Chapter Fifteen: Drunk on the Favorable Eastern Wind

The Silver Dragon Spear let out a low hum, and the General’s presence loomed as vast as a mountain. The force radiating from him struck Lanmu Tian Xingjian, ruffling his hair. In a fleeting moment of daze, the young man seemed to see the dragon’s head coiled around the Silver Dragon Spear lift up and roar toward the front.

Was it merely an illusion? Or had the silver dragon on the General’s spear truly come to life?

The youth could not discern the truth. He remembered when he first met Sun Longhu—how blood had surged and boiled around him. Perhaps the martial arts and sorcery of this era could disturb the hearts of ordinary people, making them see strange and terrifying visions.

Zhong Ming had never encountered such powers, nor did he understand the mysteries within; he could only explain it to himself this way.

“Yang Yanlang, you have fallen from the post of the Third Divine General of New Tang to this, and yet you show no remorse. Clearly, you have never understood your situation,” said Lanmu Tian Xingjian, his answer evading the question. His face was as expressionless as a clay idol, betraying no emotion—only those blue eyes grew deeper, the icy blue gradually tinged with violet.

A smile played at the General’s lips. He twisted the spear, and the dragon’s song sounded again. The tip of the Silver Dragon Spear shot out several deep azure afterimages, which struck the icicles.

The icicles shattered with a crisp sound, scattering blue fragments over Lanmu Tian Xingjian’s shoulders and hair.

At last, Lanmu Tian Xingjian’s expression changed. His deep blue eyes instantly faded, a slight twitch at the corner of his eyes, and a look of discomfiture flashed across his face.

Yang Yanlang smiled gently, drew back his spear, and said, “No matter how far I fall, I, Yang Yanlang, am no tiger cowed by dogs after leaving the mountain.”

“You won’t be arrogant for long. When my master arrives, let’s see if you can still laugh,” Lanmu Tian Xingjian snorted coldly, knowing he was no match for the General and unwilling to humiliate himself further. A gust of cold wind rose, blue light shot from his crown, and he vanished into the distance.

The blue light sped across several streets and disappeared into the Tian family estate.

Slowly, the temperature in the great hall rose again, and Tian Xingjian lowered his head, his expression unreadable.

The young man could see clearly: the visitor had left. Although the blue-eyed man had borrowed Tian Xingjian’s body, Zhong Ming knew that was not the young master’s will. It was likely, as the elders said, some art of spirit possession or a god descending into a mortal form.

But there was one thing he did not understand. He whispered, “Uncle, that man was so arrogant—why let him go?”

Yang Yanlang gazed at the sky outside, where the clouds parted and sunlight returned, and sighed, “He cannot be killed. If this little Immortal Official dies, the realm of New Tang will be thrown into chaos.”

Zhong Ming was baffled. With his understanding of the times, he could not make sense of the General’s words. Could it be that the legendary celestial palace that fell from the sky three years prior truly housed living immortals?

Was this land no longer under human control, but subject to the will of immortals who determined the rise and fall of courts and the fate of mortals?

Such a wild thought arose in the youth’s heart, only to dissipate as quickly. In the end, these matters had nothing to do with him. He turned instead to the shifting clouds outside the hall, thinking, “As long as I live well here and now, what are palaces and fortunes of the immortals to a boy from Muddy Village like me?”

Yang Yanlang said no more. His gaze drifted into the distance, thoughtful.

After some time, Tian Xingjian slowly raised his head, his eyes clear once more, his composure restored.

The young master smiled as if nothing had happened, cupped his hands, and said to Yang Yanlang, “Such courage, Lord Yang. I am deeply impressed!”

Yang Yanlang glanced at him, his face stern and silent.

Tian Xingjian did not mind. He smiled and said, “Since this matter is beyond my control, I shall take my leave.”

“Get out!” Yang Yanlang spat the word, his anger undisguised.

Tian Xingjian’s face clouded immediately. With a forced smile, he saluted and strode away, snapping open his folding fan as he went.

At the gate of the county office, he called out in a loud voice, “In my life I have commanded ten thousand troops, yet now wander destitute among men…”

Hearing the verse, the young man was instantly incensed. Tian Xingjian truly was a gentleman to one’s face, a scoundrel behind one’s back.

The young master was certain the General dared not kill him and recited poetry to mock the General’s fallen state.

Indignant on his uncle’s behalf, the youth retorted, “The wild branches are not yet tinged with yellow, but leaning on the east wind, they grow wild. Dust from flying blossoms veils the sun and moon, not knowing that the world holds its own frost.”

The recitation outside the office halted abruptly. The young qilin of Luoyang, Tian Xingjian, famed for his poetry, had today met someone with even greater literary talent and was deeply wounded in pride.

The battles between scholars were silent wars, their intensity unnoticed by outsiders.

Yang Yanlang, born of noble lineage and no mere warrior, understood every word.

Hearing his nephew’s poem, Yang Yanlang laughed heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well done, my boy! What a line—‘leaning on the east wind, they grow wild!’”

His voice rang louder with the next words, “That little qilin of Luoyang is nothing special. You gave just two lines, yet my nephew could finish with four. The legend of the prodigy is but a legend!”

There was no further sound outside; the young master, unable to endure the slight, had already left.

Though the youth had seized the opportunity, he had vented his uncle’s anger and felt a deep satisfaction.

