Chapter Nineteen: The Strange Sound of the Wooden Fish

When Magistrate Shuo saw Shen Lian in the main hall, Shen Lian was already seated. At that moment, he held a teacup, gently savoring its contents, as wisps of steam rose languidly from the cup. Magistrate Shuo, a man of refined sensibilities, could only think of one phrase—"smoke rising from jade."

He was a scholar, having seen countless men of talent or scions of distinguished families throughout his life. Certainly, some were more handsome than Shen Lian, but none possessed his spirit. Some had more vitality, but lacked Shen Lian's tranquility. Others, though mature for their age, lost a touch of natural ease and gained an air of affectation.

He had always judged people by their appearance, and first impressions were paramount. Even if Shen Lian were not a member of the Shen family, Magistrate Shuo would still feel an inexplicable affinity for him.

When Shen Lian saw Magistrate Shuo, he slowly set down his teacup and smiled in greeting. Magistrate Shuo sensed a certain mystical camaraderie, like that of ancient scholars meeting, and cheerfully took his seat.

He asked, "Young sir, what brings you to my office?"

"I am here to save you, sir," Shen Lian replied quietly, his voice low yet each word clear.

Upon hearing this, Magistrate Shuo was displeased. Yet, recalling the good impression Shen Lian had left and considering his status, he refrained from expressing his irritation.

The steward waited outside, ready for orders. He first heard an angry shout from within and wondered if something had happened, debating whether to check. After a while, things grew quiet, leaving him puzzled, until he saw Magistrate Shuo, smiling warmly, escort Shen Lian out, instructing him to take Shen Lian, with a token letter, to the secret prison.

The steward noticed a faint smell of something scorched emanating from Magistrate Shuo, and saw that the usual plump, pale hands now bore traces of paper ash.

******

The prison of Qingzhou Prefecture was filthy and malodorous, so much so that even jailers wished to spend as little time there as possible. Yet Shen Lian, following behind the jailer, remained utterly composed.

Passing through a corridor, he finally reached the deepest part of the prison.

This was an iron chamber, reserved for the most vicious pirates and criminals. Twelve locks secured the iron door, known as the "Golden Gate Jade Locks." Even the most skilled thieves would need a quarter hour to open them.

As the iron door slowly opened, the anticipated stench was absent, but the air was stifling.

It was Shen Lian's second encounter with the man in the azure robe.

The memory of their first meeting was vivid; he still recalled the man's domineering presence, and his self-assurance.

The azure-robed man's scapula was pierced by two iron chains, and his hands and feet were shackled, locked in a corner.

The jailer lit an oil lamp; in the dim glow, the man's face was covered in a thick beard, his hair wild and disheveled.

Shen Lian tried to step forward, but the jailer stopped him, saying, "Young sir, best not get any closer. This month alone, five or six groups have come, and every one left carried out."

Only then did Shen Lian observe the cell; its lack of stench was due to its spaciousness, more like a grand hall than a prison.

Shen Lian said, "You’ve pierced his scapula and bound him with fine iron. Can he still harm anyone?"

He knew the answer, but did not want others to realize he already knew.

The jailer nodded, "This man uses sorcery. Anyone who draws near and is noticed by him falls unconscious. We still don’t know how he was captured in the first place."

He spoke with lingering fear. Since the man was imprisoned, many martial artists had attempted to infiltrate, but all ended up dead in the cell, leaving the jailers to clean up afterwards.

Fortunately, as long as one kept a safe distance—three or five yards away—the azure-robed man would not actively harm anyone.

The Shen family’s intention was to execute him, but after he regained consciousness, no one could approach. Even after a month without food or water, he did not die.

The elder jailer explained that such martial experts, versed in secret techniques, could hibernate like bears or snakes, conserving energy for long periods without sustenance.

But this man, capable of harming others without a trace and surviving a month without food, was far more formidable than any beast.

Moreover, Magistrate Shuo had received secret orders from above to transfer him to the capital, so he simply left the man alone, waiting for envoys from the capital to collect him.

Had it not been for Shen Lian’s token letter, the jailer would not have come here today.

The azure-robed man opened his eyes, shining like stars in the night, brilliant and intense.

Shen Lian felt a stirring within; the man seemed even more powerful than before.

It was a unique impression, impossible to prove yet unmistakable.

The azure-robed man cast a glance at the jailer beside Shen Lian; his gaze was like a blade, and the jailer collapsed.

In modern society, masters of martial arts have a technique called "gaze strike." Shen Lian had read about it in a martial arts novel, and now understood what it truly meant.

He believed he could achieve it himself, though something was still lacking.

It was as if he possessed a fortune, but did not know how to use or circulate it—how to make that wealth work.

The jailer thought the distance was safe, not realizing that perhaps in the past, the so-called "Godslayer Sword" of the azure-robed man could not reach so far, but now he had advanced, becoming more formidable than before.

Of course, there was another possibility: the azure-robed man had been holding back.

Regardless, only two people remained in the cell now.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"My name is Shen Lian. The reason the authorities captured you is because of my grandfather," Shen Lian replied.

"Shen family of Qingzhou?" The azure-robed man’s voice was hoarse, as if his mouth was parched.

"So you’ve heard of us."

"I don’t recall ever having a quarrel with the Shen family; they are not much involved with the martial world."

"Do you remember a month ago, you killed two young men? They were my grandfather’s grandsons, my cousins."

"So that’s the reason. Now I understand." The azure-robed man seemed to have found the answer to a puzzle that had long eluded him.

"You don’t seem to bear much hatred for me," Shen Lian remarked, curious; he was, after all, of the Shen family, yet the man showed no resentment.

"People come to kill me, I kill them. What is there to hate? In my life, I’ve hated only one person, and only one is worthy of my hatred. The rest are not worth my attention," the man replied coldly.

"No wonder he is so powerful," Shen Lian thought.

"Do you want to know why I came?"

"I can teach you the Godslayer Sword. Even if you don’t come, I would have sought you out in the coming days."

"Why?" Shen Lian asked, surprised. After all his efforts, he had not expected the man would seek him out and impart the Godslayer Sword.

Moreover, the implication was clear: the man could leave the prison at any time, unimpeded by the chains through his scapula.

Shen Lian realized he understood far too little about the martial world. This was not a mere martial arts novel, but a strange world of mysterious powers, even immortal arts.

The experience he had gained from reading martial and fantasy novels was of little use here.

At that moment, Shen Lian heard a peculiar sound, like a wooden fish being struck, delicate as silk, its origin unknown.

ps: Thanks to Xisha for the reward of 1888, Fallen Lucifer for 588, Shuyan for 588, Dugu Feeling for 588, virus_w for 200, Team-Trouble for 210, and also Painter of Thousand Peaks, Fly Higher, Snow-Stepping Flower, A Heap of Useless Goods, Quark in the Atom, and West Green Mage for their donations.