Section Five: The Art of Outwitting

Bu Jingxian heard the thunder of hooves coming from the direction of Jin Guang City along the road behind him. He surmised it must be the ambush led by the city’s governor, rushing to surround him. If he had failed, he would have sent up a signal fire, but now he decided it was better not to. If Bai Xing rushed in recklessly to his aid, it would only put him in greater danger.

From the direction the convoy had come, the sound of galloping horses echoed as well. Bu Jingxian should have immediately broken through the encirclement, yet he held his position, believing that being surrounded was now inevitable, and by waiting a little, his chances might increase.

Soon, the troops approaching from the convoy's path arrived first. Dozens of mounted soldiers guarded the carriage. As they halted, a low, cold, androgynous voice issued from the compartment.

“Commander, is this the left bank criminal wanted for slaying the garrison commander at the Leper Town of Zheng?”

A bearded man in bright armor, seated atop his horse, pulled a wanted poster from his breast, unfurled it, and replied, “Reporting to the Grand Chancellor, this is indeed the criminal wanted by Zheng. The Evening Glow Sect has conspired with outlaws to murder Zheng’s officers, seeking to disrupt relations and sow chaos between our two nations. Now, with the attempted assassination of an official appointed by our sovereign, treason is an ironclad fact!”

Bu Jingxian glanced over and memorized the man’s face, but otherwise feigned attention to the encircling soldiers, as if on guard. He silently resolved: today, come what may, a bloody battle was inevitable, and this commander must die. Though he had fallen into their trap, he would ensure the hunters paid dearly.

He was also inwardly startled, quickly realizing that while the commander’s appointment was genuine, the true purpose was to use Ling’s affair, and Bu Jingxian himself, as a pretext to directly accuse the Evening Glow Sect. The reformist leader, Grand Chancellor of Chen, had come in person with troops—a sign that the sect’s destruction was now a foregone conclusion.

“What a joke! What has the Evening Glow Sect to do with my left bank? They are nothing but two foolish, wealthy women I toyed with at my leisure. As for you—hmph!—my enmity with you runs deep as blood. My association with the sect was merely a means to carry out today’s assassination. Though my plot has failed, whether you can detain me depends on your own ability!”

At that moment, a hand reached out from within and pulled back the blue curtain of the carriage.

This was also Bu Jingxian’s first meeting with the Grand Chancellor of Chen.

The face inside the carriage was strikingly young, delicate, and scholarly, exuding a certain refinement. His gaze was frosty, his lips particularly crimson. Fitting for his doctrine and station: jurisprudence is a cold, pitiless science, and its enforcement is always written in blood.

“You are indeed loyal and righteous, Young Master of the Left Bank. Even when surrounded, you do not forget to absolve the Evening Glow Sect. Alas, the King of Chen has already decided this matter. Whether you admit it or not, it is of no consequence.”

Bu Jingxian sneered, his tone scornful. “Well spoken, Grand Chancellor of the Legalist faction—willing to fabricate crimes to eliminate your enemies. So much for your so-called rule of law; it’s nothing but the whim of men masquerading as justice. What a farce!”

The blue curtain was let fall again, and the Grand Chancellor inside spoke no further.

The commander at the front of the carriage shouted, “Seize him!” Immediately, the surrounding soldiers moved in to apprehend Bu Jingxian.

But Bu Jingxian had already gauged their strength with his Mystic Eye. The soldiers had no internal cultivation, their stamina ranging from 100 to 200. The ten who had leapt from the carriage had only rudimentary internal energy, values between 120 and 200, their stamina superior to the soldiers—between 300 and 430. Even if their techniques increased their killing power by thirty percent, and even if their weapons were of fine enough quality to double their lethality, they posed no true threat to him.

In other words, he could stand his ground beneath the blades of those ten martial cultivators and not suffer so much as a scratch.

The commander’s stamina reached 1000, internal force 400. With the added boost from techniques and weaponry, he could pose some danger. Yet the most formidable presence was the Grand Chancellor in the carriage—an internal master, stamina 100, but internal energy a staggering 1800. In their brief encounter, Bu Jingxian had also noticed a precious jade at the Chancellor’s waist, capable of gathering the energy of heaven and earth.

It was this man who truly gave him pause.

As the ten martial cultivators swung their swords, Bu Jingxian braced his back to receive four of the blows. With a quick retreat, he snapped the blades on his back, then, turning, smashed the four attackers skyward with a sweep of his greatsword. The remaining soldiers attacked from the front and sides, their weapons hacking and stabbing at him.

