Chapter 147
Chapter 147
The Count of Jinhai roared internally.
‘What does that have to do with me? As long as I win, who cares if they all die? I paid a great price to borrow them.’
But what the Count of Xuanwu said was true. The borrowed masters would kill for him, but they wouldn't die for him. With their earlier momentum, the soldiers might have fought to the end, but now that the battle had been paused at the Count of Xuanwu's request, their soaring spirit had dissipated. At that moment, the masters hired by the Count of Jinhai's estate all raised the swords in their hands, signaling their acceptance of a draw. Royal Uncle Duke Ying, Duke Bianwu, and Marquis Suoxian consulted briefly.
“I believe it is fair to declare this match a draw. Xuanwu, Jinhai. What are your thoughts?”
Tang Yun spoke from the side.
“Father, do not oppose Duke Ying. The hired masters have already indicated they will not fight any longer. In the upcoming literary competition, I will most certainly win. In fact, I will crush my opponent in a landslide victory. If I defeat Jin Mucong, the score will be tied again, leading to one final match. That will be a martial duel between you and the Count of Xuanwu, and your martial arts far surpass his. Therefore, our family is guaranteed to win. The Count of Xuanwu's estate is doomed to fall, just as planned!”
The Count of Jinhai had no choice but to agree to the draw, and thus, the second match came to an end. Once he had calmed down and thought it over, the Count of Jinhai realized this was indeed the best outcome. Although twenty men remained on his side, they were all elite masters he had borrowed. On the Count of Xuanwu's side, though there were only five masters left, they still had seventy soldiers, making their strengths roughly equal. If they fought to the very end, the outcome would be difficult to predict.
Logically, the Count of Jinhai's side, with its twenty masters, had a slightly higher chance of winning. But the masters of the Count of Xuanwu's estate were now burning with a will to fight to the death, and the morale of the remaining soldiers was sky-high. Because of this, it was impossible to know who would emerge victorious if they fought to the finish. A draw was actually more advantageous for the Count of Jinhai.
“Xuanwu, Jinhai. Do you both agree to a draw?”
Royal Uncle Duke Ying pressed for an answer once more.
Both the Count of Xuanwu and the Count of Jinhai bowed and said, “We agree.”
***
Inside the quarters of the Count of Jinhai's estate.
The powerful nobles gathered to congratulate one another. The atmosphere was like that of survivors after a catastrophe. The second match had been unexpectedly close, but had it not ended in a draw, at the very least? When the military competition began, everyone had been scared out of their wits. Who could have predicted that the new armor and weapons of the Count of Xuanwu's estate would be formidable enough to slaughter their opponents?
Fortunately, thanks to Prefect Zhang Chong’s foresight, the Count of Jinhai had paid a great price to borrow masters from various families. Otherwise, they would have been utterly defeated in this match, forced to return to their estate without even reaching the third round. If that had happened, a future too grim to speak of would have awaited them.
Tang Yun felt a sense of relief. He was to be the hero who saved his family and turned the tide in a perilous situation. Even though the Count of Jinhai's estate now had one loss and one draw, everyone believed victory was within their grasp. After all, in the afternoon's literary competition, Tang Yun would defeat that imbecile Jin Mucong in an instant. What was there to worry about? Nothing at all. The sun could rise in the west, and it still wouldn't change the outcome. Once Tang Yun secured a resounding victory in the third match, they would hold one more contest tonight to settle the score once and for all.
The Count of Xuanwu versus the Count of Jinhai—that final showdown was as certain as the third match. What kind of person was the Count of Xuanwu? To put it nicely, he was honest, upright, and tolerant. To put it bluntly, he was inflexible and ordinary. He was average in all respects, with only mid-to-high aptitude in both literature and martial arts. He was decent enough among common folk, but among the nobility, he was barely noticeable.
That was why many joked that in the history of the Count of Xuanwu's family, symbolized by the tortoise, Jin Zhuo was the count who most resembled one. Some even took the joke too far, saying that Jin Mucong showed quite a bit of his father's style, implying that Jin Mucong was a lesser version of the Count of Xuanwu, Jin Zhuo.
To be fair, the Count of Xuanwu was a highly skilled martial artist. Though born with average aptitude, he was diligent and strove to master everything he learned. In *The Legend of the Condor Heroes*, the great hero Guo Jing, despite his dull aptitude, achieved great progress in martial arts through fortunate encounters. Unfortunately, the Count of Xuanwu had no such luck. Thus, despite his immense efforts, a large gap had formed between his martial arts and those of the naturally gifted Count of Jinhai.
The Count of Jinhai was a man of aggressive and strong character, exuding a sharp aura. He was the complete opposite of the overly cautious and conservative Count of Xuanwu. Had his personality been different, he would never have chosen to betray the old aristocracy and become the king's sword.
Tang Lun enjoyed studying, but his literary talent was average; his true gift was in martial arts. When the final contest came down to a duel between the Count of Xuanwu and the Count of Jinhai, the Tang family's victory was assured.
For that reason, the powerful figures waiting to feast on the corpse of the Jin family were already offering their congratulations. Although the second match ended in a draw, it couldn't change the ultimate outcome of their victory. The Count of Jinhai, Tang Lun, went before Prefect Zhang Chong and bowed deeply.
“Tang Lun is deeply grateful for the Prefect's great kindness.”
Thinking back on it, Tang Lun still felt a chill run down his spine. If not for Zhang Chong's advice, the Count of Jinhai's estate would have been finished by now. Soon, everyone began to praise Zhang Chong in unison, calling him a talent of the nation, a man of remarkable insight, and the savior of them all.
