Chapter 19: Changing Profession to Messenger of Calamity
Three days later, in Chang’an, at the residence of the Duke of Jin, within the Broken Blade Hall.
The Broken Blade Hall was where Medicine Master Mo Ke of the Jin Duke House practiced swordsmanship. Its name means “when the blade breaks, rest,” with dozens or hundreds of broken blades displayed inside, a testament to Mo Ke’s rigorous training in the past.
However, since he became regent and was busy with state affairs, he had not set foot in the hall for years—until three years ago, when Medicine Master Wen requisitioned it to establish the Embroidered Guard; the hall once again echoed with the clang of steel.
The Embroidered Guard was not an official institution of the Great Zhou, and few in Chang’an even knew of its existence; Mo Ke himself didn’t take it seriously. It was solely Medicine Master Wen’s ambition to cultivate hidden loyalists that drove the effort.
Using her father’s wealth and resources, Medicine Master Wen quickly built the Embroidered Guard into a formidable force. Great Zhou lacked hidden talents, not outstanding horses—but lacked someone like Bo Le to recognize them.
Medicine Master Wen simply provided a ladder for social ascent, and countless people scrambled to climb it.
As of today, the lowest rank, the “Iron Embroidery,” numbered 220; the first rank, “Copper Embroidery,” had 16; and the second rank, “Silver Embroidery,” comprised three members—already a considerable force around Chang’an.
Now, the three Silver Embroideries knelt in the Broken Blade Hall, faces flushed with shame, unable to look at the leader who had elevated them.
“Three days ago, you said that within three days you'd find the spy in Anguo Temple,” Medicine Master Wen said calmly. “Now that three days have passed, and you still have no lead?”
“Commander,” the Silver Embroidery said, “we checked the list of monks at Anguo Temple over the past year. Apart from a forty‑year‑old monk transferred from the county three months ago, and three monks who passed away this year, there were no other changes—no suspicious newcomers.”
“Any suspect activity?”
The Silver Embroideries exchanged glances and said, “There is something, but I don’t know…”
“Speak!”
“We discovered that every so often, several nobles visit the temple at night and stay until the next day. Among them, the Duke of Qin visited most frequently, followed by the Princess‑her‑Highness of Qianjin Commandery, the Earl of Huairen County, and others.”
“Do you have a record?”
They hurriedly handed over a list. Medicine Master Wen glanced at it—it listed names and the number of late‑night visits.
The most frequent was Medicine Master Zhi, Duke of Qin, who had visited ten times in the past six months.
Medicine Master Wen knew him well—a greedy, ruthless scoundrel; but fortunately, he was the younger half‑brother of the current emperor. If Medicine Master Zhi’s visits weren’t enough for concern, the list also included heavyweights like Yuwen Xuan, Li Bao, and Helan Ken—each notorious for bravery and cruelty. Such a gathering never boded well.
Yet at the end of the list was a name she knew all too well—
“Duke of Jin, once.”
At that moment, Medicine Master Wen suddenly recalled a conversation from a year ago.
The Embroidered Guard had received rumors that Anguo Temple was involved in trafficking.
Medicine Master Wen thought it an opportunity to strike against Buddhism, and enthusiastically brought it up with her father.
Her father sternly warned her to drop all investigations into the temple—or he would withdraw support for the Embroidered Guard.
After a brief silence, Medicine Master Wen placed the list on the table by a long‑burning candle. She waited until the paper burned to ashes before she calmly said, “You may leave.”
The Silver Embroideries, as if granted amnesty, quickly departed.
Medicine Master Wen turned and looked at the ceremonial blade placed highest in the Broken Blade Hall.
It was the only unbroken blade in the hall—the weapon he carried in his first battle.
The blade was stained with rust and wounds, its edges jagged—a testament to the brutality of Mo Ke’s first fight.
In the past, seeing that blade filled her with respect, for it symbolized her father’s bravery; but now, all she saw was its wear, decay, and fall from grace.
“Father, I will not allow the Medicine family to be ashamed.”
She pronounced each word slowly: “I absolutely will not.”
Once back in her courtyard, Medicine Master Wen summoned two maidservants to apply makeup and bind her chest.
When they finished, she looked nothing like her former self—overlays of inner padding and plated armor concealed her body’s curves, and she now appeared to be a rugged young man, travel‑worn.
For the theft operation, she had to show her face—so as long as she hid her real identity, it would create the perfect info gap. If she could confirm the identities of the other three, the Thieves’ House would be hers!
First the Thieves’ House, then Chang’an; then Great Zhou—until the world… was cradled in the palm of her hand!
And the first step was to inherit the ancestral blade of Zhou’s Founding Emperor: the Bingzi Pepper Forest!
Silently chanting “Thieves’ House,” Medicine Master Wen disappeared from her room.
…
…
Buye Tian City.
Ying Ru Shi sat in a carriage headed to the imperial palace. But they had not gone far when it stopped. The driver said: “County Lord, there is a carriage blocking the road ahead.”
"Avoid him."
"Tried that, but whenever I try to go around, he follows. He’s deliberately blocking our way."
Ying Ru Shi lifted the curtain, and at the same moment, the person in the carriage ahead also lifted his curtain and looked back. The two locked eyes from a distance. The man put on a false smile. "County Lord of Lecheng, what a coincidence. You’re heading to see His Majesty too? Shall this commoner make way for you?"
"Indeed, Master Yu," Ying Ru Shi replied calmly. "If Master Yu has urgent matters, please go ahead."
The one blocking her—a royal county lord—was a performer named Yu Sun. Yet whether by his carriage or his retinue, Yu Sun appeared far more distinguished than her. He even dared to block her path, and Ying Ru Shi couldn’t say a word about it.
