Chapter 41: Only Myself

Chapter 41: Only Myself

"Mr. Zhao, you don't even know about this?"

At noon.

Inside the Donglaishun Mutton Restaurant, filled with travelers from near and far and redolent with the rich aroma of meat.

At a table by the window, Li Shoumin looked at Qin Yuan with a face full of astonishment.

As though Qin Yuan were some desperately ill-informed rustic.

"Less nonsense, out with it."

Qin Yuan pulled a long face, assuming the posture of an elder as he spoke.

One had to admit, this trick was remarkably effective.

Li Shoumin instantly shrank back, not daring to put on any more airs.

*I should definitely use this attitude on Li Shoumin's future sons, grandsons, great-grandsons...*

A thought of the utmost elder-like arrogance flashed through Qin Yuan's mind.

A moment later, Qin Yuan understood the situation.

This Mr. Zhao was a chief instructor at the Imperial Academy, and he had been one of the harshest critics, publicly berating Duan Hu and Feng Gou most severely before he suddenly disappeared a few days ago.

Nobody knew where he had gone.

"Why are there so many people who simply don't fear death?"

Qin Yuan frowned slightly.

"Uncle-master, um, what did you say?"

Li Shoumin, slurping a piece of tripe into his mouth, mumbled around the food.

"I said nothing."

"Then let's eat mutton. Eating instant-boiled mutton in autumn is such a pure joy."

Saying this, Li Shoumin shoved another tender roll of mutton into his mouth.

Infected by his ravenous, ghost-of-starvation-like eating demeanor, Qin Yuan picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a roll of mutton, and popped it into his mouth.

Delightfully fragrant.

Then Qin Yuan dropped a bombshell that left Li Shoumin completely dumbfounded: "I've already spoken with all the major book publishers and tabloid houses in the capital. They are not going to publish or sell your books for the time being."

After a stunned pause, Li Shoumin asked with a pitiful, aggrieved expression: "Why?"

"Look at what you've become."

Qin Yuan said with a darkened expression.

Before him, Li Shoumin had a receding hairline, thinning hair, severe dark circles, bloodshot eyes, sudden weight gain, heavy breathing, chapped lips, acne, and dry, sagging skin. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought he was forty.

At this rate, if he even managed to live to fifty, he'd be doing well.

And if he carelessly contracted some incurable disease, his end wouldn't be any better than his old man's.

Li Shoumin fell silent, unable to retort.

"I know. You want your wife, born to a wealthy family, to live the way she used to. You want your three children to have a secure future. You want your pawnbroker father-in-law to look at you with respect. But have you ever thought about what would happen if you died?"

At this point, Qin Yuan stood up. "This is the last time I will advise you. Take care of yourself."

Without looking back, he strode out of the Donglaishun Mutton Restaurant.

He hadn't even walked the length of a single street.

When he ran right into a funeral procession coming in the opposite direction.

Among the mourners clad in hemp and mourning filial piety was surprisingly Little Ah-Qiao, now quite advanced in years.

Could the person who died be—?

Qin Yuan swept his gaze toward the coffin.

Ah, blocked completely from his sight.

Spiritual perception swept out like ripples.

The person lying inside was none other than the legendary "Beancurd Diaochan."

Recalling how, more than twenty years ago, he used to eat at Beancurd Diaochan's stall and watch the customers playfully tease her, it felt as though it had all happened just yesterday.

"There is nothing in this world that time cannot wear away, except for me."

Qin Yuan felt a touch of desolation, mingled with a quiet sense of pride.

The murmur of the surrounding passersby drifted into his ears.

Only then did Qin Yuan learn that Beancurd Diaochan had been worked to death.

Besides a daughter, Beancurd Diaochan had left behind four sons.

All of them born one after another over the past few years.

To raise the children, she had to toil everywhere, day and night, without rest.

Her body had finally broken down.

After lying in bed for months, covered in bedsores, she had died in agonizing torment.

It was as if she had walked through the mortal world, yet as if she had never set foot here at all.

"Uncle Qin, you were right. I shouldn't burden myself with so much weight. Living my own life well is what matters most."

Li Shoumin's deep, resonant voice came from behind him.

Qin Yuan, who had sensed him approaching all along, turned around and smiled with gratification. "Glad you've figured it out."

Li Shoumin smiled back.

His youth seemed to have returned to him once more.

In the days that followed.

An undercurrent of tension began to roil beneath the surface of the capital.

