Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Sovereign Blade is Too Sharp

“What assassin? I—I didn’t…” Jam Ting instinctively denied it, but his body betrayed him, trembling uncontrollably, his expression a flustered mess. Not only Xu You and He Ru, even the sparrows perched in the old pagoda tree could see through his feeble lies—his heart was full of guilt.

“Wan Qi, release him!”

Wan Qi withdrew her right hand, shooting Jam Ting a cold glance as she did. Jam Ting felt as though he had been plunged into icy water. He had tried many times to discipline Bai Hua before, only to be stopped by Wan Qi each time. Back then, she had only intervened just enough, always defensive, never attacking. Who would have thought that if she truly made a move, she would be so terrifying?

“To call them assassins might not be entirely accurate—they didn’t want to kill me, only to capture me alive… But clearly, the person who sent them underestimated Wan Qi’s skill, and so they returned, defeated and empty-handed.”

In Jam Wenjun’s eyes shimmered a faint sorrow as she said, “Ninth Brother, do you truly hate me so much?”

Her journey to Fuchun County had been to seek aid from the Zhu family of Wu Prefecture, her movements strictly confidential. Yet, on the return to Fuchun, she had been ambushed. Once the assassins were repelled, she knew there must have been upheaval in Qiantang, so she abandoned the large boat for a lighter craft and hurried home. There, she learned from Lady Song and Qian Qin what Xu You and the others had said, but she could hardly believe it. Without even a sip of water, she rushed to the Zhibin Pavilion to see for herself, arriving just as the conflict erupted.

Jam Ting gasped for breath, his fists clenched tight. Perhaps memories of the past years flashed before his eyes; his face shifted between anger and gloom, until at last he glared at Jam Wenjun with a twisted, ferocious expression.

He said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes—the hatred etched deep into his very bones was enough to make one’s heart tremble.

Jam Wenjun sighed softly again. “Go,” she said, “Leave Qiantang at once. I will not pursue this matter any further…”

Jam Ting suddenly threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “Jam Wenjun, do you still not understand your situation? You are no longer of the Jam family. You married into the Guo family; even if you die, you’re their ghost—not Jam’s. You’ll never rest in the family tomb, you hear? What right, what status, what authority do you have to order me out of Qiantang?”

Jam Wenjun’s gaze grew resolute. “This is for your own good…”

“For my own good? What a joke!” Jam Ting roared, years of suppressed resentment bursting forth, his fear of Jam Wenjun forgotten. “Would the Jam family have come this far these past years without me? They’d have been out begging in the streets long ago! And what have I gained? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!”

“The entire Jam estate was entrusted to you; you handled hundreds of thousands in silver daily, wore silks and fine clothes, surrounded by wives and concubines, enjoying status, fame, and power—can you truly say you have nothing?”

“That’s what I deserve!” Jam Ting flung his hands out, pacing angrily in circles. Suddenly he stopped, pointed at Jam Wenjun, and shouted, “And what about you? A woman married out, husband dead, yet instead of keeping mourning in your husband’s house, you have the nerve to come back and meddle in Jam affairs! Yes, before you married, everyone in the family listened to you, treated you as the second master, but now that you’re married, why should we still obey your orders? Has anyone ever considered me? What am I to you all?”

Jam Wenjun shook her head, her voice tinged with pity. “If you never set yourself apart from others, no one will treat you as an outsider. Ninth Brother, you overthink everything, trapping yourself deeper and deeper.”

“Hahaha! Ninth Brother? How well you say it! But don’t forget, I am older than you. Who is your ninth brother? Just because I was raised by a maid, am I forever beneath you? In your eyes, I am always an outsider, always that nameless, originless orphan you picked up from the snow!”

“So even the affection of childhood is something you have always resented…” Jam Wenjun turned away, gazing at the withered leaves in the pagoda tree, memories of their youth flooding her mind.

Back then, Jam Ting was withdrawn, frail, and plain of appearance, often bullied by the other boys in the family. Although Jam Wenjun was fourth in line, she was a head taller than Jam Ting. Every time she saw him being bullied, she would step forward to protect him. She remembered one late autumn day, beneath a towering tree much like this one, pulling him from the fists and kicks of the others. Seeing his bruised face, she had blurted out, “You look just like a youngest brother. From now on, I’ll call you Ninth Brother. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you.”

Since then, she had always called him Ninth Brother, all the way to today. Yet, she had never imagined that even such a tender memory was something he constantly resisted…

“Well then, if you insist, go on as you wish. Ninth Brother—this is the last time I’ll call you that. Sometimes, only by seeing through the fog before your eyes can you glimpse the blue sky. Don’t be deceived by what you see; in this world, the only ones worthy of your trust are your family.” With these words, Jam Wenjun no longer looked at Jam Ting. Her hands clasped behind her back, she stood tall, every inch the figure of command, devoid of the softness expected of noblewomen. “Wan Qi, see Master Jam out.”

