Chapter 123: The Situation in the Royal Capital

"No..."

Kun Jia watched Jiang Pingchuan’s movements, spitting out a mouthful of blood in his fury. His body, which had barely managed to levitate into the air, slammed hard against the ground.

Jiang Pingchuan gently rubbed the Soul-Gathering Bead between his two fingers, crushing it into fine powder, which he then tossed into the air, letting it drift away.

The moment the bead shattered, Jiang Pingchuan felt a gentle breeze sweep through Storm City. It was as if a veil had been lifted, and the city was finally bathing in sunlight and righteous energy.

Kun Jia collapsed on the ground, coughing up blood. He glared at Jiang Pingchuan, teeth gritted, his eyes fixed on the residue of the bead as it vanished into the wind.

Jiang Pingchuan ignored him, turning instead to sit on a chair. He picked up a length of hemp rope from the floor, twisting it back and forth. Not long after, Master Gong arrived on the city wall, accompanied by a man in black robes.

Without a word, Master Gong walked straight up to the cowering Kun Jia, slapped him twice, and kicked him hard. Only then did he feel satisfied, turning to stand by Jiang Pingchuan’s side.

Jiang Pingchuan looked at the bruised and swollen middle-aged man standing next to Master Gong. It was obvious that this was the true Lord of Storm City, the real Kun Jia. However, the real Kun Jia looked like a coward, devoid of any spirit.

The fake Kun Jia, slumped on the ground, laughed hysterically as he caught sight of the real one, mocking the true city lord with biting sarcasm.

Jiang Pingchuan stood up, frowning at the babbling imposter. He walked over, the hemp rope in his hands fashioned into a slipknot.

As Jiang Pingchuan approached with a grim, snarling expression, the fake Kun Jia began to laugh wildly. Jiang Pingchuan paid no mind to his reaction; he was simply doing what he had set out to do.

He looped the rope around the imposter’s neck. Without tightening it, he grabbed the other end and began dragging the man across the floor. As Jiang Pingchuan moved, the loop tightened around the imposter’s neck.

The imposter’s face turned crimson, yet he continued to cough and laugh, never once trying to loosen the rope with his hands. Jiang Pingchuan glanced back at the half-dead man, then looked toward the city gate where the bodies of Ouyang and Mu Yunfeng were hanging.

With a powerful swing, Jiang Pingchuan flung the imposter off the city wall and tied the other end of the rope to a stone pillar. The moment he was thrown, the fake Kun Jia’s expression changed completely; he stopped playing the fool.

Alas, it was too late. He struggled in agony, but the more he fought, the tighter the noose became.

Finally, with a sharp crack, his neck was snapped. Blood gushed from his mouth, and his eyes bulged, eventually popping from their sockets and falling to the ground.

A group of children at the city gate began stomping on the eyes that had fallen onto the dirt. The townspeople emerged one by one, looking up at the three corpses hanging at the gate. As the faint black mist in the sky slowly dissipated, they felt that gentle, warm breeze once again.

Jiang Pingchuan returned to the real Lord Kun Jia. He looked at the honest-looking middle-aged man, and the two stood there in silence. Master Gong, standing nearby, grew anxious; watching their intense, soulful stare, he felt the urge to go hang himself from a rope.

"Thank you."

The real Kun Jia was indeed the honest, simple man they had heard about. After struggling for a long time, he could only muster two words. Jiang Pingchuan was even more concise; he chuckled, patted the man on the shoulder, and turned to leave.

Master Gong glanced at the Kun Jia standing on the wall, sighed, and followed Jiang Pingchuan down. They had studied the layout of Storm City; exiting through the west gate was the shortest route to the Imperial Capital.

As Jiang Pingchuan and Master Gong walked out through the west gate, accompanied by the cheers of the townspeople, the real Kun Jia stood on the wall, looking in the direction of their departure. He bowed deeply and whispered to himself.

As he walked, Jiang Pingchuan suddenly and inexplicably raised his hand to wave behind him. They were already quite far from Storm City, and Master Gong was stunned by the gesture.

Jiang Pingchuan himself did not know why he had waved; it felt as if he could sense someone offering him sincere gratitude. It felt like being honored, a feeling so ethereal he could not describe it. He lowered his hand, shot a glare at Master Gong, and the two continued slowly toward the capital.

Jiang Pingchuan’s execution of over a dozen cultivators in Storm City, including Ouyang, Mu Yunfeng, and their leader—the fake city lord—had become the stuff of legend. Some claimed Jiang Pingchuan’s power had never vanished.

Others said he had broken through the highest peak of the Changfeng Continent, becoming a master-like existence. There were even those who believed he must have used some kind of pill to launch a surprise attack.

There was no definitive word, only rumors. As these reports spread, a group of men in a forest leaned against trees, panting heavily. These were the men Jiang Pingchuan had spared at the governor's mansion. The leader took a deep breath, looking at his brothers.

"We have been spreading the word for Young Master Jiang these past few days. It should save him quite a bit of trouble," the leader said in a low voice. The others nodded. They had been spending their days in tea houses and streets, exaggerating Jiang Pingchuan's cruelty, making people both respect and fear this mysterious figure.

