The monk whom Zhao Rong could not drive away was cursed off by Wang Yu.
Wei Gutong and Yan Ziyu had once again witnessed Wang Yu's arrogant and domineering side. Yet they felt no aversion; if anything, they considered this temperament—gentle as a spring breeze toward his own people and merciless toward enemies—an indispensable quality for a ruler.
If a person in power were courteous even to their enemies, how could they ever rally hearts to their cause?
Though Wei Gutong was merely a wandering martial artist, he understood this much.
Yan Ziyu shook her head with a sigh. "In our travels across the pugilistic world, my husband and I had always thought that the people living under Great Vajra Monastery's rule enjoyed peace, stable livelihoods, and happiness. Who would have thought it falls so far behind the prince's farming manors?"
Wei Gutong shook his head and offered a fair assessment. "Without the comparison to the prince's manor, Great Vajra Monastery actually isn't bad. At the very least, they have not driven tenant farmers into vagrancy, nor forced anyone to sell their sons and daughters."
At this point, Wei Gutong cupped his hands. "Your Highness is truly compassionate!"
Wang Yu waved a hand and laughed heartily. "Senior flatters me. What compassion? I'm simply better at arithmetic than those monks in Great Vajra Monastery. The people's output is worth far more than what it costs to support their labor."
Li Yunxiu remarked mildly, "It is not that they cannot do arithmetic; they are simply too greedy."
Qianqian chimed in slyly, "Doesn't that break the precept against greed? How can they still call themselves eminent monks?"
Wei Gutong fell silent. Truth be told, the couple had once visited Great Vajra Monastery to discuss Buddhist doctrine with the monks, finding them humble, open-minded, and profound in their teachings. Yet when looking at how they fleeced the people under their jurisdiction, they fell short even compared to Wang Yu, who was infamous far and wide for his arrogance.
Compared to others, they were naturally eminent monks, but once Wang Yu was brought into the picture, then just as Zhao Yingjie had said earlier, the prince could practically become a Buddha.
"Just a minor interlude! Come, let's keep eating!" Wang Yu ushered everyone back to the reception hall.
That night, Wang Yu took another Snow Lotus Yellow Dragon Pill.
Sun Wenzhu had stated that the Snow Lotus Yellow Dragon Pill possessed immense potency that was released steadily over time, along with pill toxicity, advising Wang Yu to take only one a year.
Unfortunately, he did not know Wang Yu had a cheat.
Although the transformation wrought upon Wang Yu after the tortoise shell absorbed the pill's energy was indeed calibrated to his condition, having its limits and requiring stabilization—which prevented him from taking pills continuously—it certainly did not require an entire year.
Twenty days was plenty.
Sensing the faint feedback pulsing from the tortoise shell, Wang Yu knew he was ready to ingest another pill, so down went a second one.
Widening meridians, enhancing talent, cleansing marrow and altering sinews...
Flowing Fire Reflection, Flowing Springs of the Icy Mountain, Ice and Snow Divine Art, Ice and Fire Dual Heavens—each martial art, perfected long ago, circulated smoothly as his aptitude improved. His internal energy grew ever more powerful, his accumulation steadily deepening...
Soon, the enhancement of his innate potential reached its limit, yet residual medicinal power remained. With a flick of his mind, rather than studying the Seventy-Two Forms of Wind and Snow, Wang Yu instead began channeling the Star-Plucking Hand and Star-Chasing Steps.
His Seven Forms of the Setting Sun was already quite formidable, so the Seventy-Two Forms of Wind and Snow was not an immediate necessity. Movement techniques, however, could never be too high, and he was also lacking in empty-handed combat skills.
After all, look at his clumsy handling last time: he could not even restrain Meng Zixiao securely, allowing the man to stall for a few words before bursting his acupoints open.
In the next instant, Wang Yu's figure blurred as he darted and shifted through the chamber. With every reach of his hands, afterimages wove through the air, and he quickly grasped the profound subtleties of both arts.
With the Star-Plucking Hand, every strike carried an enticing, tractional force. As the saying went: pluck the stars with a single hand, making the heavy seem light. Once an opponent entered the circular radius of his palms, they were like a celestial star—no matter how immense their force or swift their flight, they could not escape being plucked.