But despite the surrounding praise, Zhang Chong did not smile at all. The ominous feeling in his heart had not disappeared; instead, it had grown stronger. Seeing these men celebrating their victory in advance, Zhang Chong considered offering a few words of caution but decided against it. It was foolish to be the only sober one scolding a crowd of drunks.
“Everyone, I shall take my leave first!”
No longer wishing to engage in nonsensical conversations with these fools, Zhang Chong quickly left.
***
After returning to his room, Zhang Chong poured several cups of tea but did not bring a single one to his lips. He reviewed the entire situation, worried he might have missed something. Zhang Jin entered and, seeing his father’s deeply furrowed brow, spoke up.
“Father, although we didn't win the second match, we still achieved a good result. Victory is all but certain, isn't it?”
“Why do you think so? Do you believe Shen Lang’s schemes end here?”
“Shen Lang must have expected to win the martial and military competitions and lose the literary one. He is certainly a genius. He nearly succeeded. If not for your sharp judgment, Father, Shen Lang would have already won. No one could have predicted he would find a way to counter the Meteor Sword Style or create such astonishing armor and weapons. But Shen Lang’s miracles end here. His bag of tricks must be empty by now.”
Zhang Jin thought his words made sense. The powerful nobles were celebrating their victory in advance for the same reason.
“They say you can't carve rotten wood. Surely you don't think that imbecile Jin Mucong can be taught, Father? No matter how hard Jin Mucong tries under the guidance of a great teacher, the greatest success of his life would be merely passing the scholar's examination.”
That, too, was true.
“But Tang Yun is as if the Star of Literature descended from the heavens; he became the Third Laureate in last year’s palace examination. His literary talent is outstanding. Even if mountains and rivers were to switch places and the seas were to flow backward, it would not change the fact that Jin Mucong will be utterly defeated by Tang Yun. Moreover, the topic for this literary competition was sealed in a box, known only to the King himself. Even if Shen Lang wanted to cheat and help Jin Mucong, it would be impossible.”
Zhang Chong frowned as a clue seemed to surface in his mind.
“Didn't you once say that Shen Lang defeated Tian Heng's gambling den by winning thirteen times in a row?”
At Zhang Chong's sudden question, Zhang Jin paused to think for a moment before nodding in reply.
“That did indeed happen.”
A ridiculous thought suddenly occurred to Zhang Chong, but he quickly shook his head, dismissing it. No matter how he looked at it, it was too absurd. It was beyond belief; such a bizarre thing could not possibly happen in this world.
“Do you think it's possible that Shen Lang knew the topic of the literary competition in advance and wrote the essay and poem for Jin Mucong?”
“How… how could that be possible? It’s completely impossible.”
“When sizing up an enemy, you must think broadly from various angles, make bold assumptions, and then carefully seek evidence. Go and bring Chunhua here.”
A short while later, Zhang Chunhua entered. He believed that a woman's intuition became sharper in a crisis, and his daughter, in particular, was an unconventional person who was not bound by worldly conventions. Besides, she was fond of Shen Lang.
“Chunhua, did you see Shen Lang’s expression when the military competition ended this morning?”
Zhang Chunhua had, of course, been watching Shen Lang. She recalled the moment and answered.
“When the Count of Xuanwu stopped the battle and proposed a draw, Shen Lang looked relieved, but he was also frowning.”
“No! Something doesn't add up!”
“What is it?”
“Is Jin Mulan a person who fears death?”
“That foolish woman not only doesn't fear death, she's incredibly brave. A few months ago, while training soldiers, she fought desperately for the honor of the Count of Xuanwu's estate. But today, she didn't fight desperately at all. She showed no signs of fighting to the death.”
“That’s what’s strange. Logically, this military competition was a matter of life and death for the Count of Xuanwu's estate, so she should have fought with her life on the line, or at least tried to take the enemy down with her… But she fought cautiously instead?!”
Hearing this, both Zhang Jin and Zhang Chunhua immediately thought it was strange. Found it! Zhang Chong finally understood what was amiss.
“Right now, Jin Mulan probably listens to Shen Lang more than anyone. Her reluctance to fight to the death in the military competition must be related to him. Shen Lang must have told her it didn't matter if they lost, so she shouldn't risk her life. If so, why was Shen Lang so confident? It must be because he was certain of victory in the literary competition!”
“Perhaps Shen Lang simply cherishes Jin Mulan and didn't want to see her get hurt?”
“If Shen Lang hadn't planned ahead, why would Jin Mulan listen to him and fight so cautiously as to not get a single scratch? This was a battle for her family's survival. Shen Lang must have told her they would definitely win the third match, the literary competition, so she absolutely must not fight desperately or get injured.”
Zhang Chunhua thought her father’s words made sense.
“Jin Mucong cannot defeat Tang Yun, so how could Shen Lang have prepared for the literary competition? The only possibility is that he knew the topic in advance, composed the essay and poem, and had Jin Mucong memorize them.”
“How could that be possible? The topic was personally set by the King and immediately sealed in a box. There’s no way it could have been leaked.”
“I don't know how Shen Lang could have known the topic in advance. But after you eliminate all the wrong answers, whatever remains—no matter how absurd it may seem—is likely the correct one!”
Zhang Chunhua expressed her agreement.
“I agree with you, Father.”
“There is still more than an hour until the afternoon's literary competition. Time is extremely tight, but we might still be able to salvage the situation.”
With those words, Zhang Chong left his room to see Royal Uncle Duke Ying.