Wang Chong watched the enemy withdraw, his heart racing with excitement. He circulated his true qi for a long while, recovering about seventy or eighty percent of his strength, then raised his head to the sky and let out a long cry.
The second wave of people had also arrived by then. When they heard their companions recount Wang Chong’s feat, more than a hundred eyewitnesses all said the same thing: “Our Prince of Yan, our Brother Wang Chong, cut down Yaglakar Yehu in just two sword strikes.” The fact that Wang Chong had fought him fiercely for seven or eight exchanges before that was absolutely never mentioned. Everyone felt honored, and hundreds of people shouted together.
Many were still jumping wildly, venting the exhilaration in their hearts. After all, when Wang Chong had led them out to meet the allied forces of the eighteen grassland tribes, many had been stirred up, yet their hearts had still been uneasy. Half of them believed that, as Prince of Yan, Wang Chong would surely not deceive them, and that his past record was formidable. But the other half could not help fearing, for the armies of the great steppe had brought too many painful memories to the people of the Central Plains. At this moment, of course, it was a completely different story.
Everyone was convinced by Wang Chong and believed that this Prince of Yan truly was a once-in-an-era figure.
Wang Chong had already successfully established, in their minds, the image of an invincible commander and the bearing of an overwhelmingly unmatched master.
Half a shichen later, Qin Han arrived with another wave of men. When Yaglakar Yehu saw them, he realized he had been tricked. Eager to pursue and kill Wang Chong, he turned and left at once, so Qin Han’s group suffered no losses at all. When Qin Han heard that Wang Chong intended to give him the merit for slaying Yehu, he wept with gratitude and bowed to the ground. That merit was enough to advance Qin Han’s service record by three grades, perhaps even enough to draw the Heavenly Empress’s attention directly. From then on, official advancement and soaring success would be a matter of course.
All who witnessed this thought the same: following this Prince of Yan, Brother Wang Chong, there was a great future ahead—a great future indeed!
What merit was it to have slain the Yaglakar, the fearsome Fragrance Marshal? Yet Wang Chong had given it away without batting an eye.
How many secretly thought: “In the future, if the Prince of Yan has any command, braving fire and water will go without saying.”
Wang Chong led this group to rest outside the city for a while before they slowly made their way into the city.
This time, the atmosphere in Tongzhou Prefecture was completely different. Without Wang Chong needing to give orders, more than ten taverns announced that they would open their doors freely to the brothers of the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance and would not charge a single coin for wine.
Wang Chong first went to the Tongzhou prefectural government office and had the chief constables of the sixteen prefectures come to pay their respects. This time, no one was absent, and no one was late.
Wang Chong had those who had come last time wait elsewhere, and led the seven chief constables who had not come last time into a quiet room. Smiling, he said, “I now have a matter I would like you all to handle. Are you willing?”
One chief constable asked, “What matter?”
Wang Chong said blandly, “I do not know what it is either. Is this chief constable unwilling?”
The words were chilling. All seven chief constables heard the cold killing intent in them. They were all shrewd men, so they immediately clasped their hands and said, “We are willing to do anything for His Highness the Prince of Yan!” Even if some were unwilling, they dared not say so.
Wang Chong had just killed Yaglakar Yehu—who would dare defy this Prince of Yan?
Wang Chong was very satisfied. He said, “If afterward I learn that someone was unwilling and tried to back out, I would not mind making your entire clan vanish from the world.”
The seven chief constables were silent with fear, not daring to make a sound. Wang Chong had not even said what he wanted them to do, so the danger involved could well be imagined. Yet how could they dare resist? They all secretly regretted having put on airs. If they had gone with their colleagues to pay respects to this “superior” back when he was not yet the Prince of Yan, wouldn’t everything have been fine?
After arranging these men and making some further arrangements, Wang Chong returned alone to the Prefectural Office. This time he carried the hidden corpse of Wen Zhiwei on his shoulder, used his lightness skill, and silently delivered it into Wen Zhengxi’s bedroom.
There had to be a White Chrysanthemum surnamed Wen in this world. Wen Zhengxi would do just fine. It did not necessarily have to be Wen Zhengchun.
After finishing this big job, Wang Chong slipped away. He first returned to the Tongzhou prefectural government office, then gathered more than ten constables from the various prefectures and several dozen brothers of the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance, and brazenly headed straight for the Prefectural Office a second time.
When Wang Chong returned this time, he came with great fanfare, so naturally everyone knew. Wen Zhengxi had no choice but to come out and receive him. He had been waiting in his study for the outcome. Although the reports coming back were more exaggerated and outrageous than the last, he had no choice but to accept them.
This eldest young master of the Wen family had already acknowledged the failure of the kill-the-chrysanthemum plan, but he was still unwilling to accept it. He simply could not understand how Wang Chong could have undergone such a drastic change.
He knew every detail about “Wen Zhengchun.” After all, he had personally instructed this cousin in martial arts and literature. What this cousin’s talent was like, his character, his temperament—he knew all of it thoroughly. Such a change was almost inconceivable.
When Wen Zhengxi saw Wang Chong, he frowned slightly and said, “How has Aunt taught you? Do you know what you have done today?”
Normally, when he became angry like this, “Wen Zhengchun” would have long been terrified, but Wang Chong did not care. Smiling, he said, “Cousin, we are brothers. Whatever the matter is, can’t we speak civilly? Must you be so harsh with me?”
He led his men straight toward Wen Zhengxi’s room. Wen Zhengxi sensed something was wrong, but then he saw Wang Chong give one of the chief constables a meaningful look. The chief constable hesitated, unwilling to speak, but when he met Wang Chong’s suddenly cold gaze, he had no choice but to steel himself and say, “Why is there a smell of blood in the room?”
Wang Chong shouted, “Nonsense! How could my cousin’s room have the smell of blood? Everyone, don’t go over there—really, don’t go!”
The coerced chief constables saw Wang Chong’s fierce gaze and knew that this was a command to die. They could only disregard everything and rush into the room. When they saw Wen Zhiwei’s corpse, they shouted together, “There’s a corpse here!”
Wang Chong rushed in with more than ten people and immediately began trembling all over. He cried out, “It’s Sister Zhiwei!”
Wen Zhengxi had been composed, wanting to see what trick Wang Chong was up to. Hearing Wang Chong cry out like that, he thought, “This is bad!” He hurried into his own room and indeed saw the corpse of his cousin Wen Zhiwei lying on his own bed.
Wang Chong’s face was full of grief. He screamed wildly, “Sister Zhiwei treated me like true family! Who killed her? Who killed her? I want this villain to pay with his life—blood for blood!”
By then, even the constables whom Wang Chong had not instructed understood. Lu Mingyuan, chief constable of Tongzhou Prefecture, was even bolder. He said, “Actually, in the White Chrysanthemum case, several pieces of evidence point to the Prince of Yan’s Mansion, but the Prince of Yan has never been in the mansion. This case must be—this case must be...” The old codger clearly wanted to keep going on and on, but he did not dare finish.
Wang Chong suddenly turned around and shouted, “Cousin Zhengxi, if you liked to toy with commoner women in the past, I could overlook it, but why did you have to lay hands on Sister Zhiwei? I saw you make things difficult for her several times and meant to advise you. Who would have thought you harbored such wolfish ambition—that you are so outrageous, worse than pigs and dogs, devoid of humanity, and deserve death a thousand times!”
Chapter 80