" Wang Yu stared at Li Yunxiu.
Li Yunxiu fell silent, her eyes darting away involuntarily. "...Perhaps it was an oversight. After all, it happened ten years ago, and Zhao Zheng had been fine all that time. Perhaps the late emperor thought his scheme had failed, so he never brought it up."
"Let's hope so." Wang Yu clapped his hands, changing the subject, and said with a grin, "I saved your life again, you know."
"We are grasshoppers tied to the same string, though I must thank your quick wits this time." Li Yunxiu pressed her lips into a smile. "I truly do need to rely on your identity to get things done, and the one who can rule the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor is naturally you. What a pity they don't know that you, too, are the Emperor's man."
Li Yunxiu looked at Wang Yu, worried he might buckle under the pressure of being an undercover agent, and offered comforting words: "I don't need you to alert the enemy. Follow His Majesty's lead in all things; simply aiding us at the critical juncture will be enough to help His Majesty bring peace to the realm."
"Understood. Work hard!" Wang Yu said. "The harder you work, the better the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor will develop, and the greater the aid you can provide the Emperor."
Wang Yu was not in the least concerned about being slaughtered once his usefulness ended, because by then, he might well be peerless under the heavens.
Seeing Wang Yu's encouraging expression, Li Yunxiu's eyes stirred, and she hesitated, wanting to speak.
Right then, Zi Ling's voice came from outside the door. "The Princess Consort and the Prince are conversing. Idle visitors may not enter."
"Oh, but I am hardly an idle visitor," Qianqian's voice chimed outside, soft and languid. "I have come to see Brother Yu and have a chat with him."
"The Prince will not see you!"
"Little sister, you can hardly speak for Brother Yu. Besides, Brother Yu and Sister Li are not yet married; cloistering yourselves in one room is not good for Sister's reputation."
Qianqian's voice was clearly gentle and delicate, yet it possessed a subtle pull that plucked at one's heartstrings.
Wang Yu rubbed his hands together and rose to his feet.
"What are you doing?" Li Yunxiu asked.
"Going to keep Qianqian company and have a chat!" Wang Yu answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "She is the fiancée my old man arranged for me, and she will be an equal consort of the Prince of Zhenxi in the future. We ought to get to know each other."
Li Yunxiu was struck dumb.
Looking at Wang Yu's roguish demeanor, his bright eyes, and his eager anticipation, Li Yunxiu could not tell for the life of her whether he was a brilliant actor or simply playing himself.
*I shouldn't have felt sorry for him just now!* Li Yunxiu spat inwardly. She smoothed down the hem of her skirt and followed Wang Yu out the door as he pushed it open.
"Brother Yu!"
Qianqian had changed into a pleated skirt of moon-white dusted with stars, and her raven hair was simply pinned up with a single jade hairpin, making her appear all the more pure, graceful, and immaculate.
The moment she caught sight of Wang Yu, her eyes lit with a radiant gleam—shy, timid, yet brimming with curious anticipation, along with a trace of delight and affection. Wang Yu had no idea how he managed to read so many layers of emotion from Qianqian's gaze alone.
Multi-angled! Deeply layered!
Wang Yu had never seen anyone in his previous life express such a rich tapestry of emotion through their eyes, not even in movies!
*She's pure green tea! I love it!*
Had it not been for Qianqian's earlier performance, Wang Yu would have been taken in completely. She was an absolute master of the performing arts—the kind who could have blown away any Best Actress winner in his past life!
Thinking of this, Wang Yu could not help but sigh inwardly. She was still too young, after all; during their first meeting, in her haste not to be overshadowed by Li Yunxiu, she had hidden needles in cotton. An ordinary person might not have noticed, but to a discerning eye, she had already given herself away.
"Come! Let us head to the rear garden and have our chat!"
Wang Yu took Qianqian's jade-like hand in his, then sauntered out of Dehe Pavilion, making his way toward the rear garden.
Chapter 16