The Star-Chasing Steps, on the other hand, excelled at bizarre agility and blinding speed. Swift as a shooting star, it seemed devoid of any preparatory wind-up; once unleashed, it passed like a white colt leaping across a crevice, gone in an instant. This held true whether applied as body movements, leg techniques, or footwork.
Hence the verse of praise: "A single hand plucks the stars to steady sun and moon; eight steps chase the light to anchor the celestial sphere."
"Damn it all, there really was a trap!"
As Wang Yu experienced the two martial arts refined by the tortoise shell and compared them with the manuals he had received and initially practiced, he discovered that not only had numerous details been altered, but the circulation methods in certain places were complete opposites.
By now, he possessed sufficient martial insight to see that if someone truly practiced according to the original text, nothing seemed amiss in the early stages, save for the power being diminished by perhaps thirty percent.
However, if one pushed to compensate for the lost power through relentless, grueling practice, it would trigger hidden internal injuries. These hidden wounds would accumulate until they became incurable, ultimately severing the meridians in the legs and hands and rendering the practitioner a cripple.
Wang Yu did not believe Meng Zixiao and Zhao Guizhou had the skill to modify these two arts without leaving a trace. This had to be a scheme concocted by those two—Heaven's Cripple and Earth's Flaw—to lure him into a trap.
It made sense when he thought about it. In their eyes, since Zhao Zheng had stolen All Streams Returning to the Source, he would surely pass it down to his son, as it was visibly superior to Flowing Fire Reflection.
And if Wang Yu learned All Streams Returning to the Source, he would never be able to resist practicing Star-Plucking Hand and Star-Chasing Steps—the two martial arts most compatible with it—once he laid eyes on them.
Then he would be crippled. And once he was ruined, wouldn't they be free to manipulate and torment him however they pleased?
It was even possible those two old eccentrics had plotted against Zhao Rong as well, since they couldn't be sure whether Zhao Zheng had shared the manual with him.
Little did they expect that their disciples would fail to follow the script, and that Wang Yu possessed his tortoise shell cheat. In the end, they suffered a double defeat: not only did they lose their lives, but they also delivered the two martial arts right into his hands.
Even without All Streams Returning to the Source, with the tortoise shell's adjustments, Wang Yu could execute the two techniques without the slightest hindrance, wielding even greater power than Meng Zixiao and Zhao Guizhou ever had.
With the pill's power spent, though he had not mastered the two arts to perfection, they were more than sufficient for handling sudden combat and self-defense.
"All done! Time to sleep!"
Wei Gutong and Yan Ziyu accepted Wang Yu's invitation and stayed at the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor. After the new year, they would attend Zhao Yingjie and Yuan Feifei's wedding as members of the bride's family.
The couple also met Yan Xiangxue at the manor, treating her with the deference due to a senior.
Each day, Wang Yu practiced the Ice and Snow Divine Art and the Seventy-Two Forms of Wind and Snow under Yan Xiangxue's guidance in the mornings, and spent the afternoons with the women—feasting, amusing themselves, or sightseeing.
Unfortunately, Longshan Prefecture was bitterly cold in winter, offering little amusement. With Li Yunxiu busy handling administrative affairs and Zhao Yingjie occupied with Trade Bureau business, Qianqian pulled Wang Yu, Ardai, and Yuan Feifei into playing leaf cards.
Wang Yu picked up the game after a few rounds, but found it rather dull and lacking in variety. Thereupon, he promptly summoned craftsmen to bake and fire the "national quintessence"—mahjong tiles.
"East Wind!"
"Four of Bamboo!"
...
"Eight of Characters!"
"Pong!"
"Kong!"
"Self-drawn pure suit!"
Wang Yu stared at the tiles laid out before Qianqian—a flawless pure suit of bamboo, the kind of hand he had only ever seen in mobile games. "Did you cheat?" he asked in disbelief.
Qianqian glared back at him. Dropping every trace of her timid facade, she replied with charming feistiness, "I did not!"
