The Prince of Yan Is Here

Wang Chong wiped his hands and murmured to himself, "Wen Zhengchun! What a fine name." "Just like Xuan De—a fine dharma name too." "I truly never expected that, once back in Tongzhou, the truth could be uncovered so easily." "Actually, I should have figured it out long ago. The truth of the White Chrysanthemum case—the one thing I could never have imagined was that I would turn out to be the Prince of Yan." "Hmm, I've got it backwards. That I'm the Prince of Yan is easy enough to guess, but that the White Chrysanthemum case was the Wen family framing the Prince of Yan—that's what no one could ever guess." "What I need to do first now isn't to solve the White Chrysanthemum case, but to reclaim the identity of 'Wen Zhengchun' and restore myself as the Prince of Yan." Wang Chong looked at Wen Zhiwei's corpse on the floor. In truth, this matter still raised a great many questions. For instance, had the Prince of Yan actually done anything as a lecher? Surely some of the White Chrysanthemum cases were not his doing—but if he had done nothing at all, why would he be so terrified? Terrified enough to flee Chang'an all the way to Tongzhou? Outside the room, several people asked, "Director Wang, has something happened?" Wang Chong gave a wry chuckle and said, "It got a bit noisy in here. You needn't stay nearby." These young men who had come to join Wang Chong understood at once and all kept their distance. Wang Chong slipped out, found a sack, stuffed Wen Zhiwei's corpse into it, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and headed straight for the Prefectural Office. The highest official of Tongzhou was the Prefect, and right now the "Prince of Yan" and his party were all staying at the Prefectural Office. Everyone who could vouch that he was the Prince of Yan was gathered there. Halfway along, Wang Chong hid the body, then swaggered straight in. Of course the Prefectural Office was no place for ordinary folk to enter, and someone immediately came out to bar his way. Wang Chong didn't stand on ceremony either—with a single parting sweep of both hands, he sent the several servants blocking his path flying. For the sake of keeping his identity "pure," Wang Chong deliberately did not use the Diamond Prajna Palm, using instead the Innate Pure Yang Art. The Wudang Sect's mountain-guarding divine skill was no small thing—subtle and ever-changing, its internal force surging in and out and roaming about with no fixed pattern. In pure power alone, it could be called the finest under heaven. Wang Chong didn't use it much as a rule. First, he was fond of the Diamond Prajna Palm's ferocious output; and second... he wasn't very good at using the Innate Pure Yang Art. But against the mere servants of the Prefectural Office, there had been no need for any exquisite martial arts anyway. In a single breath, Wang Chong fought his way to the third gate of the Prefectural Office, and there at last he met skilled fighters. Four burly men blocked his path. At the sight of Wang Chong, they all showed looks of shock, plainly recognizing this Prince of Yan, yet they did not let him pass because of it. Instead, they shouted together, "Please wait—let us report to the Grand Steward!" Wang Chong drew a deep breath and still struck out with a palm. The four burly men were clearly masters of coordinated attack—in a single instant, eight palms surged in overwhelmingly from all sides, sealing off nearly all of Wang Chong's space. Wang Chong focused and traded a palm strike with one of them, and at once sensed that although this man's skill was considerable, it could not compare with the various powerful foes he had met of late. With a burst of palm force, he sent the burly man flying. The palm forces the other three sent crashing at him—these he ignored entirely, betting that since these men had recognized him, they would absolutely not dare to strike him down. Just as Wang Chong had anticipated, when the other three burly men's palm forces reached his body, they immediately drew them back. Wang Chong seized the momentum and darted forward, unleashing the Wind-Cloud Hundred Styles. By the seventeenth move he struck down another big man, and the remaining two could no longer hold out; in a mere six moves, they too were all sent flying by him. Wang Chong laughed long and loud and passed through the gate, and there he saw a dignified middle-aged man standing in the courtyard, who barked, "Your Highness the Prince of Yan, brawling with servants—what kind of behavior is this?" Wang Chong said with a smile, "Cousin Zhengxi, I'm back." Wen Zhengxi frowned slightly, clearly somewhat caught off guard as well. He did not know why Wang Chong had run off, nor why he had suddenly returned, nor why his martial arts seemed to have risen a notch. He was just about to keep up his scolding and first bring Wang Chong to heel, when Wang Chong raised his qi and shouted in a great voice, "I