All this was because Yu Sun was the favored singer the emperor often summoned to accompany his pipa playing. The emperor’s favor was so strong that even the prime minister or a powerful prince would not dare offend him.
Unfortunately, Yu Sun’s nephew had run rampant in Pingcheng, forcibly taking a commoner woman. Ying Ru Shi had witnessed it and killed him. Since then, Yu Sun bore a grudge against her and frequently spoke ill of her to the emperor. This had left Ying Ru Shi stuck at the rank of County Lord.
She could only avoid Yu Sun at every turn. Even now, humiliated by him, she showed no anger and chose to yield.
But this was the extent of Yu Sun’s petty revenge. He scolded his coachman to drive faster—he was in a hurry to enter the palace and await an audience.
Just then, the ground of Buye Tian trembled slightly.
A thunderous rumble of hooves echoed along the official road, with clouds of dust surging toward Yu Sun and Ying Ru Shi.
A war chariot barreled forward recklessly down the road, followed by dozens of heavily armored Ghostly Knights.
Even their horses wore linked heavy armor. Though only a few dozen in number, their arrival resembled a storm that shook the earth.
Atop the lead war chariot sat a woman with disheveled hair, her locks streaming in the wind—fiery tips flickering like a swarm of flaming snakes dancing in the air.
The war chariot didn’t even slow down upon seeing the carriages on the road—it rammed straight through. Ying Ru Shi’s carriage managed to dodge in time, but Yu Sun’s was smashed apart. He and his coachman were thrown into the air, though unharmed—within the capital, physical damage was nearly nullified.
Yu Sun hadn’t yet risen when a pair of slender hands grasped his head.
But Yu Sun screamed.
Because his face was sizzling like raw meat slapped onto a searing iron plate. Yet he didn’t dare struggle, only crying out repeatedly: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, I am Yu Sun, Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
The one recklessly driving the chariot through Buye Tian’s capital—was none other than the ruler of Qi, Ying Le.
She stared down at Yu Sun and asked, "Do you know what you did wrong?"
"W-what?"
"Do you know what you did wrong?"
"I—I deserve death! I shouldn’t have accepted bribes from Prince Gaoyang to speak on his behalf!"
"And what else?"
"I—I shouldn’t have asked Chancellor Yang to promote my son to official rank! Ahh, Your Majesty—"
Yu Sun’s cheeks were already beginning to char under the heat, yet Ying Le still held his face, expressionless. "What else?"
"I don’t know! I shouldn’t have murdered! I shouldn’t have slept with my sister-in-law! I shouldn’t have—ahhh!"
Yu Sun let out one last scream and collapsed, the flesh of his cheeks melting into greasy juices, exposing twisted teeth—he was barely breathing.
Ying Le held a bloody tongue in her hand—she had shoved her fingers into Yu Sun’s mouth, her heat acting like fiery pliers, instantly completing the sequence: seared → charred → severed. It looked as though she had torn out his tongue.
The nearby citizens had already fled indoors.
Those who hadn’t escaped knelt on the ground, trembling.
Even in Buye Tian’s divine-protected capital, none felt safe in the face of the Emperor of Qi.
"What a fine tongue," Ying Le kissed the severed tongue and sighed. "Shame it grew in a criminal’s mouth. I’ll miss your voice."
"County Lord of Lecheng."
She didn’t look at Ying Ru Shi, still focused on the tongue in her hand, and casually asked, "Do you know what he did wrong?"
Though her tone was light, as if chatting casually with a niece, Ying Ru Shi dared not lift her head.
A crushing malice surged toward her, invading every pore.
She stepped down from her carriage and knelt without hesitation. "Non-officials are not permitted to ride in carriages!"
"Indeed, that law was decreed by the late emperor. I liked him very much, but the law is the law. He wasn’t an official—so he couldn’t ride in a carriage."
Ying Le casually tucked the tongue into her robe, yanked the reins, and her two-man-tall black steed roared, pulling the steel chariot toward the city’s outskirts.
As she passed Ying Ru Shi, Ying Le offered a warm smile.
"Little Ru Shi, I’m looking forward to Bingzi Pepper Forest."
Ying Ru Shi remained kneeling on the ground until Ying Le’s convoy disappeared into the distance.
She looked at Yu Sun’s corpse not far away. Though her enemy lay dead before her, she felt no joy at all.
All she wanted now was to hurry to the Thieves’ House.
Even though it was full of strangers, it still felt easier to breathe there than in Buye Tian.
"Return to the residence."
…
…
Jiangnan City.
"Brother, do I look good?"
Shang Qiao looked up, and his eyes lit up upon seeing his sister.
She wasn’t dressed in the popular noble lady’s style, but more like a female Martial Messenger—short skirt layered under a long one for both movement and a girlish charm; her top paired with shoulder and wrist guards, topped with a snug-fitting light breastplate—efficient, sleek, and beautiful.
On her back, she carried two circular rings—her signature weapon: Mandarin Duck Rings.
"You look great!" Shang Qiao praised without reservation.
"Then I’m heading out!"
"Stay safe!"
He gave a casual reminder, then only after several seconds realized something. "Wait, where are you going fully armed like that!?"
By the time Shang Qiao ran outside, his sister Shang Xinlei was already nowhere to be found.
…
…
Thieves’ House.
Yan Qing watched the spirit jade in his hand crumble to dust.
Then he gripped the White Iron Straight Blade, took a deep breath, and swung the blade at the training dummy in the room.
Clang!
A Moonring Slash cut through, leaving a deep gash in the dummy—yet it regenerated in the next second.
Yan Qing exhaled deeply. Though this little bit of power wouldn’t change his current situation much,
"At last, I’ve become a Messenger."
At the final moment before the theft mission began, Yan Qing finally broke through the mortal limit—becoming a Messenger who could wield transcendent tokens!