Thus ended the contest: immortal official against general, prodigy against the youth of later generations.

The immortal official lost; the prodigy was defeated.

...

During the divine clash, those nearby had scarcely dared to breathe. Now that the immortal was gone, they returned to their senses.

The obese county magistrate crawled out from under the table, eyes wide as beans, muttering, “Gone? The immortal is gone?”

When he looked at Yang Yanlang again, his fear deepened. How could he dare provoke the former general who had faced down an immortal?

The other constables and yamen runners scrambled to their feet, not daring so much as a glance at the General, only praying he would not vent his anger on them.

Madam Wu, dazed, began to wail and lament in the courtyard once more.

The head of the Wu family, having lost his support, knelt trembling on the ground.

Seeing this, Sun Longhu stepped forward, took the Silver Dragon Spear from Yang Yanlang, and asked, “My lord, how shall we deal with this criminal?”

“Take him out and behead him at the east gate at once. Hang his corpse for thirty days; do not allow its removal before then. Any who attempt to steal the body shall be executed as accomplices!” Yang Yanlang’s tone left no room for argument as he waved his white robe.

“By your command!” Sun Longhu sheathed his broadsword, dragged the paralyzed Wu family head outside.

When Madam Wu saw her husband about to be executed, she wailed all the louder, but Sun Longhu shouted, “Wretched woman, enough of your racket! Make another scene here and I’ll drag you out and execute you as well, so you may join your husband as a pair of desperate mandarin ducks!”

The General did not stop him, tacitly approving.

The young man clapped his hands in delight, calling out, “Your Wu family has long bullied the weak and oppressed the helpless. If you had known this day would come, why act so in the past?”

The Wu family head was dragged to the east gate and executed. Madam Wu dared not cry further; seeing none would help her, she slunk away from the yamen, not even daring to retrieve her son’s body.

In truth, the Wu family was also somewhat wronged—Yang Yanlang knew this with perfect clarity.

Tian Xingjian’s behavior in the hall today had been strange; to put it bluntly, he had come looking for trouble.

He had deliberately provoked Yang Yanlang, hoping to draw out the immortal official hidden in his home and give the General a show of force.

The reasons behind it were complex. The General’s fall to a mere border captain was closely tied to White Jade Capital.

Now that the Wu family affair had become a conflict between the General and White Jade Capital, the General had no choice but to execute the Wu family head to assert his determination to hold his last line of defense.

Had he yielded further, his official position would have been the least of his losses—the court itself might have fallen into chaos, leaving Elder Qin with no foothold.

If Elder Qin truly lost his place, the Li family’s rule over the realm would be in jeopardy.

The sovereign and Elder Qin were barely holding on. If the sovereign lost Elder Qin’s support, whether the New Tang dynasty would forever belong to the Li or the Bai family would become an open question.

Thinking of this, Yang Yanlang sighed again. He noticed the corpse of the constable Wu and, moved by compassion, said to the magistrate, “Please see that the body of this Constable Wu is returned to his family and that his family is not deprived of their due pension. We serve New Tang in public office—let not the people speak ill of us.”

The magistrate hurried to his feet, replying, “I will carry out your orders at once.”

Immediately, he had yamen runners carry out the body and set aside the proper funds from the treasury for the Wu family.

With these matters settled, Yang Yanlang turned to Zhong Ming, his expression much softened. “Zhong Ming, you may attend to your business now. I’ll wait for you outside.”

The General’s mood was clearly low; he did not wish to be further involved in the trivial matter of land distribution, so with a wave of his sleeve, he strode out of the yamen.

Once Yang Yanlang had left, the county magistrate, who had sharp ears, did not miss the word “uncle.” As soon as the General departed, he asked, “Master Zhong, may I ask, what is your relation to Captain Yang?”

The young man saw through the magistrate’s scheming at once and replied in a clear voice, “Uncle Yang was sworn brother to my father. Our bond is as close as that of uncle and nephew.”

“I thought as much! No wonder Master Zhong is so clever—a dragon among men, destined for greatness. Indeed, you come from a noble family,” the magistrate fawned, his address shifting from “young man” to “Master Zhong,” revealing his skill at flattery and currying favor.

No doubt his rise to power was due in no small part to such talents.

The youth wished to speak no further with this cunning official and answered with a mere smile. He produced the registry from his sleeve and handed it over, saying, “Lord Magistrate, I am here today to discuss the matter of land distribution.”

“Ah! That matter was settled earlier. You are a little late, Master Zhong.” Then, changing his tune, the magistrate’s small eyes narrowed with a grin. “But I have already set aside excellent fields for you. I’ll have the scribe record them for you at once.”

“My thanks to the magistrate for your consideration.”

Knowing full well the magistrate was playing his little games, the youth did not expose him. The magistrate’s words were for him to hear, but he paid them no mind.

The magistrate took the registry and handed it to the skinny scribe, declaring loudly, “The hundred acres of prime land east of the city shall be allotted to Muddy Village, distributed equally by headcount. Even the children are to receive their share.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll see to it at once,” the scribe replied, though he secretly bemoaned his fate. The hundred acres of prime land east of the city had been allocated that very morning—Riverbank Village had paid a fortune in silver to secure them. Now, with a single word from the magistrate, the allocation must be changed, and it would be he who would have to smooth things over and negotiate anew.