None could inflict harm.

With a surge of power, Bu Jingxian flung the six away who pressed in closest. Like a serpent, his light sword flashed, and, before the enemy could recover, he spun in a sweeping arc, slitting five throats.

In an instant, of the Grand Chancellor’s ten chosen men, four were crushed by his greatsword, five slain by the sweep of his blade. The last dared not approach, drenched in cold sweat. “Everyone be careful! He’s mastered the Invincible Diamond Body!”

This was precisely the awe Bu Jingxian sought to inspire. Of course, he had no such Buddhist invulnerability—those arts used special techniques to channel inner energy and harden the body against blades and arrows. His own advantage lay in stamina and the resilience granted by his heart’s cultivation, vastly superior to his foes. But the enemy, not knowing the truth, would only grow more fearful, convinced he was impervious to weapons, their morale collapsing.

Had he known sooner how to use the colored radiance within himself, that day, Hero Li would have perished with a single blow.

Bu Jingxian planted his greatsword before him, waiting for the commander to strike. If he landed a single blow, that man’s life would be forfeit—but the challenge lay in how to land that blow.

All were cowed, yet the commander, furious, cracked his whip and drew his sword.

“Hmph! What if you have invulnerable skills? Attack! Let’s see how many blades he can withstand!”

The soldiers obeyed, but none wished to approach. Those with spears jabbed from afar; those with swords or sabers swung from as great a distance as possible, aiming for Bu Jingxian’s head.

Bu Jingxian stood motionless, watching ten spears and six or seven blades strike his body. Before the enemy could recover, he channeled his strength, sending a shockwave that sent the soldiers reeling, knocking down the rows behind them.

He dusted off his robe with deliberate contempt, jeering, “Is this the best you can do? You think to capture me? I’ll stand right here. If any of you can so much as wound me, I’ll call it your victory.”

The commander was duly provoked. Seeing that none of the others were any match, he leaped from his horse and swept his sword in dazzling arcs, lunging straight at Bu Jingxian. Though fired up, the commander’s opening moves were still probing, feinting more than striking, and Bu Jingxian could only sigh inwardly. If he allowed himself to be struck, he would surely be injured; but if he parried, the commander would become more cautious, and his chance would slip away.

As he weighed his options, the commander’s sword was already at hand. Bu Jingxian could only trust in the two layers of armor he wore.

With the sound of metal scraping, he felt the inner layer—Bai Xing’s gift—indeed block the probing thrust of the commander’s sword, though his outer robe was slashed.

“Hmph! So much for invincible skills—you’re just wearing hidden armor!” the commander sneered, launching a second attack. His blade flashed with starlight, aiming for Bu Jingxian’s brow, eyes, and throat.

The surrounding soldiers cheered, urging him on, while the blue curtain of the carriage was drawn back and the Grand Chancellor watched in silence.

The blade flickered, reaching his face in a blink.

Bu Jingxian judged that this, too, was a probing strike. The commander, having seen blades strike Bu Jingxian’s arms earlier, guessed he would not simply stand and take it, and so held back his strength, wary of a sudden counterattack.

The sword pricked his brow, a sharp pain lancing into his head. As it neared his eyes, he turned his face slightly, letting the blade graze his nose and cheek; at his throat, he did not move. Each cut was but a chill on his skin—shallow red welts, none breaking flesh.

Feigning ignorance of his opponent’s restraint, Bu Jingxian’s taunt grew even more arrogant. “Is that all? It seems the men of Chen go hungry—your blades barely tickle!”

The commander, having witnessed Bu Jingxian unmoving through two attacks, was now convinced he was facing a boastful fool, ignorant of his own limits. With a cold laugh, his third strike came at full force, again at brow, eyes, and throat.

In a flash, the blade was upon him.

Suddenly, from within the carriage, the Grand Chancellor shouted, “No!”

But it was too late.

Bu Jingxian lunged forward, turning his head so the blade only grazed his forehead, while his fist smashed into the commander’s throat.

With a sickening crunch, the commander’s eyes bulged, his neck grotesquely stretched and deformed by the blow. Dead before he hit the ground, his corpse was sent flying by the force, toppling several rows of soldiers before rolling to a stop beneath the carriage.

Bu Jingxian wiped the blood from his brow—the cut was not shallow, but thanks to his soul-cultivation’s extraordinary healing, the bleeding had already stopped, leaving only a scar.