Chapter Twenty-Two: The She-Devil of the Great Ming, An Unexpected Discovery

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In the martial world of the Ming Dynasty, there were many notorious female villains. Figures such as Lian Nichang, the Grand Mistress Yao Yue of the Flower-Shifting Palace, the white-haired Three-Thousand-Length, the shadowy Medusa Yin Ji, the Stone Guanyin, and others. Yet, the one who instilled the most terror in the hearts of the jianghu was none other than Huang Xuemei, the Six-Fingered Demon of the Qin.

With her mastery of the Heavenly Dragon Eight Sounds, since the day she burst onto the scene, she had slain countless martial artists—whether from righteous sects or sinister cults. Any who dared cross her path, or as rumors said, even those merely encountered by her, would instantly burst apart and die.

“Sister’s reputation is far more effective than ours,” one woman remarked.

“If you want it, you can have it,” another replied.

“Better not. I don’t wish to be called the number one female demon of the Ming,” the first declined.

“Enough chatter, or I’ll sew your mouth shut.” Clad in white, Huang Xuemei shot a sharp glance at the woman, then lowered her gaze to the few corpses nearby. Her voice was grave: “This Heavenly Strategy selection has stirred quite a commotion. All kinds of forces have gathered, mixing the fish with the dragons. There was a celestial phenomenon clash outside Jiayuguan, and now a terrestrial immortal has appeared from the west. It’s best not to complicate matters further—let’s return and report first.”

The woman who had spoken earlier dropped her playful demeanor. “Understood, Sister.”

The threat posed by the Grandmaster of the Celestial Phenomenon was not great; but the appearance of a terrestrial immortal meant the chaos in Shaanxi had exceeded their expectations. Avoiding extra trouble was the wisest course.

Huang Xuemei soared upward, rising three hundred steps into the air, like a fairy gliding above the waves, standing firm in the vast sky. Her phoenix-like eyes swept the surroundings, taking in every fleeing figure and those hurrying on their way.

“The Heavenly Strategy, Cangyun, and Secret Guards have all been mobilized.”

“Let’s hope we’re not returning too late.”

Huang Xuemei inhaled deeply, then with several women, drifted away like willow catkins dancing on the wind.

Only after they had gone did others dare to emerge.

They watched the direction Huang Xuemei and her group had taken. Some wore thoughtful expressions, others were full of suspicion.

Yet not a single person dared to pry into their purpose.

Because that would surely mean death.

“I never expected to see her here!”

From a distant corner, Wan Sanqian exclaimed in surprise.

Zhu Wushi glanced at him without a word. “You know her?”

“Mm.” Wan Sanqian nodded, regret shadowing his face. “To be honest, two years ago when Huang Xuemei returned to the martial world seeking revenge, sweeping across the northern deserts, slaughtering seven gangs and sixteen sects, I encountered her while she moved southward. I offered her a fortune to recruit her and promised to help restore the Heavenly Dragon Sect, but she refused without hesitation.”

“Not surprising.”

“Two years ago, she was only a master of the mystical arts, but in group battles, she was comparable to a celestial phenomenon. Someone like her could never be content to serve under others.”

Zhu Wushi didn’t mention that it wasn’t just Wan Sanqian who had tried to recruit Huang Xuemei—he himself had sent people to court her, but all had failed.

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After Zhu Jinzheng was granted the title of prince and took charge of Shaanxi, he fortified the region like an iron fortress. His intelligence network penetrated deep into the homes of common folk, fully applying the principles of vigilant citizenry he had valued in his previous life.

As a result, he knew nearly everything about the intelligence within Shaanxi.

Especially concerning Jiayuguan, the mighty frontier pass.

Zhu Jinzheng’s control over it was beyond what outsiders could imagine.

Before the sun had set, the strange visitors and suspicious figures arriving at Jiayuguan were all laid out before Zhu Jinzheng.

Two pieces of intelligence stood out, catching his keen interest.

“Your Highness, according to reports from Jiayuguan’s townsfolk and verification by the Secret Guards, the Deputy Director Liu Xi of the Eastern Depot and the chief clerk Cao Shaoqing arrived at Jiayuguan around the hour of Shen in the afternoon, accompanied by many Eastern Depot agents.”

“The Eastern Depot is the emperor’s most loyal canine; they would never leave the capital without cause. Investigate their purpose.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Zhu Jinzheng nodded and turned to the second secret report, also from the townsfolk. It was brief and vague—no clear identity of the parties involved, only that two middle-aged men in splendid robes led four silent guards.

“Dressed in blue, masked in black cloth, could these be the guards of the quadruplet brothers?” Zhu Jinzheng tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table, recalling possible suspects.

Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind.

“Could it be him?” Zhu Jinzheng raised his head with suspicion and looked at Li Cheng’en and Qin Yiyan. “Yiyan, mobilize the elite troops of the Heavenly Bow, Heavenly Shield, and Heavenly Spear battalions. Send them here. Whether true or not, I want to see them.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Qin Yiyan bowed and went to issue commands.

Zhu Jinzheng lowered his head to study the report again, especially noting the distinct attire of the guards. “Unexpectedly, while the big catch from the Mongol Yuan side remains elusive, those from the Ming keep streaming in. Interesting.”

“Your Highness, what do you mean?” Cao Xueyang asked curiously.

Zhu Jinzheng did not hide his thoughts and shared his speculation: “The richest man in Ming, Wan Sanqian, and the master of the Hulong Manor, the Iron-Blooded Divine Marquis Zhu Wushi, whom we recently discussed with Lu Xiaofeng.”

“Them?” Li Cheng’en and Cao Xueyang exchanged looks.

“If it were only the two of them, I couldn’t be sure either.”

Zhu Jinzheng, anticipating Zhu Jianqiu’s unspoken question, shook his head. “But Wan Sanqian, though mysterious, is extremely afraid of death. He spent a fortune recruiting the so-called ‘Four Ghosts of Xiangxi’—martial artists who are rumored to be impossible to kill.”

“The Four Ghosts of Xiangxi? The Phantom Divine Skill?”

“So, the ones who arrived with Wan Sanqian really are...?”

Wan Sanqian’s influence was minor regarding the grand scheme, despite his wealth.

But Zhu Wushi’s sudden appearance at Jiayuguan had aroused the suspicion of Li Cheng’en, Cao Xueyang, Zhu Jianqiu, and others, who quietly wondered if it related to the matter at hand.

“Indeed.”

Zhu Jinzheng saw their doubts and nodded calmly. “Zhu Wushi claims to be an imperial bastard, born from a drunken night with a palace maid. Hence, he was never granted a princely title, only a marquisate. This is tied to a royal scandal.”

“This man feigns loyalty but is deeply ambitious and cunning.”

“In recent years, he has covertly expanded his power under the guise of the Hulong Manor, gathering intelligence and blackmailing others. He has built considerable influence and maintains close ties with many civil and military officials, as well as generals along the nine border regions.”

“He waits for the day he can rally the officials and seize the throne.”

“My power grows daily. This Iron-Blooded Divine Marquis likely fears that if he ever attempts rebellion, I will act to purge him first. So he aims to strike preemptively.”

Though speculative, Zhu Jinzheng was nearly certain.

An enemy’s enemy is not necessarily a friend.

Zhu Wushi surely understood the principle that no one should sleep soundly beside a rival’s bed.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have arrived at Jiayuguan around the same time as Lu Xiaofeng, perhaps even before him.

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