am the Prince of Yan, Wen Zhengchun! Let everyone in this residence come and pay their respects!" This great shout carried for several li. Never mind the Prefectural Office—even the several nearby streets could hear it. Wen Zhengxi was just about to shout a rebuke when he saw Wang Chong beaming at him, saying, "Cousin Zhengxi has worked hard. Let me share your burdens for you." Wen Zhengxi wanted to stop him now, but it was too late. No one could say how many people throughout the Prefectural Office had heard Wang Chong's great shout, and they all came hurrying over to gather around him. Among the crowd, Wang Chong spotted Qin Han and Fang Jingru at a glance and said with a smile, "Brother Qin, Brother Fang—we meet again." Qin Han and Fang Jingru saw Wang Chong standing at the center, with the Grand Steward of the Prince of Yan's Residence, Wen Zhengxi, right behind him, and both were struck dumb with astonishment. For a moment, neither of them knew what to say. The Prefect of Tongzhou bowed and said with gentle refinement, "Your Highness the Prince of Yan, this place is in chaos. Why not step inside a room to talk?" Wang Chong flicked his sleeve and said, "No need!" "I was wandering the jianghu when I heard that the lecher White Chrysanthemum was running rampant, so I formed the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance, for the sole purpose of hunting this villain down. Now that I've returned to Tongzhou Prefecture, I'll be drinking and making merry with the brothers of the alliance. As for the other great matters, you may discuss them with my cousin." Wang Chong had returned to reclaim his identity. That sort of thing—identity—depended on the recognition of more people. If everyone believed you were a prince, then you were a prince; if everyone believed you were a beggar, then you were a beggar. He had already made use of Wen Zhengxi, and made use of the Prefect of Tongzhou. Next, he needed to make more people "recognize" him and acknowledge his identity as "His Highness the Prince of Yan." Wang Chong pulled Qin Han and Fang Jingru along, and paying no heed to the Prefect of Tongzhou, who still wished to persuade him, nor to the livid-faced Wen Zhengxi, he strode off in triumph. The reason Wen Zhengxi could keep the Prince of Yan under his thumb was that the Prince of Yan had been raised by him from childhood. His literary and martial accomplishments had all been taught by Wen Zhengxi's hand, and his standing was nearly that of half-teacher, half-elder-brother. Although the Prince of Yan, Wen Zhengchun, was later sent into the palace and received the personal instruction of the Heavenly Empress, the foundations had all been laid by Wen Zhengxi himself, and so he obeyed him in everything. The Heavenly Empress had appointed Wen Zhengxi Grand Steward of the Prince of Yan's Residence, in charge of all its affairs, and before the Prince of Yan, Wen Zhengchun, his word was all but absolute. For one thing, Wang Chong was a transmigrator; for another, he had just learned the truth from Wen Zhiwei's own mouth. Why would he care what sort of creature this man was? The reason he hadn't openly fallen out with him in front of everyone was that Wen Zhengxi was still of some use; otherwise, he would long ago have sent him a Nine-Headed Fire Dragon Flash. Qin Han and Fang Jingru wore bitter smiles. The two of them were of extraordinary backgrounds—Qin Han even held an official post—so how could they not know how fiercely the court debated the Prince of Yan's prospects? Each had received his family's warnings, and neither had ever wished to join the Prince of Yan faction, for though the Prince of Yan was the Heavenly Empress's only son, he truly had little chance of ever ascending the throne. This time they had been forcibly conscripted to protect the Prince of Yan, and had tried hard to keep their distance—yet who would have thought that they had long since joined the "Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance"? The unluckiest part was that this Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance had been founded by their own hands! Though the two of them knew the origins of the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance, when the Prince of Yan said he had personally formed it, then the Prince of Yan had personally formed it, and absolutely no one would doubt it. By now, they were already members of the Prince of Yan faction. Qin Han sighed and said, "How would this humble general dare covet the Prince of Yan's merit? I am willing to return the merit for killing White Chrysanthemum to Your Highness." Wang Chong said with a laugh, "Such a trifling bit of merit—I've long had no use for it." Qin Han was instantly left utterly deflated. What Wang Chong said was truly not wrong—he really had no need of such trifling merit. Catching a single lecher—how could that ever be mentioned in the same breath as routing the Yaglakar elite cavalry?