My Martial Dao Has No Bottlenecks

Qiao Mansion.

Yang Wei had received the news and arrived.

With Zhao Yuan’s support, he walked past the armed soldiers, oblivious to his surroundings. He went straight to the mourning hall, and his body swayed as he gazed at the lonely coffin.

Then, he turned to Liang Cheng, who was standing nearby. He seemed to want to say something but couldn’t find the words. His body sagged, and he started to kneel, but Liang Cheng swiftly caught and supported him.

Zhao Yuan, following behind him, felt his eyes instantly redden. Yang Wei’s back was stooped, no longer held as straight and proud as it once was.

His face was ashen and lifeless, his eyes a web of bloodshot veins, as if he had been drained of all vitality.

"Master," Liang Cheng said, his voice level. "What are you doing?"

Yang Wei’s voice was hoarse. "Liang Cheng, my greatest wish in this life has been for the Martial Arts Hall to succeed and for my disciples to become great.

"But I’m stubborn and inflexible. I’ve never begged anyone for anything. If not for your own hard work, I’m afraid the Martial Arts Hall would have slowly withered away."

"Truthfully, it was my fault I was driven out of the Qiao Mansion all those years ago. The Qiao Family was left with only women. If I couldn’t stand tall, how could the Qiao Family?"

"But back then, in my so-called pride, I left the Qiao Mansion without a single look back. When I returned to Linhai Town and opened my bundle, I found one hundred taels of silver and a letter of divorce."

"Back then, all I saw was the letter of divorce. Looking back now, I realize Yan’Er just wanted to set me free. It was too hard to hold up the Qiao Family on her own."

"It’s a pity you only understand these things when you get old. For the past two years, I’ve finally been able to hold my head high again. It’s only because I have such a fine Disciple as you that I even dared to come back and visit the Qiao Family."

He paused, taking a breath to steady his emotions.

"But because I passed a message to you, Zhi’Er was implicated, and Yan’Er ended up murdered. Now she’s dead, with no family to perform her final rites. And Zhi’Er is still in the Martial Preparation Hall’s prison, pregnant with a child."

Yang Wei abruptly lifted his head, his crimson eyes fixed on Liang Cheng.

"Your master is begging you this one time. I’m not asking you to spare the Qiao Family, nor am I asking you to bend the law. Liang Cheng, for the sake of me having taught you the Mixed Element Stance and started you on the Martial Dao—"

His throat hitched, and he forced the next words through gritted teeth.

"Let Qiao Zhi out first. Let her kowtow to her mother and see her off. Once that’s done, whether she’s to be executed or dismembered, I, Yang Wei, will die in her place!"

The courtyard fell deathly silent, the only sound the soft rustling of paper funeral banners in the wind.

Before he had even finished speaking, Yang Wei put his weight into it, trying to kneel again. Liang Cheng increased the strength in his grip, a resilient force that held the old man up.

When Yang Wei tried to kneel once more, Liang Cheng’s fingers clamped down on his shoulder like an iron vise.

"Master."

Liang Cheng’s voice grew deep, filled with an undeniable authority. "A bow like that from you would shorten my own life. I will do what you ask. You can rest assured."

He then turned to Wu Zhenshan, who had been observing coldly from the sidelines. "Wu the Treasurer."

Wu Zhenshan stood beside the mourning hall, his face still fixed in a mild, professional expression. At Liang Cheng’s words, however, his face soured with difficulty.

"Town Guardian Liang, I understand that Martial Arts Hall Master Yang is desperate to help his daughter."

He sighed, but his tone gave no ground. "However, Qiao Zhi is implicated in the major case of the stolen ore. The City Lord has issued strict orders for a thorough investigation, with no room for favoritism. Allowing her to return home for the funeral would be against the law."

Liang Cheng stared at him and said, word by word, "The details of the case are still unclear. How can you be so certain she is the main culprit, Wu the Treasurer? This True Inheritor believes it is well within reason to grant her temporary release to handle the funeral arrangements, provided she returns within a set time."

Wu Zhenshan’s smile faded slightly. "The phrase ’within reason’ is open to interpretation. The Qiao Family’s case involves the Fire Worship Cult, which is no small matter. I dare not make such a decision on my own authority."

Wu Zhenshan continued, "The law is as unyielding as a mountain. How can it be cast aside for personal sentiment? Please, Liang Zhenchuan, do not make things difficult for me."

"You’re the one making things difficult for my master!"

Zhao Yuan couldn’t stop himself from growling, but a look from Liang Cheng silenced him.

Liang Cheng looked at Wu Zhenshan and suddenly nodded.

"Fine. I hope Wu the Treasurer continues to enforce the law with such impartiality."

"But of course."

Liang Cheng said no more. He turned, walked back to Zhao Yuan, and whispered a question. After receiving an affirmative nod, he took two rolled documents from the cloth pouch Zhao Yuan had been clutching.

Then, he unfurled them with a snap.

One was a cargo manifest. Xu Zhi’s signature was clearly discernible, and it was signed under the name of the Tongyuan Trading Company.

The other was a confession. The thumbprint of the Black Market fence was a glaring crimson. He confessed without reservation that the Xu Family had sold him the goods personally.

Liang Cheng thrust both documents directly in front of Wu Zhenshan’s face.

’Liang Cheng had held back until now only to smoke out the mastermind. But with his master driven to his knees, he had no intention of playing along with this charade any longer.’

"Wu the Treasurer, Xu Zhi handled stolen goods. We have both a witness and physical proof. The Xu Family’s Tongyuan Trading Company smuggled the stolen ore—the evidence is irrefutable. The Qiao Family was merely deceived. The fence is in my custody. We have the man and the proof. According to the law, what is the proper course of action?"

The mild smile on Wu Zhenshan’s face instantly froze, his pupils contracting slightly.

Without waiting for an answer, Liang Cheng’s voice suddenly rose, clear and cold, ringing throughout the Qiao Mansion’s front courtyard, offering Wu Zhenshan no quarter.

"When the Martial Preparation Hall investigated this case, you sealed only the Qiao Family’s storerooms and arrested only the Qiao women. The Xu Family’s warehouse, meanwhile, just so happened to catch fire, burning until not a single scrap of paper remained. And the Martial Preparation Hall’s patrol log for that night is, coincidentally, a complete blank!"

He glared at Wu Zhenshan, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

"Wu the Treasurer, you tell me: Is this all a coincidence? Or is someone eager to help the Xu Family wipe the slate clean so all the blame can be pinned on the deceived Qiao Family?"

"Liang Cheng! You are insolent!"

Wu Zhenshan’s expression finally twisted in anger as he roared, "Without proof, you dare spout such nonsense and slander me!"

"Without proof?"

Liang Cheng waved the confession and manifest in his hand, sneering. "This proof in black and white, this bright red thumbprint—are you blind to it, Wu the Treasurer, or are you choosing not to see?"