THE ASSASSIN'S PRIZE was within his grasp. As the point of the sword grazed his target's forehead, he was already imagining the sharp crack of the man's skull beneath his blade. This sword was capable of shattering stone and cleaving metal; no matter how hard a man's skull, it would be fragile as paper under the unconquerable power of a first-class sword infused with true qi.
The assassin had at first been reluctant to kill this ailing man who lacked the strength to truss a chicken. But he'd received categorical orders from his superiors: if the invalid kept his life, the assassin's would be forfeit.
In the next moment there would be a sword jutting from between this man's brows. Fresh blood would pour from the wound and a line of crimson would trickle from his nose. It was obvious from the man's sickly pallor that he'd been ill for years—but this only meant the contrast between his vivid blood and his pale corpse would be all the more pleasing to the eye.
The assassin thought all this happily as his sword sliced down. He'd witnessed such scenes far too many times, but the handsome, pale features of this man Cui managed to awaken a new and heady anticipation in him.
Yet his long-awaited prize was snatched from him by a single hand.
The assassin's eyes widened as he stared at the hand that had appeared out of nowhere. It was strong yet slender, the nails neatly trimmed, its form pleasant, its skin fair. Had this been any other day, the assassin would have loved to sever this particular hand and preserve it. If he used the right methods, he could admire it for a few days before disposing of it.
But just then he was in no mood to appreciate this hand that had become his bane. Two fingers unfurled, the movement as effortless as plucking a flower or picking up a brush. There was a deafening clang, and the sword trembled—the blade once capable of shattering stone and cleaving metal snapped cleanly in two.
The assassin's face showed his disbelief, but his response was immediate. He'd flirted with the boundary between life and death for years and had long ago developed a keen instinct for danger. He leapt back, evading the palm strike that followed the breaking of his sword. But there was no escape—the newcomer pursued him relentlessly, white robes billowing. Though he was bare-handed, he was more than a match for the assassin and his shattered blade. Two silhouettes interwove, their moves so quick they blurred into each other. True qi surged around them, knocking onlookers to the ground and scattering them screaming in all directions.
The previously jam-packed courtyard emptied in seconds. The few remaining novices had all taken shelter behind pillars, and Abbot Cui himself appeared scared stiff—he'd collapsed onto a reed cushion and remained there, motionless.
The assassin could tell at a glance that he was nowhere near this newcomer's match. He gritted his teeth and made a decision. Hoping to delay his opponent for at least a few breaths, he hurled the broken sword with all his might.
Those scant seconds weren't enough to make his escape; the assassin instead chose to leap toward the man sitting on the cushion. He moved with incredible speed, his dark form a smudge of shadow. In an instant he would reach his target. Abbot Cui's eyes widened slightly, and he braced his hands against the ground as if to stand. But he was too gripped with terror to dodge, and the wind from the assassin's onrushing palm already brushed his face.
"Traitor! Prepare to die a horrible death!"
Perhaps it was the pressure of the palm strike, or perhaps those hateful words had left him petrified with fear. Abbot Cui's face paled even further, and a cough spilled from his lips.
Just when it seemed the abbot would meet his end, the assassin's movements ground to a halt, and his entire body froze as his face twisted in a savage sneer. He looked down at the broken blade jutting from his chest, the steel stained with blood. It gleamed in silent mockery, cursing him to a restless death.
Feng Xiao lifted the toe of his boot, and the assassin's body was sent flying into the nearby passageway. He stared down at the bloodstain on the ground. Finally, he skirted around it and arrived before Abbot Cui, who was still frightened out of his wits.
"So you're Cui Buqu?" Feng Xiao loomed over the abbot, his back to the light and his eyes fixed on the man as if interrogating a criminal.
The novices finally returned to their senses and stumbled over. Cui Buqu coughed lightly as the young Daoists helped him to his feet. He straightened his robes and looked squarely at Feng Xiao. "Indeed, this one is Cui Buqu. Many thanks to this distinguished master for the rescue. May I ask your esteemed name?"
Feng Xiao walked up the steps. With the bright sunlight no longer casting his features in shadow, the handsome beauty of his face was revealed.