Just when Qin Yuan thought another wave of protests against Duan Hu and Feng Gou was brewing, Duan Hu and Feng Gou started fighting each other first.

On the surface, the conflict was over supreme rule, but in reality, it stemmed from an uneven division of spoils.

When it came to cultivating and managing the demons, Feng Gou believed he had contributed far more effort and that his personal strength surpassed Duan Hu's.

Yet not only was his demon tribute share identical to Duan Hu's, but his actual status was relegated to second place beneath Duan Hu.

Their war erupted around the capital garrison region, dragging on from September of the eighth year of Gongzhi all the way to February of the ninth year of Gongzhi.

Just as everyone was groaning in misery, a piece of news reached Duan Hu that filled him with dread.

Feng Gou had died a sudden and violent death.

There had been not a single sign beforehand.

Inside the Funing Hall.

Duan Hu was covered in cold sweat.

This incident was tied beyond a shadow of a doubt to the *Classic of the Five Animals* scrolls.

Should he continue to practice the *Classic of the Five Animals*?

Suddenly, he smiled—a bitter, mocking smile.

He had almost forgotten: he had no choice at all.

From the moment the will of the *Classic of the Five Animals* had descended upon him years ago, his entire fate had already been sealed.

At that moment, a commotion erupted outside.

Though the distance was great, the sharp-eared and keen-eyed Duan Hu heard it clearly. He sprang up from the dragon throne.

In the blink of an eye, he appeared atop the city gate tower, where the autumn wind whipped fiercely and banners snapped in the air.

Below, thousands of commoners had gathered, among them quite a few martial artists and figures of mysterious origins.

"You lot have gathered here—what is your intention?"

His voice rang out with such force that it caused a buzzing in the ears of the people below.

Many of those lacking physical strength fainted on the spot.

"Demons are devouring humans, so why does the Grand General turn a blind eye?"

A middle-aged scholar with ordinary features stepped forward, head held high and stride bold.

Though Duan Hu had supplanted Wei Ting, his official title remained Grand General of the Imperial Guards.

"The imperial court has its own reasons for its actions; it is not something you people have the right to question."

He first rebuked them sternly, then added, "Did we not behead ten human-devouring demons just yesterday?"

In truth, the executed demons had merely failed to deliver their tribute on time.

"There are far more than ten demons eating people. The Grand General shields the demons so openly—could it be that the Grand General is a demon himself?"

The middle-aged man sneered.

Showing not the slightest bit of fear toward Duan Hu, who was hailed as the foremost martial artist of the present day.

"I remember you now. Your surname is Zhao, and your name is Zhao Luoting. I let you escape last time, yet you dare to return."

Killing intent surfaced on Duan Hu's face.

"Having mastered the dragon-slaying art, naturally I dare to return."

Duan Hu, who had raised his foot to step forward, pulled it back. He scrutinized Zhao Luoting for a moment and asked tentatively, "The dragon-slaying art?"

Zhao Luoting ignored him entirely, turned around, and simply walked away.

As if he had come merely to issue a warning.

Duan Hu desperately wanted to pursue him, yet he feared that this Zhao Luoting might actually possess some genuine dragon-slaying art.

In this day and age, there were simply too many people who were nobodies one day, only to become earth-shaking figures the next.

Seeing that the commoners were still standing below, refusing to leave.

He resorted to intimidation: "Night is falling soon. The demons will be coming out shortly. Hurry home."

"The demons are coming!"

"It's getting dark so fast..."

...

Many of the fainthearted turned and fled.

Public resolve dissolved in an instant.

Soon, the people standing beneath the city tower dwindled to a mere handful.

Duan Hu could not be bothered to look any further and turned to descend from the tower.

Among the sparse remaining crowd, Lin Dongze turned his head and said to the young Miss Yun, "This is no place to accomplish great things. I want to return to my hometown."

"I also think you should return to your hometown,"

Miss Yun said with a gentle smile.

A soulmate in life is hard to find, let alone one who is also a romantic partner.

It was nothing short of a blessing from the heavens.

Lin Dongze took a soft breath, pretending to be composed as he asked, "When we get back, I want to formally propose marriage to your family. What are your thoughts?"

"I am willing."

Miss Yun still wore a gentle smile.

A large hand enveloped a small hand.

They turned and walked in the exact opposite direction of the imperial palace, hand in hand, until they completely vanished into the distance.