Chapter Sixty-Two: The Fox Demon Enters the Capital

The capital had been restless these past few days.

The Imperial Astronomer's Gazette had published word of a noble family's alchemy workshop razed to the ground overnight.

The affair was now the talk of the city, with every street corner abuzz and a hundred rumors flourishing.

Though the Divine Mechanism Battalion could prove their automatons had been manipulated and that casualties were light, the incident was nonetheless shrouded in a haze of intrigue and the supernatural. Some mischief-makers even claimed it was the work of demons or monsters.

In hindsight, the disciples of the Divine Mechanism Battalion had always appeared half-mad, forever tinkering with lifelike puppets. It was said that passersby, venturing near their quarters at midnight, sometimes heard eerie, cackling laughter from within—enough to chill the blood.

After the noble houses themselves took charge of public opinion, the Battalion came to be regarded by many as a demonic sect masquerading as a military arm.

Now that they had shut themselves away, it seemed almost an unspoken admission of guilt.

Yet, as the Battalion was a branch of the Imperial Astronomer's Office and under the direct patronage of Emperor Zhaoning, and with the recent victory of the Great Zhou still fresh, the imperial authority blazing and unchallenged, few dared to openly cast doubt upon their nature.

Meanwhile, Luo Xiaoning had catapulted into fame—one shot, shattering all the automatons, a single strike!

Though the strength of those puppets varied, some reached heights nearly equivalent to the fifth realm. Such a feat was rare even among the younger generation of martial artists. Discussions soon broke out over where Luo Xiaoning might rank on the Xuantian List.

Some even claimed she could be compared to Jiang Yunhe, and thus, over the matter of cultivation and strength, two factions formed, each arguing their case with fervor.

Yet neither of the principals cared for such disputes...

Luo Xiaoning, for her part, was quite carefree. To her astonishment, she now found she could enter the Flaky Fragrance Pavilion without queuing, the wealthy patrons parting for her with respectful courtesy.

Never one to hold onto money, she happily squandered her purse empty, only to be confined to her study for three days by the Grand Star Fate as punishment for her reckless spending.

This little incident became a piece of city gossip, appended to the margins of the next issue of the Gazette.

Su Zhiqiu folded the news-sheet in her hands, finally allowing her anxious heart to settle.

The moment she entered the capital, she'd overheard talk in teahouses and taverns—stories of demon-slaying and monster-hunting—leaving her briefly flustered.

She'd feared her whereabouts had been discovered and that Pei Xiunian, the false prince, was issuing a warrant for her arrest...

Just thinking of his composed and assured expression atop the fort at Xiangyang made her break out in a cold sweat; Su Zhiqiu knew this was no mere paranoia.

A man as calculating as Pei Xiunian would never act without considering the consequences; his words that day could not possibly have meant he truly no longer cared for her.

He must have a contingency. He must be vigilant!

Now, the exiled fox princess was so plagued by his decisive actions that she jumped at shadows.

Moreover, traveling alone in the heartland of Zhaoning, surrounded by powerful figures in the capital, she dared not reveal the slightest flaw. Though she was a princess of Qingqiu, she still had to tread carefully, tail tucked between her legs...

Precisely because she was Qingqiu’s princess—if Pei Xiunian discovered her secret, if he caught her, she could only imagine her fate.

With her nerves stretched taut and her heart so sensitive, Su Zhiqiu’s anxiety was only natural.

Only after confirming these matters had nothing to do with her did she finally breathe easy and lift her gaze to take in the grandeur of the capital.

Tier upon tier of pavilions soared above, and the broad avenues bustled with endless traffic and throngs of people. Though her journey had been a hurried one with little pause, no other province had left her so dazzled by opulence and splendor.

Now, at last, she glimpsed the heart and heritage of this ancient dynasty.

To walk these wide, interlaced streets was to wander the veins of some great beast.

Su Zhiqiu lacked the ability to see the fortune of a dynasty, but one glance told her that Zhaoning was far from its twilight.

The peace and prosperity she saw was no mere facade.

Neither had the provinces she passed through shown any sign of imminent collapse; perhaps Zhaoning’s apparent defeats in war were a ploy to lure the enemy deeper?