Cui Buqu had traveled far and wide across the land. The number of people he'd met surpassed the number of rice grains he'd eaten, yet Feng Xiao still left him stunned. But this man's gaze was razor-sharp, so piercing it seemed almost tangible. It felt to Cui Buqu as if those eyes were burning twin holes into his body.
"Distinguished Master, has this Cui said something to offend you? If that's the case, I must beg your forgiveness. I am deeply grateful to you for saving my life."
"Why was he trying to kill you?"
Cui Buqu shook his head. "I didn't know him."
"Right before he died, he called you a traitor."
"And yet I've never seen him before. I haven't a clue why he said that. Perhaps he mistook me for someone else."
Feng Xiao sneered. "Zixia Monastery is not the only monastery in Liugong City, nor are you the only Daoist priest. How is it that he mistook you, and not someone else?"
Cui Buqu's expression also cooled. "The distinguished master should ask that man. How should I know?"
"The dead cannot speak, so I must question the living. Guards!"
The moment Feng Xiao spoke, seven or eight men poured in and surrounded everyone in the courtyard. Two came forward to seize Cui Buqu, while their companions rounded up the novices. There was neither struggle nor resistance—the maneuver was carried out as painlessly as blowing away dust.
"Who do you think you are! Can you arrest someone without cause?!" Cui Buqu cried angrily. "Does Great Sui have no law and order?!"
"That's right. I can arrest anyone I find suspicious. You want to know who I am?" Feng Xiao took a step forward and grasped Cui Buqu's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I'll say this once, so remember it well: I am Feng Xiao of the Jiejian Bureau."
***
When Emperor Wen of Sui took the throne, he appointed the Three Ducal Ministers, then established the Three Departments and Six Ministries. He enacted new laws and proclaimed a general amnesty. This emperor had seen the flames of war smoldering between the Central Plains and the Göktürks, as well as Goguryeo and its neighbors to the west. In these volatile times, he'd established the Jiejian Bureau to support him from the shadows.
Like the Six Ministries, the Jiejian Bureau answered only to the emperor. Though their duties were confidential, the power they wielded was immense. The three bureau chiefs were seen as equal to the Six Ministers in authority, and during times of crisis, it was their prerogative to act first and report later.
Within the Jiejian Bureau was an item known as the Jiejian-shi, or Sword-Relieving Stone, which had been placed there by the emperor of Sui himself. Anyone entering the bureau, regardless of position, rank, or seniority—up to and including the princes themselves—had to remove their swords before this stone. This was a mark of the Jiejian Bureau's special status.
On this occasion, a Khotanese ambassador had come to pay tribute in the Central Plains. It was an event of great significance, and the court feared foreign interference. The emperor had ordered the elites of the Jiejian Bureau to escort the envoy to the capital, and thus Feng Xiao had personally set out. He never imagined he'd be one step behind: by the time he arrived, the envoy had been murdered outside Liugong City, and a mysterious woman had vanished from the entourage along with the tribute list.
Since the culprit behind the murders had taken the tribute list, it stood to reason that they also took one of the items on the list.
Khotan possessed many beautiful jades; most of their treasures were crafted from this precious stone. Feng Xiao was a member of the Jiejian Bureau, and it was his business to be familiar with the many wonders scattered throughout the land. He'd of course heard of Khotan's natural treasure, the Jade of Heaven Lake. It was no great leap to surmise that the missing tribute was this same legendary jade.
Yet this made an already complex case more confounding. If the objective was the jade, then the murderer was motivated by riches. Perhaps they had plotted this for a long time. They were possibly a Göktürk, but they might also be someone using the Göktürks as a smokescreen. While he and Pei Jingzhe awaited a response from the men they'd dispatched to Khotan, Feng Xiao had turned his gaze to Liugong City—and to Abbot Cui, who'd risen to fame two months ago.
"Might this one inquire what kind of jianghu sect this 'Jiejian Bureau' is? I am possessed of neither power nor riches, and rarely have any dealings with wanderers from the jianghu. When, pray tell, did I offend you?"
The Jiejian Bureau guards had dragged Cui Buqu back to Qiushan Manor. Feng Xiao hadn't tortured him for answers, nor had he locked him up—he didn't need to. Cui Buqu was an ordinary man who knew nothing of martial arts.