"Big Brother, why are we doing this?" a subordinate asked. They did not understand why they were working so hard now that Jiang Pingchuan had already left.

Jiang Pingchuan had caused quite a stir in his single day in Storm City, but they had escaped with their lives. There was no need to go to such lengths.

"Jiang Pingchuan is destined to attract the attention of the Lan family in the capital. Being on good terms with him will give us room to maneuver in the future," the leader replied. The others nodded, though they still didn't quite grasp the strategy; their leader’s foresight always exceeded their own.

In a side palace of the Lan Dynasty, Lan Dao sat in a chair, holding a scantily clad woman in his arms. She leaned against him, gazing at him with deep affection.

This woman was Jiu Ling, who had rescued Lan Dao from the Gong mansion. She had been forced back into her original form after blocking a strike meant for Jiang Pingchuan by Hu Mei’er.

She was furious, but knowing she was no match for Jiang Pingchuan, she had brought Lan Dao back to the palace to seek revenge.

"Jiang Pingchuan is coming to the capital. It is said the Emperor values him highly. I wonder if he will be given military command," Jiu Ling whispered. Lan Dao snorted, his expression darkening. He tightened his grip on Jiu Ling, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Why would my Father grant military command to an outsider? When the border reports arrive in two days, I will ask him for the command seal, so I may go to the frontier to kill the enemy and defend the country."

Lan Dao’s voice was low—he was a different man entirely, as if he had been replaced. Lan Ling’er entered the palace in a blue gown, saw Jiu Ling in her brother’s arms, and let out a cold snort, her face changing as she turned to leave.

"Ling’er, it’s not polite to leave without a word after coming all this way," Jiu Ling said, leaning into Lan Dao’s arms, her tone accusatory.

Lan Ling’er turned back, her anger flaring at the sight of Jiu Ling’s heavy makeup and seductive appearance. Ever since her brother returned with this woman, he had been a different person—irritable and filled with malice.

She had heard that Lan Dao had flown into a rage when he learned Jiang Pingchuan was coming to the capital. She had wanted to ask him about it, but seeing Jiu Ling, she lost all desire to speak.

"Vixen, it’s not your place to speak here. Look at yourself," Lan Ling’er retorted coldly. Jiu Ling’s eyes flickered as she pressed closer to Lan Dao. Lan Dao opened his eyes and looked at his sister.

"Ling’er, Jiu Ling will be your sister-in-law. Do not be insolent," Lan Dao said, tapping his chair arm, his tone brooks no argument. Jiu Ling was stunned to hear this.

For a moment, a look unlike her usual self flickered in her eyes. She didn't know what was happening to her; she felt as if she were losing her way. She had intended to use Lan Dao to kill Jiang Pingchuan and avenge Hu Mei’er—it was a desperate, final gamble, and she had long since lost her fear.

But now, seeing Lan Dao’s growing malice and his willingness to kill Jiang Pingchuan for her, she suddenly felt afraid. She feared that the man would realize she was using him. She had become timid, and the closer she stayed to Lan Dao, the more she felt burdened by her own concerns.

"Insolent? She is a vixen, and you—do you even know who you are anymore?" Lan Ling’er said, her face flushed with indignation.

"Enough. What are you here for?" Lan Dao grew irritable whenever anyone discussed Jiu Ling in his presence; he had even been known to strike people.

Lan Dao was no longer the boy who couldn't cultivate; he was now a Foundation Establishment cultivator, a power granted to him by Jiu Ling through a soul-transference technique. It was for this reason that the Emperor of the Lan Dynasty reluctantly allowed Jiu Ling to remain in the palace.

"I came to tell you: don't mess with Jiang Pingchuan. He has become even stronger," Lan Ling’er said, head held high. Lan Dao glared at her, his face dark with rage, and suddenly he struck out at her with a palm from across the room.

Jiu Ling was shocked. She had not expected Lan Dao to become so violent at the mere mention of Jiang Pingchuan, to the point of attacking his own sister. As the blow was about to strike Lan Ling’er, a faint red light flickered, and the attack was blocked. Lan Dao clenched his fists. Jiu Ling stood up, and Lan Dao stepped down from the dais toward his sister.

Suddenly, Jiu Ling grabbed Lan Dao’s hand. He froze and turned to look at her, but she didn't speak, instead kneeling on one knee. Lan Dao seemed to realize something; he turned back, bowed his head hurriedly, his expression nervous.

"Greetings, Ancestor..."

"Greetings, Lord Chi..."

Maoqiu walked into the palace with a swagger, a feline gait in its step. It scanned the kneeling Jiu Ling and the bowing Lan Dao, and let out a cold snort through its spiritual sense.

Both were startled. When Jiu Ling saw Maoqiu, she had sensed the aura of the Scarlet Cloud Tiger. After questioning Lan Dao, she deduced that Maoqiu was indeed the Great Scarlet Cloud Tiger. Since then, she had addressed it as "Lord." Now, the tiger was angry, and they feared they were about to be punished.

PS: Maoqiu is back! With its comedic style, one wonders if it will be a hilarious duo when it meets Master Gong. Stay tuned to find out why Maoqiu knows so much 21st-century slang—excitement awaits!