Jam Ting had always thought what he hated most about Jam Wenjun was her constant use of “Ninth Brother,” as if mocking the weak, bullied child he once was. Yet now, as the day finally came when he escaped this haunting refrain, he felt no joy—only a bewildered emptiness.

In this world, only family is worthy of trust?

No, no!

Without the Jams, I can find another place. Celestial Master’s Sect… Yes, the Celestial Master’s Sect is far more powerful than the Jams. With Supervisor Du’s support, I will still be the esteemed Master Jam of Qiantang County!

He offered himself all sorts of consolations, but as he passed out of the courtyard beneath Wan Qi’s cold gaze, he felt nothing but a profound, desolate loneliness.

Jam Wenjun, having dealt with family affairs, stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over Xu You and the others. In a clear voice, she asked, “Which of you is Master Xu?”

Xu You bowed. “I am Xu You of Yixing.”

Jam Wenjun’s eyes passed over him. “As your name suggests, a man of honor—I have long admired you.” Without waiting for courtesy, she continued, “After tonight’s events, I doubt you wish to remain at the Zhibin Pavilion. Why not accompany me to my residence and rest there for now?”

Though times had changed and some minds were more open, it was still shocking for a widow to openly invite several men to her home. But Xu You, having lived two lives, cared little for such conventions. He smiled. “I was going to ask Registrar Bao to speak on our behalf so we might lodge at the Magistrate Gu’s for the night. But if you extend the invitation, how can I refuse? I only worry we have angered Master Wuqu and may face some trouble tonight…”

Jam Wenjun was quite pleased with Xu You’s straightforwardness—she detested indecisive, rigid men who couldn’t adapt. “No matter,” she replied. “For safety, my residence is at least as secure as the county office. Tonight, no one will disturb your rest.”

Xu You’s heart stirred. Jam Wenjun’s confidence suggested she was fully prepared to face even the experts from the Celestial Master’s Sect. Was it possible that, besides Wan Qi, she had other formidable guards under her command?

Considering her background—her relative Guo Mian, a preeminent magnate, confidant to the Prince of Jiangxia—it was not surprising that his daughter-in-law would be protected by skilled warriors.

“That’s all for the best.”

Registrar Bao, who had been standing aside, saw the matter settled and said, “Since you’ve found lodging, I’ll take my leave. The magistrate is waiting for my report.”

“I’ll see Registrar off…”

“No need, please stay!”

He Ru suddenly spoke. “Allow me to accompany Registrar Bao on Seven’s behalf.”

Xu You was surprised, but Registrar Bao did not refuse. “Very well, Master He, this way please.”

The two walked out together in silence, not speaking until they reached the street outside Zhibin Pavilion. With no one around, He Ru finally said, “Danya, thank you for your help with Jam Ting.”

Had Xu You been present, he would have been shocked; since Registrar Bao had appeared, he had never given his courtesy name, so how did He Ru know it?

“I don’t know whether to call you Master He, or as I once did, my good friend Wu Fei—Wu Wenchang…”

He Ru smiled gently. “A name is but a name. Call me whatever you wish, Brother Danya.”

Registrar Bao sighed. “You left the Inspector’s Office in Jiangzhou without a word two years ago, and I knew you were no ordinary man. Still, I never imagined that when we met again two years later, you’d be working with Xu Wei.”

“I only met Seven today, but we immediately hit it off—nothing more. You needn’t read too much into it, Brother Danya.”

“Master He,” Registrar Bao said calmly, using the more distant form of address, “I know your capabilities, your ambitions, and your unwavering will. So tonight, for the sake of old friendship, I helped you once, repaying the guidance you gave me years ago. After this, we have no more ties.”

He Ru had expected as much. Registrar Bao was not an ordinary man—keen and insightful, not someone to be deceived. “So be it. If we both remain in Qiantang, should I offend you, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I deliberately provoked Jam Ting, goading him to act against Xu Wei despite the pressure from the county office, playing right into your hands. But by doing so, I’ve dragged Gu Yun into these muddy waters, unworthy of Magistrate Gu’s kindness.” Registrar Bao’s tone chilled. “So long as Gu Yun remains untouched, do as you will. But if I find you’ve drawn him into your schemes, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

He Ru knew Registrar Bao well enough not to argue. He replied mildly, “If you continue to shield Gu Yun so closely, without letting him face any real danger, you’ll be the one truly failing Gu Dongyang.”

Gu Yun’s father was Prefect of Dongyang, thus the courtesy “Gu Dongyang”—a common convention. Registrar Bao was silent for a long time before saying, “Your blade is too sharp, and I fear he is not strong enough to bear it. Let us go our separate ways—best not to be entangled further.”

Registrar Bao turned and left. He Ru watched his silhouette vanish at the end of the street, then returned to the Zhibin Pavilion.

My blade is indeed too sharp, but Xu You can bear it with equanimity. Gu Yun is hailed as the Gu family’s precious tree, the one upon whom all hopes are pinned, but between the two, the difference is clear.

In the future, their achievements will be plain for all to see.