Qin Mu heard the news and furrowed his brow slightly, glancing at the State Preceptor of Yankang beside him. The Preceptor showed a look of grief and said, "I should go to pay my respects at Prince Zhenbei's manor."
Qin Mu whispered, "Preceptor, why did Prince Zhenbei rebel?"
"He did not rebel against the Emperor. He rebelled against me for the sake of the Ling family's empire."
The State Preceptor of Yankang said softly, "My power has grown too great. It made him uneasy, fearing I would overthrow the Ling family's rule. You were right—I should start a family. One must have both righteousness and desire."
Qin Mu's expression grew strange.
Someone like the State Preceptor of Yankang starting a family? It was somewhat absurd, yet it was about to happen.
"I need to return to my manor first to change into plain clothes. Prince Zhenbei served the nation well. Although he disagreed with my ways, he was a man worthy of respect. I must pay my respects."
The State Preceptor parted ways with him, saying, "Once we reach the capital, you need not worry about my injuries."
Qin Mu nodded. The Preceptor had once been ambushed and severely wounded, but he had long since recovered—meaning there must be another divine physician by his side. Once they reached the capital, Qin Mu would no longer need to treat his wounds.
When the State Preceptor of Yankang returned to the Preceptor's Manor, he suddenly felt a sense of alertness. Instead of using the front gate, he leaped directly into the compound. Looking around, he saw that all the restrictions and seals within the manor were still intact.
He remained vigilant and called out in a deep voice, "Elder Fu? Yuanqing?"
No response came. The manor was eerily silent.
The State Preceptor walked inward. Upon reaching the main hall, he found the manor's servants and guards bound tightly and stacked together like a human pyramid.
The Preceptor frowned, then spotted Fu Yuanqing—the Little Poison King—stripped of his clothes, bound hand and foot, and hung from the ceiling of the hall. His tongue was pulled out, with a golden rope tied to it, and a heavy iron weight dangled from the rope below.
The State Preceptor frowned. A flash of sword light from his fingertip severed the golden rope and cut through the bonds on Fu Yuanqing's body. Fu Yuanqing fell heavily. Only then did the Preceptor realize that all his cultivation had been sealed—even the divine treasury within his body was completely suppressed, rendering him powerless.
The State Preceptor unsealed his seal and also unsealed the seals on the other servants and guards. His face darkened, he asked, "What happened?"
"I don't know."
Fu Yuanqing shook his head and said shamefully, "I didn't see anything before I was sealed up, then I was hung up. I still didn't see anything when my tongue was pulled out and a heavy iron weight was hung on it. I couldn't even call for help!"
"Master, is our manor haunted?"
The servants also looked terrified and said, "I didn't see anything either, then I was stacked up and couldn't move at all!"
"Haunted?"
The State Preceptor shook his head. "It's not a ghost. It's just that the person was too fast—so fast you couldn't even see him. I know who it is. He broke into my manor simply to retrieve his leg while I was away. If I'm not mistaken, the treasury where I keep my treasures should be empty by now."
He led everyone to the treasury and found that the seals on the treasury were still intact, untouched.
Fu Yuanqing let out a sigh of relief and laughed, "Preceptor, you were wrong. The seals are still here. 估计是 the thief couldn't break your seals, so he didn't touch anything in the treasury."
The State Preceptor sighed. "Phantom formless, stealing the sky and changing the sun—why would he need to break the seals? He could pass directly through the seals without touching them at all. The treasury is indeed empty."
No one believed him.
The State Preceptor opened the seals and pushed the door open. Inside, the room that should have held various treasures was completely empty, cleaned out without a trace.
And on the wall directly opposite the door, where a painting should have hung—the Sword God's Sword-Carrying Portrait painted by the Crown Prince of Tiantu years ago—the painting was also gone.
In its place was a piece of crooked, shockingly ugly writing: "Preceptor, I've taken back my leg. I've also claimed your treasured 收藏s. I took good care of your servants, so don't worry. Oh, I slept in your bed, and after waking up, I left a pile of poop on it. I also brewed a pot of fragrant tea in your study. Our score is settled—no need to thank me!"
The State Preceptor's face turned grim. He hurried to the bedroom, lifted the blanket, and was hit by a terrible stench. He quickly covered his nose and waved his hand. "Elder Fu, throw it out! Throw it out!"
Elder Fu hurriedly wrapped up the blanket and rolled up the mattress, but the entire bed still reeked. Elder Fu asked, "Master, should the bed be thrown out too?"
"Throw it out!"
The State Preceptor waved his hand and strode to the study. The study was filled with a foul smell, and the teapot contained a yellowish liquid that was clearly not tea.
With a sweep of his sleeve, the State Preceptor sent the teapot and teacups flying out the window. His face was ashen. "Bastard! Taking back your leg is one thing, but eating, drinking, and doing your business in my manor, ruining my peace! Elder Fu, prepare some new tea sets and bedding."
Elder Fu hesitated. "Master, we don't have much money left..."
The State Preceptor was stunned for a moment and murmured, "The Emperor's reward won't arrive for a few more days. My monthly stipend is paid at the beginning of the month. Is this month's stipend gone?"
Elder Fu said, "Master took most of the stipend with you on this trip. The money left was spent on gifts for officials' birthdays and new births. A few days ago, the Empress Dowager celebrated her birthday, and I prepared a gift, but the palace found it too shabby."
The State Preceptor had a headache. "Prince Zhenbei has died, and we need to prepare some gifts. Do we really have no money left? Is there anything we can pawn?"