Presently, he sat across a small table from Feng Xiao. There was even a pot of tea steaming in front of him. The atmosphere was that of two friends reminiscing about the past, a complete contrast to the earlier scene of drawn daggers pressed to throats. The about-face left Cui Buqu somewhat bewildered, as if the previous attempted assassination, rescue, interrogation, and arrest were all no more than a dream.
"You're a disciple of Liuli Palace of Fangzhang Isle. How could you not know of the Jiejian Bureau?"
From his sleeve, Feng Xiao fished out an exquisite jade token about two fingers wide and tossed it down in front of Cui Buqu. "We found this under your pillow. I trust Abbot Cui will no longer play dumb?"
Liuli Palace of Fangzhang Isle was a lone sect near the coast, remote and independent. Their disciples didn't involve themselves in the debts and favors of the jianghu, and most of their fame came from recording the annals and tales of its martial arts circles. Rumor had it that they also took in many exiles who had fled the Central Plains for one reason or another. The disciples of Liuli Palace were familiar with all major events across the land. If Cui Buqu was one of them, he would have heard of the Jiejian Bureau no matter how secret its existence.
Cui Buqu sighed. "I'll be honest. It's true I've heard of the Jiejian Bureau, but I'm only a common scholar. I've never had any run-ins with the government before. Affecting ignorance saves me some trouble. Moreover, you're mistaken. I'm not myself a disciple of Liuli Palace, though I have a senior who's a Liuli Palace consultant and studied political strategy from the Spring and Autumn period. He's given me no little guidance over the years and entrusted me with this jade token so I might visit him freely."
Feng Xiao raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you study politics and strategy? You're a Daoist, yet you went to learn the art of debate? Don't you feel you've brought shame to your forefathers?"
Unperturbed, Cui Buqu asked, "What would you have me do? Daoists still need to eat. If I were less eloquent, how could Zixia Monastery have become what it is today?"
"Who is Qin Miaoyu to you?"
Cui Buqu was baffled. "Who?"
"A Khotanese envoy was murdered, and his favored concubine Qin Miaoyu has vanished. Before she married, Lady Qin was a resident of Liugong City, and was often seen offering incense at Yufo Temple and Zixia Monastery. Two months ago, you appeared at Zixia Monastery and single-handedly revived it. You could have gone to any sizable monastery and done well with your abilities. Why pick Zixia Monastery specifically?"
Feng Xiao's manner was aggressive, and as he spoke, he leaned in until he was mere inches from Cui Buqu, so close Cui Buqu could feel Feng Xiao's breath fanning his cheeks. Cui Buqu frowned, as if he wanted to draw back, but Feng Xiao grabbed him by the shoulder and held him in place.
"Cold plum blossom fragrance." Feng Xiao's nose was nearly pressed to Cui Buqu's neck. He inhaled, then continued in a soft voice: "This fragrance on you is the same that was within Yuchi Jinwu's carriage. What is your relationship to his concubine? Or did you disguise yourself as a woman and kill him?"
Cui Buqu was so angry he laughed. "With my looks, even if I dressed as a woman I fear no one would believe me! The distinguished master would be far more enchanting and glamorous in such a disguise. As for this plum blossom scent, there were an incredible number of worshippers at the monastery today. I have no idea how many I met and spoke to; it's no surprise if someone's fragrance lingered on me."
Feng Xiao studied him. Cui Buqu was strenuously defending his innocence, and it was true that Feng Xiao had no evidence. But Cui Buqu's responses were far too calm—that was the most suspicious thing about him.
What had Cui Buqu done before arriving at Zixia Monastery? Where had he come from? And why was he involved with Liuli Palace of Fangzhang Isle? Too many things about this man were murky, impossible to grasp.
"It seems that no matter what, Abbot Cui refuses to tell the truth."
Feng Xiao extended a hand and gave Cui Buqu a sharp shove; caught off-guard, Cui Buqu fell backward.
As for Feng Xiao, he rose and dusted off his hands and clothes, as if afraid Cui Buqu would sully him. He asked, "Do you know why I brought you to this house?"