No wonder, then, that even as Qingqiu’s army advanced, she saw no mass of refugees. She’d thought it a tactic by Zhaoning to conserve supplies for the front, but now it seemed the population’s movement had long been organized and orderly.

But... why would they do this?

At this, Su Zhiqiu found herself at a loss for her next step.

She had come to Zhaoning to approach Pei Xiunian, to seek either cooperation or force his hand.

But now, it seemed—even if he wished to seize the dragon-sparrow, it would be a long game, a plan spanning a thousand miles and countless years...

Was it wise to plunge in so rashly?

Moreover, her own status was not sufficient to command all of Qingqiu.

Su Zhiqiu worried she had acted too impulsively; this called for patience and deliberation. Yet—since she was here, she might as well make the most of it.

Obeying her mother’s will, she produced the second brocade pouch, which the demon queen had instructed her to open only upon reaching the capital.

Su Zhiqiu slipped it open with practiced composure, quickly scanning its contents before restoring everything exactly as it was.

Its contents matched her expectations: the identity of their own agent.

She was already riding the tiger and could not dismount; she might as well meet this agent and plan from there.

What surprised Su Zhiqiu was that the agent’s position and identity were quite different from her suspicions. She had thought it might be some high-ranking official at court... but instead...

She was turning this over in her mind when, with a crash, someone burst through a window of a nearby tavern, leapt onto the railing, and bounded across the blue-tiled roofs, footsteps ringing in a rapid cascade.

A squad of brocade-clad guards appeared in pursuit.

At that moment, a young nobleman poked his head out the window, pointing at the fleeing figure and shouting,

“Stop him! Dare you steal my Yu family’s Heart Crystal? Do you know my grandfather is Lord Changle?!”

At this, Su Zhiqiu halted mid-step. Fortune smiled upon her—just as she’d been fretting over whom to ask for directions...

She calmly fixed her gaze on the thief, quietly fingering the jade token at her waist.

The fugitive, unwilling to charge headlong into the guards’ blockade, vaulted down to the street below, drawing his sword and brandishing it twice in warning.

“Out of my way!” he bellowed.

The crowd, quick to catch on, parted to let him pass.

The thief charged forward, and at the end of the street stood a maiden of peerless beauty, frozen in apparent terror.

Theft of such a rare treasure was already a grave crime; to steal from a noble house—death without question. Driven to desperation, the thief was likely to take a hostage, and the maiden was his obvious target.

In that flickering instant, all watching held their breath, certain there could be no last-minute salvation.

But Su Zhiqiu was not truly paralyzed with fear. She was quietly gathering her true energy, preparing to act.

Just then, a cold flash split the air.

With a clang, in the next instant, both the thief’s sword and his body hit the ground.

A wooden sword had pierced his chest, blood spraying five paces; the farthest bead landed less than an inch from Su Zhiqiu’s shoe.

A cool, indifferent voice drifted to Su Zhiqiu’s ear:

“Are you unharmed?”

She looked up to see the maiden flicking blood from her wooden sword—white-haired, eyes veiled, dressed in simple garb.

The crowd broke into thunderous applause and cheers.

Su Zhiqiu blinked, then clasped her hands in salute. “Thank you, Lady Jiang, for saving my life.”

“It’s nothing,” Jiang Yunhe replied, sheathing her sword. Turning, as if sensing the approaching guards through her veil, she remained unperturbed and added sincerely,

“I feel as though we’ve met before. May I ask your name?”

Su Zhiqiu was clearly taken aback; to hear such words from a blind swordswoman was rather surreal. She was about to answer when the young master of the Yu family approached, calling out,

“Thank you, Lady Jiang, for your timely aid. This is my younger sister, Yu Hongdou.”

Jiang Yunhe fell silent for a moment before replying,

“So it’s the young lady of the Yu family—I must have been mistaken. Please forgive me, Miss Yu. I’ll take my leave.”

With that, she saluted the approaching guards and slipped away into the snowy streets.

Su Zhiqiu watched her go, when she heard Yu Liancheng speak earnestly,

“Sister, why are you out alone today? Thank goodness you came to no harm, or grandfather would never forgive me. Let’s go home—he wishes to see you.”

Su Zhiqiu calmly tucked away her jade token and nodded in quiet assent.