Chapter 10: The Second Divine Martial Tournament, Section 7: A Meeting of Mutual Appreciation (Part II)

When Ling Luo spoke, Bu Jingsian felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart tightly, nearly suffocating him. He had long known Ling Luo’s sincere loyalty to him, but he never expected that, after all this time, it remained unchanged. Yet now, though he was clearly still alive, he endured listening to these words, feigning indifference as if it were none of his concern. He realized how cold-hearted he truly was; he longed to call Ling Luo “Senior Brother,” but reason reminded him that Bu Jingsian was dead and must never be mentioned again.

If Ling Luo were to discover that the enemy he was destined to fight was, in fact, his third junior brother, it would only bring him greater pain. For Bu Jingsian could not abandon the heavy burden he bore, nor could Ling Luo forsake the responsibilities incumbent upon him as the eldest son of the Left Marquis and the husband of the Princess of Celestial Melody. This was a cruel joke of fate—a tragedy.

Suddenly, Bu Jingsian recalled how, back on Beiling Mountain, the old master had been reluctant to let the two disciples grow too close. He wondered silently if the master had already seen through their natures, foreseen their futures, and anticipated that such intimacy would only deepen their suffering when they stood as foes.

“The world has been in chaos for too long; the people suffer greatly. Countless lives are lost each year to war. Lord Bei is no fool—why then insist on stirring these troubles, making unity all the more difficult?” Ling Luo’s tone shifted sharply after a few drinks. “Lord Bei, do not take offense; I consider you a close friend and must speak frankly without restraint or caution.”

“Lord Xinhou’s magnanimity is well known to me. Before a true man, one speaks openly. My ambition for Left Bank is clear to all who see: to claim the world’s throne. There is no need to conceal this from you. What you say is true: as long as the world remains divided, the wars will not cease. But who is the legitimate sovereign of a unified realm? Is it the King of Zheng or the King of Chu? Such titles are matters of circumstance, not wisdom. Left Bank should not bring more chaos, yet our pursuit of the soul’s will differs from other sects. Only through unity can belief be unified; only through unified belief can the soul’s will be realized. None of the kingdoms worship the soul’s will. Tell me, Lord Xinhou, how can Left Bank not place its hopes in itself?”

“The soul’s will…” Ling Luo’s words stirred Bu Jingsian’s thoughts. He had long suspected that if his third junior brother ever left Beiling Mountain, he might one day embrace such ideals. Yet he never imagined hearing them from another.

Zheng Linran, initially repelled by the concept of the soul’s will, found himself oddly compelled by Left Bank’s brazen confidence. Though he scorned Ling Luo’s ambitious arrogance, he could not help but regard him with a measure of respect.

“Once, I served a strong nation and sought to advance the soul’s will. But later I saw the folly of it: few truly believe in it; most use it merely as a tool. Today they profess belief, tomorrow they brand it heresy. Only those who truly believe remain steadfast and unchanging. Left Bank has yet to find such a ruler; thus, I must become that ruler myself!”

Zheng Linran responded with a wry smile, “I fear, Lord Bei, that such ambitions may end in regret.” Ling Luo laughed heartily. “Sect Leader, your words are apt. Have I not considered the dangers?” Zheng Linran thought him foolish for reminding his foes so plainly, yet Bu Jingsian merely smiled faintly at their exchange.

“When the time is right, one must seize the moment. If the world cannot be unified swiftly, the era of divided powers and endless war could last centuries, even a millennium. The King of Chu has just ascended, while Han and Chen, weakened by internal strife, are ripe for conquest. Qi’s king is old and likely to follow Han and Chen’s fate. Wei and Yan’s rulers may not last long either. These signs herald an opportunity for rapid unification. Once the new kings stabilize their realms, this chance will vanish, and the stalemate will persist for generations.”

Bu Jingsian drained his cup and continued, “But such opportunity demands strength. How many hearts can I win by accompanying Emperor Zhou to Zheng? Miss the Divine Martial Tournament now, and I must wait another two years. Who can predict the world’s state then? I fear regret will be unbearable. Naturally, Zheng will not welcome me and may seek to eliminate me to prevent future trouble. Yet great deeds require great risks. I believe it is worth the gamble. If I fail to realize my ambition, life would be worse than death. Survive this trial, and I can establish myself and plan for the future. Fail, and extinction is inevitable.”

Zheng Linran smiled and asked, “Lord Bei sets life and death aside, but what of the two noble wives of the Late Sunset Clan? The romance between Princess Bai and you is even the talk of Zheng.”

“I remain true to both tenderness and ambition. Why fear death? If my calculations are correct, after the Divine Martial Tournament, Sect Leader Linran will send assassins to claim my life.”

“I do not doubt your devotion to Princess Bai,” Zheng Linran replied softly, evading the question with a smile. He was surprised that Ling Luo had foreseen even this and chose only to hint at his earlier indiscretions at the banquet.

