Chen Ye sat upright in his chair.
“Co in.” His voice was calm.
The hem of a black dress fluttered.
Qin Yi moved lightly, stepping into the hall.
“Master…”
She bowed respectfully before Chen Ye.
“Mm. Did those two confess?”
Chen Ye picked up a handful of lon seeds from the table, cracking them leisurely as he spoke.
Qin Yi relayed what the two prisoners had said.
Chen Ye listened, then nodded.
“I see.”
“Go find out where the Qilin Pavilion headquarters is.”
“If I rember right, didn’t Lin Tanzhi, the head of Huashan, co looking for last ti?”
“Shouldn’t be too hard to trace.”
“Yes.”
Qin Yi’s voice was soft, her tone deferential.
Chen Ye leaned back against the wooden table, brushing the empty seed shells aside and rolling his neck.
“Co, knead my shoulders.”
“Yes.”
Qin Yi walked to his side. Her hands, delicate and boneless, pressed gently onto his shoulders.
Feeling the steady pressure, Chen Ye half-closed his eyes, continuing to crack lon seeds.
“You’ve advanced to First Rank now. What are your plans?” His voice was even.
Qin Yi’s tone was gentle: “As long as I live, I will always belong to Yuye Hall.”
Chen Ye nodded slightly at her words.
“You truly have nothing you want for yourself? Life is but a short hundred years—one should have so pursuit.”
Qin Yi lowered her head a little, fingers still pressing his shoulders.
Her hands were pale and slender, but thick calluses covered the base of her thumb.
“I am but a sword. Wherever your will points, that is where my edge strikes.”
Chen Ye cracked another seed, ate the kernel, and said lightly, “Starting tomorrow, go travel the martial world for a while. Clear your mind. Think of it as a vacation.”
Qin Yi nodded earnestly. “Alright. How many days should I be gone?”
Chen Ye chuckled. “At least a month. Go wherever you like, just wander. And change your clothes when you leave. Don’t always wear black. You’re still young.”
“Yes.”
For so reason, the corners of her lips lifted faintly.
Just then, a cry ca from the courtyard.
“Eh?”
“You want to wash these pants? But… they’ve got poop on them!”
It was Hua Xiyue’s voice.
Qin Yi, still kneading his shoulders, spoke softly: “Master, that girl also has First Rank strength. She’s so young—she must co from an extraordinary background.”
Chen Ye laughed. “If she wants to be a maid, let her. A First Rank serving as my maid—quite qualified, I’d say.”
Qin Yi bowed her head lightly, her eyes thoughtful. Was First Rank strength really only worth that much…?
“By the way, Master, news just arrived from the branch in Bianliang. Sun Sheng and Qiong Aohai have been thrown into the Six Gates prison. And as for Ming, he seems to have changed course—he’s heading toward Bianliang. Should I detour there…”
Chen Ye cut her off.
“I’ll handle this matter myself.”
“Yes.”
“Alright, that’s enough. My shoulders feel much looser.” He shrugged and rolled his neck.
He grabbed a handful of lon seeds and handed them to Qin Yi.
“Take these with you.”
She reached out with her fair hand, receiving the seeds, her eyes lowered like still water.
No one could tell what she was thinking.
…
Bianliang.
A grand, imposing compound.
Above the gate hung a massive plaque, three bold characters in formal script: Six Gates.
This was the headquarters of the Six Gates.
Inside, the prison held the most vicious criminals of the martial world, n drenched in blood-debt.
Within the dark prison tunnels—
Clank, clank…
The scrape of chains echoed at the far end of the corridor.
From the cells behind iron bars ca murmurs.
“Another newcor!”
“Heh, I bet a stead bun he’s from the Taihang sect.”
“Yeah right. You never pay up when you lose.”
“Nonsense! This ti I swear—if he’s not Taihang, I won’t eat this bun!”
Laughter rippled through the prisoners—hair disheveled, shackled through the shoulder bones, all infamous outlaws.
Clank, clank…
The chain-dragging grew louder.
The new prisoner finally ca into view.
“Hey! He’s actually quite handso…”
A sultry female voice called out.
“Haha! Zhou Erniang, you’ve got your eye on him already?”
“None of your damn business whether I do or not!”
“Good looks won’t save him. He’s still stuck in the Six Gates’ prison!”
The cells roared with jeers.
The clanking grew closer.
Two constables dragged a pale young man into the corridor.
Though chains pierced his shoulders, his face held no despair. His bright eyes scanned the prison curiously.
“So this is the Six Gates prison? Looks average enough… though it stinks plenty. Well, I’ve seen it now.”
It was Sun Sheng.
He pinched his nose against the stench of filth and rot.
His eyes road—the corridor lined with cells, so holding n, others won.
The won’s cells had cloth curtains; the n’s, bare iron.
The prisoners, seeing Sun Sheng so calm—curious even—felt a grudging respect.
Anyone thrown in here was as good as dead. But this new one didn’t cry or rage.
The constables dragged him before an empty cell, unlocked the gate, and shoved him inside.
He stumbled, chains rattling at his ankles.
Creaaak. The iron door swung shut.
Turning, Sun Sheng asked, “Brothers, can I ask where my second brother’s being held? I didn’t see him.”
Two days ago, when Sun Sheng and Qiong Aohai were brought to Bianliang, Lei Zhengyang, the Golden Ring Blade, had taken Qiong Aohai away on a writ.
A whole day had passed, and Sun Sheng still hadn’t seen him.
The constables ignored his question, locking up the cell and leaving silently.
Sun Sheng sighed. Well, since he and Qiong Aohai shared the sa case, they’d eventually face the blade together.
He surveyed his new quarters.
The floor was covered with straw, stained dark in the corners.
The walls bore countless scratched words and curses, carved deep by desperate nails.
Opposite the door was a fist-sized window, letting in a sliver of light.
Nothing else.
Sun Sheng clicked his tongue, slumped onto the straw, and muttered, “Pretty barebones.”
“Hey, newcor! What cri brought you here?”
A prisoner from a diagonal cell shouted at him.
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