Ardai and Yuan Feifei giggled beside them. Qianqian had just lost ten consecutive hands, and in the previous round, Wang Yu had snatched her winning tile right before her eyes, infuriating her to the verge of flipping the table.
"Again!" Wang Yu shelled out the money.
"Again it is!" Qianqian swept up the coins without hesitation, shoved the tiles into the center, and began shuffling enthusiastically.
Ardai and Yuan Feifei eagerly joined in, finding mahjong far more entertaining than leaf cards.
After that self-drawn pure suit, Qianqian's luck truly took a turn for the better. Calling kongs and winning hands back-to-back, she won back everything she had lost.
In the next round, as Qianqian arranged her tiles, she saw the potential for another self-drawn pure suit, and her eyes lit up.
Just then, Zhao Yingjie suddenly pushed open the door and rushed in. "Brother Yu, something happened!"
Qianqian declared imperiously, "No matter what happened, we're finishing this hand first!"
Li Yunxiu appeared in the doorway. "The Loulan treasure dispatched to the capital has been stolen!"
Wang Yu's gaze tightened. "Weren't there three hundred soldiers of the Xionglue Army escorting it?"
Zhao Yingjie said, "They were drugged with knockout powder and didn't wake until the following morning. Thankfully, there were no casualties."
Wang Yu breathed a sigh of relief. He immediately knocked over his wall of tiles, rose with a serious expression, and asked, "Explain in detail. What exactly happened?"
Qianqian glared indignantly at Wang Yu. Did he have any idea how precious a self-drawn pure suit was?!
Yet official matters came first. Qianqian pushed her tiles down as well, looking at Zhao Yingjie with curiosity.
Zhao Yingjie explained, "Eight days ago, we dispatched three hundred Xionglue soldiers to escort the treasure to the capital. According to the itinerary, they should have arrived before the new year as a New Year's gift for the emperor. At the same time, notices were sent to every prefecture along the way and to the capital. Each local government was responsible for providing food and quarters, with their local militia providing perimeter support.
"The day before yesterday, they entered Daxing Prefecture and made camp outside Pingxing County. The local magistrate's office sent over food and drink. Centurion Zhang had the three hundred men eat in shifts as per protocol. Nothing seemed amiss at the time, but after night fell, everyone lapsed into an unconscious stupor and didn't wake until the Hour of the Dragon yesterday, when the local militia shook them awake."
"And then they discovered that all the treasure had vanished," Zhao Yingjie continued. "They immediately notified the Prefect of Daxing, requesting that Daxing dispatch troops to search in all directions, and sent an express rider back to report to the manor. I only just received the word."
Wang Yu asked, "Where are our men now?"
Zhao Yingjie replied, "They have taken control of Pingxing County."
Wang Yu nodded. "Did they discover anything?"
Zhao Yingjie answered, "The cook responsible for brewing their tea was found dead. The dispatch rider was sent out after they had notified the prefect, taken over Pingxing County, and discovered the cook's body. That is all I know for now."
Li Yunxiu added, "The official dispatch from Daxing Prefecture lags a step behind our courier. There is no other news."
Wang Yu smacked his lips, asking somewhat tentatively, "Do many people know that what the Xionglue Army was transporting is the Loulan treasure?"
Zhao Yingjie looked at him helplessly. "The Shuntian Army already transported their share back. The news has spread across the entire pugilistic world."
The news that the Shuntian Army and the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor had joined forces to wipe out a thousand Black Qiang cavalrymen, retrieved the Loulan treasure, and divided it equally—along with the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor's reputation for keeping its word—had long circulated everywhere.
Even if Niu Zilian and the other leaders hadn't divulged it, there were still plenty of ordinary soldiers in the Shuntian Army. Men like that had loose tongues, especially regarding a battle so worthy of bragging about.
Once they returned, they boasted far and wide, and word naturally leaked out that the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor had also obtained a massive portion of the Loulan treasure.
Under such circumstances, when the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor dispatched three hundred soldiers of the Xionglue Army to escort a convoy toward the capital, even a fool would know what was being transported.
Chapter 93