"This..."
Elder Fu hesitated and didn't answer. The State Preceptor looked around and saw that although the house wasn't small, there were few pieces of furniture—nothing worth pawning.
He had always believed that indulging in trifles sapped one's will, so he kept his lifestyle simple with no antiques. His collection consisted of oddities like the Cripple's divine leg and the Crown Prince of Tiantu's painting—things that the divine thief had just broken in and stolen.
"Can I advance my stipend?"
Elder Fu said, "Master, what about your dignity?"
The State Preceptor hesitated. "Can I borrow some?"
Elder Fu shook his head. "With the recent war, the few officials who are close to you are all away with their armies. Besides, you've borrowed many times without ever repaying—it would cause gossip. Their families aren't home, and if I go to borrow money, who would lend it? Unless you go yourself."
The State Preceptor pondered. "My painting skills are decent. I could paint and sell them for money."
Elder Fu asked, "Will you sign your name?"
The State Preceptor shook his head. "If I sign my name, anyone who buys my painting would be bribing me. I won't sign."
Elder Fu shook his head. "Then your paintings won't sell."
The State Preceptor was exasperated. "How do you know they won't sell? I've collected the Crown Prince of Tiantu's paintings and copied them countless times. I may not rival the Painting Saint, but I'm still passable, aren't I?"
"Master, what kind of place is the capital? Famous scholars are as numerous as fish in the river, but how many can actually make money from calligraphy and painting? Most of them are starving skeletons. How do your painting skills compare to theirs?"
Elder Fu added, "However, your few disciples could lend you money."
"Borrow money from my disciples? I can't bring myself to do that."
The State Preceptor suddenly thought of Qin Mu and smiled. "I know who has money and can borrow from him. He's generous and often pays for my medicine—otherwise, my meager stipend would have run out long ago. He's not in the court, so borrowing from him wouldn't be embarrassing. I'll go borrow money. You all wait here."
Qin Mu returned to the Scholar's Residence at the Imperial Academy. As soon as he entered, he smelled a medicinal fragrance drifting from his courtyard, which puzzled him.
The Scholar's Residence was managed by dedicated menial servants. Although they were servants, each one often attended lectures in the hall, so their cultivation was quite strong. Some were even more powerful than the scholars themselves. Throughout the Imperial Academy's history, many servants had developed extraordinary abilities, jumping from servant to scholar, gaining promotions and titles, and becoming renowned generals.
With menial servants guarding the Scholar's Residence, it was nearly impossible for outsiders to sneak in.
Qin Mu led the Dragon Qilin and Hu Ling'er into his courtyard, where he found piles of medicinal herbs, as well as a medicine furnace and medicine cauldron.
The medicine cauldron and furnace were extraordinary—the patterns engraved on them were remarkable, clearly treasures no less impressive than those Qin Mu had plundered from the Loulan Golden Palace!
In one of the medicine cauldrons lay a leg, and in the other medicine furnace, an arm.
Qin Mu stared at the leg and arm in surprise, then said to Hu Ling'er and the Dragon Qilin, "Wait outside the courtyard. Don't let anyone enter."
Hu Ling'er and the Dragon Qilin left the courtyard. Qin Mu turned back to see the Dragon Qilin squeezing through the doorframe with a creaking sound and shook his head, thinking, "This guy's been eating too much lately. Before long, he'll probably burst my door, and I'll have to replace it again."
He pushed open the main door and saw two middle-aged men sitting inside. The Cripple was clean and neatly groomed, his hair slick and shiny, his beard tied with a gleaming golden rope, and his clothes quite elaborate.
Old Ma sat opposite him in a simple blue robe, far less flashy than the Cripple's outfit, with one empty sleeve hanging down. He looked somewhat travel-worn, having arrived not long ago, his temples gray and hair slightly disheveled.
When they saw Qin Mu enter, the Cripple gave a naive smile, and even Old Ma's cold face showed a hint of a smile.
"Old Ma, Grandpa Cripple..."
Qin Mu was moved, his eyes reddening. "Did you come to see me?"
"No," Old Ma said.
Qin Mu felt a pang in his chest. The Cripple laughed, "You're living much better than us. Why would we come to see you? You were picked up by us. Would we travel thousands of miles just to see you? Don't flatter yourself."
Qin Mu said angrily, "You did come to see me!"
The Cripple shook his head. "I just came to have you help me reattach my leg. Can you check if my leg is still alive?"
"No."
The Cripple glared. "Brat, you think you're tough now? We didn't come to see you!"
Old Ma coughed and said unhurriedly, "If you didn't come to see him, why not take your own leg to the Herbalist instead of coming here? Stop teasing him—look, he's about to cry."
"I'm not about to cry," Qin Mu said, stiffening his neck.
"Alright, alright, stop with the red eyes. I came to see you. I just came from the Preceptor's Manor, stayed there for a while, and took a few things. See that leg in the furnace?"
The old man said proudly, "My leg! I got it back from the Preceptor's Manor. The Preceptor couldn't do a thing about it—he just watched me take my leg away!"
Qin Mu was silent for a moment, then gave a naive smile. "Grandpa Cripple, the Preceptor and I just came back from out of town. Which Preceptor was in the Preceptor's Manor?"
The Cripple stared at him wide-eyed. Qin Mu stared back without backing down. The smiles on their faces were almost equally naive, giving a trustworthy feeling—even if they stabbed you, you'd still think they were completely trustworthy.
————Third update! Over nine thousand words completed today, another day of explosive writing!