Yang Jingming saw that the young man had breathed his last, and bending over, he tore open his garment.
Indeed, a few inches below the neck, a red maple leaf was tattooed, now dyed with fresh blood, appearing animate and eerily enchanting. He sneered coldly to himself, thinking indeed it was as expected. Concerned not to involve the young man beside him, he refrained from saying the three words 'Danfeng Valley' aloud.
His thoughts in disarray, Yang Jingming closed the young man's garment and stood up, putting away his knife. He then turned to Wang Anfeng and, with folded hands, said,
"Thank you, young brother, for your assistance. We will take it from here."
"However, since this involves a murder case, we will later require your cooperation. Please let us know where we can find you."
Wang Anfeng had already wiped the blood off his sword and sheathed it back with a reverse grip. He responded with folded hands,
"If there's any matter, feel free to look for me in the Wind Character Tower of Fufeng Academy. My name is Wang Anfeng, and I am always there."
Upon hearing the name Wang Anfeng, Yang Jingming did not recognize it; he was no longer of the age where young men refuse to admit defeat easily, and his interest in the Constellation Ranking List was minimal. However, the mention of the Wind Character Tower in the Fufeng Academy made an impression on him, and he suddenly smiled and said,
"So you are a disciple of Fufeng, truly living up to your reputation, a young hero indeed."
"In a few years, I believe you, Brother Wang, will make a name for yourself in the Jianghu. When that day comes and you ride out with your whip cracking, it will be an honor to have witnessed your youthful vigor."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the constable had finished processing the scene, and he gave Wang Anfeng a small bow with folded hands, saying,
"There are still some matters to attend to here, but we shall meet again another time."
The party had only taken a few steps when Wang Anfeng called out to stop them. Yang Jingming, puzzled, turned back and smiled,
"Is there anything else you wish, Brother Wang?"
Wang Anfeng pursed his lips and said,
"May I join you and the other arrest officers in your tasks?"
"Although my cultivation has not reached the Eighth Rank, I consider myself to have rigorously practiced swordsmanship. Should we encounter trouble, I promise not to be a burden."
Yang Jingming looked startled and exchanged glances with Wu Xiong, both detecting the shock in each other's eyes.
To them, it was already extraordinary for such a young student to rise to the occasion during danger, keeping his fear at bay. Now that he was willing to voluntarily engage in such perilous affairs, it was no wonder they were astonished.
As for him being a burden, that was out of the question.
They had already witnessed the young man's skills. Although they were some distance away and it was dim, not fully seeing how he had taken down the assassin, his subsequent sword strike was seen closely by both. His swift and stable technique earned the phrase 'a swan sword darting with grace.'
Yang Jingming was slightly moved by the offer, but he couldn't agree so readily to such a task, no matter how minor, especially since there were certain issues to be cautious of. His hesitation evident, Wu Xiong, bearing a spear, readily agreed,
"Brother Wang, since you have this wish, we would be more than glad to have you join us."
"We patrol the streets every day. If you're interested, just wait here at sunset tomorrow."
Yang Jingming was dumbfounded, but since he was just a helping ranger and Wu Xiong was the team leader of the street constables, he kept his doubts to himself, not voicing them until they had left the street and were heading rapidly towards the yamen. Only when the young man was out of sight did he speak out his confusion.
Wu Xiong suddenly burst into hearty laughter and said,
"Brother Yang's thoughts are valid, but this person cannot possibly be fake."
"He is a talent from our Fufeng County, listed on the Constellation Ranking List, unrivaled among his peers in swordsmanship."
"He is known as the Guardian of Fufeng's Hidden Books."
Yang Jingming was astonished, unable to find words thinking of the unassuming young man with a wooden sword on his back he had seen before.
Meanwhile, back at the scene of the incident.
Wang Anfeng, having personally ended a life, wore a slightly complex expression.
When did it become that killing a person was even swifter than slaughtering a pig?
Though he had wiped the bloodstains from the longsword clean, the odor of blood still lingered in his nostrils.
Had he truly wiped it clean?
Once someone's been killed, could it ever be wiped away completely?
As for joining the martial artists on patrol, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had been contemplating it since this afternoon, but it was only after he had encountered the assassin and taken the initiative to stop him that he'd finally made up his mind.
The previous deputy chief arrestor had warned him not to get involved.
Yet, he found himself unable to stand by idly. Even though he knew there was danger, he still intervened on his own accord.
A single careless move, and you're caught up in Jianghu.
Entangled in grievances and vendettas, unknowingly drawn in, and unable to extricate oneself.
Wang Anfeng sighed silently.
Right at that moment, his drooping right hand suddenly rose, swift as lightning, to seize the wrist of the person in front, stopping their motion.
The young man looked at the other.
The person looked back at the youth.
Observing his blue shirt and untroubled features, serious expression as if he was as earnest as he had been when drawing his sword against an enemy, he said,
"Auntie, I'd like extra spicy for this bowl."
"Ah yes, alright, let go and I'll add it for you," the vendor said. "But let me tell you, young hero, our chili is very fierce."
"Be careful when you eat."
The vendor sighed in resignation, agreed, and scooped up a large spoonful of chili to pour into the young man's bowl. The moment it hit the soup, it spread throughout, mingling with finely chopped green onions, tripe, and liver, all stained with chili oil; the aroma was so enticing that the youth's eyes lit up with anticipation, and his stomach growled with hunger.
With cautious hands, he cradled the white porcelain bowl; its glaze was smooth to the touch, clearly a well-worn object, with a small chip on the rim. Holding the bowl, he inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance, then opened his mouth to take a generous sip.
The rich and delicious taste filled his heart, and the youth's brows and eyes curved slightly in contentment.
To hell with Jianghu, to hell with grievances.
No grudge in Jianghu can compare to the warm, pure white mutton soup bought with five Copper Coins right before his eyes.
Murong Tong watched the youth, sitting on the long bench, eagerly devouring the mutton soup, as if he were admiring a solid gold leg, thick and intimidating, gleaming brightly. The owner had placed his portion of mutton soup before him, also topped with chili oil, and respectfully withdrew.
Murong Tong waved his hand dismissively, while the coachman took out the necessary Silver from within his garment, and placed it in the vendor's hands. It was the Silver that prompted the vendor to cater to them even under such circumstances.
Murong Tong looked down at the offal materials which he would usually never touch, at the lamb's blood and tripe tumbling in the broth, swallowing hard. Having grown up spoiled and never lacking for refined food, he had never eaten these offal scraps used by butchers and laborers to satisfy their cravings.
But seeing the joyous youth on the other side, he still picked up his chopsticks, his hands shaky as they stretched into the bowl, his heart filled with the resolve of someone facing death.
For the sake of his life-saving benefactor…
I, Murong Tong, am about to eat this depraved food!
PS: Offering the second update...
Thanks to fisher慢渔夫 for the generous reward, thank you