Chapter Eighteen: Getting Something for Nothing

When Zhu Yu first heard from Xiyu that Blackstone had the power to appoint all officials across the land, he was furious. But after careful consideration, he realized that since his ascension to the throne, every official appointment he made had gone smoothly, without a single mishap. Xiyu’s claim, therefore, crumbled of its own accord—clearly, the rumors had been wildly exaggerated as they spread through the world of martial arts.

Upon hearing Zhu Yu’s words, Xiyu frowned and replied, “Your Majesty, something still isn’t right. I was part of Blackstone’s upper ranks myself. To my knowledge, Blackstone’s authority to appoint officials is real. Every year, offerings from officials across the empire to Blackstone amount to no less than ten million taels of silver.”

This response left Zhu Yu puzzled, but he soon dismissed it. “Never mind. If we can’t figure it out, I’ll ask King Zhuanlun directly in a few days.”

Seeing the confusion on Xiyu’s face, Zhu Yu explained, “I’ve said before that I’m very interested in Blackstone, and I want to experience what it’s like to be its leader. Since I intend to become Blackstone’s head, there’s no longer any need for King Zhuanlun to exist.”

Xiyu stared blankly at the young man before her. At first she had only felt awe at his imperial identity, but now, seeing how casually he decided King Zhuanlun’s fate, a chill of dread crept into her heart. She could not quite name the feeling, but upon reflection, she realized this must be what people meant when they spoke of the peril of serving an emperor.

Despite Zhu Yu’s words, the deep-seated prestige King Zhuanlun had accumulated over the years left Xiyu uneasy.

“Your Majesty, King Zhuanlun is a formidable martial artist. He won’t be so easy to deal with,” she said, voicing her concern.

“I know. I used to worry about that, too, until I learned that King Zhuanlun isn’t even a grandmaster. I honestly don’t know how your Blackstone managed to grow so powerful.”

Xiyu, herself a product of Blackstone, felt a wave of discomfort clog her throat at Zhu Yu’s words, just as King Zhuanlun might have.

A grandmaster? What kind of wild talk was this? Grandmasters weren’t cabbages to be found on every street corner. Out of tens of millions, how many true grandmasters existed? And to look down on someone for not being one? As if his own family...

Halfway through her silent complaint, Xiyu suddenly remembered the man before her: the imperial household did indeed have several grandmasters in its service.

Composing herself, Xiyu asked, “Then, Your Majesty, what would you have me do?”

Zhu Yu pondered for a moment, then spoke deliberately: “Since I am to become Blackstone’s leader, how could I not meet my subordinates? Gather all of Blackstone’s upper ranks for me.”

The following day, in a dilapidated hut somewhere in the capital, Xiyu faced off against Lei Bin, the Trickster, and Fat Chen—three of Blackstone’s top members.

“Xiyu, you’re bold indeed. With a bounty out for your head, you dare summon us all here? Are you so tired of living? If so, hand over Rama’s corpse and we’ll make your end swift.”

It was Fat Chen who spoke, the man in charge of Blackstone’s finances. Had Zhuge Zhengwo been present, he would have recognized this same portly figure who had issued the bounty at the Jiangyuan Inn.

“I’ve no desire to die just yet,” Xiyu replied. “I called you here to meet the new head of Blackstone.”

At her words, the other three exchanged amused glances.

“Xiyu, you must be ill. I may be a performer, but I know a few folk remedies from my years on the road. Hand over Rama’s corpse, and I’ll cure you,” the Trickster chimed in.

Before Xiyu could respond, the door creaked open. She, knowing who it was, remained calm, but the others tensed—surely an accomplice of Xiyu’s had arrived.

It was Zhu Yu who entered. Taking in the four figures, he was momentarily at a loss. “Xiyu, I asked you to summon all of Blackstone’s upper ranks. Don’t tell me the mighty Blackstone has only four of you at the top?”

Seeing no one else follow Zhu Yu inside, Xiyu grew anxious and blurted, “Your—no, sir, did you come alone?”

“Of course,” Zhu Yu replied with perfect composure. He pressed, “I asked you a question—is Blackstone’s upper echelon really just four people?”

Helpless, Xiyu nodded. “It’s Blackstone’s rule: only first-rate martial artists can join the upper ranks. Lei Bin, the Trickster, and I are all of middling first-rate caliber. As for Fat Chen, don’t be fooled by his looks—he’s a first-rate martial artist as well, though at the lower tier.”

Zhu Yu nodded thoughtfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Trickster inching stealthily behind him. Without hesitation, Zhu Yu drew from his robe a fearsome, large-mouthed hand cannon.

“Let me introduce you to something,” he said to the three. “This is the Tiangang Five Thunders, a firearm once wielded by Zhuge Zhengwo, now chief of the Six Gates. Its power is immense—they say even a grandmaster cannot survive a direct hit. Would you care to try it?”

The Trickster eyed the bizarre weapon dubiously. Zhu Yu’s words gave him pause; though skeptical, he was too fond of his life to test it, and so he halted his slow advance. Still, he sneered, “Xiyu, is this your helper? I don’t see a spark of martial skill in him. He’s just waving around some weird contraption. Is this pretty boy your lover?”

Before Xiyu could answer, Zhu Yu spoke up, addressing the three, “Xiyu should have told you about me. I’m the new leader of Blackstone. My name is Zhu Yu. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The three exchanged strange looks. At last, Lei Bin could not help but speak. “So madness is contagious, is it? Did you catch it from Xiyu, or was it the other way around?”

At his words, all three burst into laughter.

“Here’s what I suggest,” Zhu Yu said calmly. “Come with me. I’ll take you somewhere, and you can decide for yourselves whether I’m mad.”

“Why should we go with you?” the Trickster retorted scornfully. “Your life is in our hands. Even if that thing really is the Tiangang Five Thunders, it can only kill one of us, and there are three of us. No matter what, you’re a dead man.”

Zhu Yu ignored the threat, speaking evenly, “As you can see, I know no martial arts. But have you considered why I have the confidence to declare myself Blackstone’s leader? Aren’t you curious?”

He paused, then pressed his advantage, “I’m about to show you the source of my confidence. If you still think I’m nothing special, you can kill me then—there’s no rush.

Besides, you don’t even know who I really am. If you kill me now, aren’t you afraid of the trouble it might bring? Even your previous leader, King Zhuanlun, never claimed to fear everyone.

I know you’re all top assassins, unfazed by a few more lives or any trouble you might stir up. But if unnecessary trouble can be avoided, isn’t it better for everyone? Don’t you agree?”