“A man who longs to conquer the heavens cannot lack the boldness to possess beauty; one who seeks martial supremacy cannot lack the ruthlessness to slay all heroes; he who is peerless cannot lack pride to rival all rivals. To harbor ambition and yet desire exclusivity is the folly of the vain and ignorant. My consort is not only enviably beautiful but also wise.”

“A fine saying: ‘One who seeks martial supremacy cannot lack the ruthlessness to slay all heroes.’ It perfectly describes the life of our Zheng warriors. Imagine how many battles she has witnessed, how many heroes have fallen beneath her hand! For that, let us drink!” Ling Luo cheered loudly, leading the way to finish his cup.

Zheng Linran raised her own glass and drank deeply, recalling her master Zheng Feixian’s life and feeling the truth of those words. She pondered silently, growing ever more impressed by Lord Bei’s extraordinary mind and speech.

They drank more than intended, and the next morning, upon waking, Zheng Linran recalled the previous night and realized she was in Lord Xinhou’s mansion. After freshening up, she found Ling Luo and Bu Jingsian already awake, discussing weapons in the training yard.

“Sect Leader is awake. We were just waiting for you to accompany us to the palace. His Majesty specially invited the Tehuan Opera Troupe from the capital to perform.”

“I’ve heard that troupe is quite amusing. Today, I think I’ll skip the performance to rest.”

Ling Luo smiled at Bu Jingsian. “See how busy the Sect Leader of Zheng Feixian Sect is? Even a single performance requires an imperial edict to free him.”

At that moment, the Princess of Celestial Melody approached, smiling at the conversation.

“Lord Xinhou, if you know this, why delay your departure?”

Bu Jingsian felt puzzled. He had seen the princess many times, always veiled. He had not heard of any other princess in Zheng keeping such a custom. He also knew Ling Luo held her in deep regard and dared not speak disrespectfully.

“It is indeed time. With the princess accompanying us, even leaving an hour early might not ensure timely arrival at the palace.”

Bu Jingsian did not understand Zheng Linran’s meaning, but soon after they left the mansion by carriage, he realized. Along the streets, commoners rushed out, holding petitions and begging the princess to hear their grievances. Had it not been for the female guards accompanying her constantly reminding her, the endless complaints might have taken forever to resolve. By the time they reached the palace, the petitions she had collected were piled nearly half a yard high.

“King Zheng has always been wise. Why then do so many people in the capital block the princess’s carriage with complaints?” Ling Luo chuckled. “About thirty to forty percent are not worth investigating—troublemakers hoping to deceive the princess after failing in their petitions; forty to fifty percent stem from complex issues that cannot be resolved quickly, and the victims blame corrupt officials, thus appealing to the princess; the remainder, however, are truly wronged.”

Bu Jingsian could empathize with such frustration. The Princess of Celestial Melody had intended to seek justice for the people, but many miscreants sought to exploit the situation, wasting her precious time and energy with meaningless inquiries.

“The princess thinks of the world as a common good, but the world is far from that. She truly works hard.”

Zheng Linran’s voice softened with sympathy for the princess.

“We have advised her to ignore these lowly people. Not because we speak ill of them, but because the princess’s kindness nearly cost her her life several times. Once, a scoundrel presented many false proofs; the princess almost accused the Minister in the royal court, but fortunately, I knew the villain’s background. Otherwise, that would have been a disgrace! Though the princess has cleared countless wrongful cases, a single mistake would bring endless censure and ban her from court. The princess cares for the people, but most among them care nothing for her.”

The Princess of Celestial Melody sighed. “There were times I wanted to give up, but then I thought: injustice abounds in the world. Without a path for complaints, grievances fester and intensify. I cannot bear to see another tragedy like that of the Southeast Hero. So I must endure, working harder to verify the truth of each case.”

Bu Jingsian recalled hearing of the Southeast Hero while on Beiling Mountain. A wandering swordsman turned merchant from Zheng’s southeast had earned a noble reputation, abiding by laws even after leaving the martial path. Yet he was deceived and wronged; the courts ruled unjustly, forcing him to pay heavy debts. His wife and daughter were taken by officials as servants.

With no recourse, the hero, in fury, retrieved an ancient sword and slaughtered the entire family who wronged him—over eighty people—and stormed the government office, killing over a hundred more. No one captured him at first, but upon seeing the tearful cries of innocent patrolmen’s relatives, he regained his senses. Weeping bitterly, he cried out to the heavens, “Injustice has destroyed my family. I have killed the innocent because of injustice. Why does the heavens treat me thus? Why does the heavens treat all people thus?” Then he took his own life with his sword to atone.

This tragedy stirred the local martial sects into rage. Malicious instigators almost sparked a great rebellion. The Princess of Celestial Melody rode tirelessly day and night to quell the unrest, executing seventeen corrupt officials tied to the case.

The tale of the Southeast Hero spread widely throughout Zheng, and the princess’s fairness became renowned. The martial world mourned the hero’s fate, lamenting that one who had never killed unjustly before met such a tragic end, losing family, honor, and peace in his final days.