Your Majesty, Please Stop!

Chapter 34: The Balanced Mindset of the Catchers

October 7th, morning.

Sun, the catcher: "Since he knows Mastery Saber Technique, Fist Technique, and Qinggong, his leg technique must be lacking. I'll go up and test his leg technique. It should be an easy capture. Everyone, rest assured!"

After an incense stick's worth of time, Sun, the catcher, was defeated and his leg bone was broken.

Noon.

Li, the catcher: "Since he knows Saber Technique, Fist Technique, Qinggong, and leg technique, he probably doesn't know palm technique, right? I'll go and try."

After an incense stick's worth of time, Li, the catcher, was defeated! His arm was broken, his True Qi was in chaos, and he was like a defeated dog.

Afternoon.

Young catcher: "This is a difficult problem. Leg technique, Saber Technique, Fist Technique, palm technique, Qinggong... this kid is at least at the entry level for all of them. I can only compare swords with him. My Sword Technique is unique and I still have some confidence!"

The young catcher was defeated! He was struck by three swords and his life was hanging by a thread.

October 8th, morning.

Old catcher: "Since he knows Fist Technique, leg technique, Sword Technique... forget it, I won't go. I'm not confident!"

"How can Xing, the catcher, be so timid? We've all tried it, he can't possibly know your three-finger flick anymore. What are you afraid of?"

"That's right! We can't let the bandits gain confidence and diminish the authority of the government! We believe in you!"

"In that case, I reluctantly give it a try!"

After an incense stick's worth of time, the old catcher was defeated. He was struck by three finger flicks, three ribs were broken, and he spat out three cups of blood before returning.

The autumn colors grew deeper, and the mountain scenery was filled with a sense of desolation, just like the mood of the catchers and the catchers' assistants.

However, the catchers' mindset at this time was surprisingly balanced, and the sense of shame from being defeated by a young bandit had diminished.

After all, it's really difficult to describe and communicate the feeling of not being afraid of being outnumbered.

At this stage of the situation, the thoughts of rescuing Miss Su had faded, and the catchers' focus couldn't help but shift to Xin Zhuo.

If they originally thought that the kid's Saber Technique was amazing, now they felt that he was somewhat monstrous!

A sixteen-year-old boy who excelled in all kinds of Cultivation Techniques, and apart from Chen Jing's Fist Technique, he knew the martial arts of the other five catchers, and his proficiency was the same. He even gave several catchers the feeling of fighting against themselves.

The difference was that the thief's mindset was extremely profound and domineering, otherwise, in a simple competition, it wouldn't necessarily be a matter of who wins or loses.

So, is this a coincidence, or something else?

"This kid... could he be a monster? We, we know something, and he knows the same. Neither high nor low, evenly matched."

The young constable lay on the stretcher, his expression extremely serious as he said, "The situation is evenly matched." It seemed that there was no other explanation besides the word "monster."

"His martial arts background is questionable!"

Yuan Mo'er struggled to support her chest and coughed lightly. "The bandit stronghold couldn't possibly have so many cultivation technique scriptures. His age doesn't support him learning them one by one. Could it be that the old bandit Xin Aotian personally taught him? The old bandit is obsessed with martial arts and loves to find people to spar with. Our ancestor and him have crossed paths, and it is said that Chen's master has also crossed paths with him."

"No, that's not right! Although Xin Aotian loves to spar, he wouldn't go so far as to use the opponent's methods against them. That's the specialty of the Great Masters of the Taiping Palace. And those who spar with him wouldn't pass on their techniques to him either!"

Chen Jing pressed on his chest and said, "Xin Aotian actually comes from a humble background, and his aptitude is average. The magistrate in the prefectural city has thoroughly investigated Xin Aotian's background and found that he comes from the capital city, born into a servant family. He never married in his life, and he lived and died for martial arts!"

"Never married? Then where did Xin Zhuo come from?" the old constable asked in surprise.

Chen Jing furrowed his brow slightly. "This Xin Zhuo's identity is strange. When he was three years old, Xin Aotian took him up the mountain and publicly claimed that he was his grandson. But Xin Aotian is rough and fat like a bear, while Xin Zhuo is slender and handsome."

But that's not the point. I suspect that Xin Zhuo is a student of Dongfang Xiansheng! After all, he is also a scholar!"

The group of constables looked at each other. Dongfang Xiansheng is the head of the Qiugong Pavilion and the oldest scholar with an unknown appearance and a deep and unfathomable realm.

The young constable nodded and comforted himself, "If that's the case, it would explain a lot. Dongfang Xiansheng is a knowledgeable Deva, and our martial arts as constables are actually quite average. If someone learns from him, it would make sense."

Yuan Mo'er sneered, "Would Dongfang Xiansheng really teach a bandit student?"

"This..."

The constables were speechless. Indeed, according to what their elders had said, the Qiugong Pavilion's goal is to bring peace to the world. If they had a student who became a bandit, how could they achieve that goal?

"By the way!"

Yuan Mo'er said, "Why haven't the Wuni and the Qiugong Pavilion intervened in this big commotion?"

Chen Jing smiled bitterly. "A few days ago, I heard from a pilgrim that the Wuni and the Qiugong Pavilion are embroiled in some conflict, and the nuns and students are fighting fiercely. They don't have the leisure to deal with bandits."

The constables looked at each other again. The scholars and the nuns are fighting? If they were to report it to the authorities, who should they side with?

"Constables!"

Just then, a constable hurriedly came to report, "Young Master Murong and Master Haolexue are about to arrive!"

...

Fulong Stronghold.

In the room, Xin Zhuo looked at the Lunar Serenity Well, which had as many as twelve spirits and a long string of cultivation techniques, lost in thought.

Besides the Saber Technique, Fist Technique, and mental techniques, which had been adapted and upgraded by the Lunar Serenity Well to have certain advantages against enemies, the rest were purely direct acquisitions, quite ordinary, and too miscellaneous. The only advantage was that they could be used effortlessly.

These completely different moves could also be integrated and combined, but he felt no need to rush. They were useful for sparring with people without killing them.

Realm is the most urgent matter at hand!

Currently, it has reached seven out of six, just one step away from the seventh rank.

But, it is said that the highest-ranking constables in the lower realm, there are only six of them, and they have all come up.

Next, should we send ordinary constables of the ninth rank? Or one out of seventy-two to the seventh rank?

Or are those people mentioned in the note coming soon?

If the next person is unwilling to comply and proposes other ways to rescue Su Miaojin, should we still stubbornly insist on the plan?

At this moment, there was a faintly pleasant sound of musical instruments outside.

Xin Zhuo got up and opened the door. Huang Dagui, who was waiting outside, was carrying a wooden knife, his one eye shining, and he approached with a flattering face.

"What are your orders, Boss?"

In these past few days, the loyalty of the thieves to the Boss has changed from quantitative to qualitative. This has nothing to do with the Boss's identity, purely admiration for a master.

Xin Zhuo looked towards the direction where the music was coming from. "Who is playing the instrument?"

Huang Dagui grinned. "It's the wife of the bandit leader! She just finished washing clothes and dishes, but insisted on playing the Pipa. Qiuniang is accompanying her."

Xin Zhuo nodded and went in search of the sound of the Pipa.

There was an open space to the west of the village, with many short pine trees. Among the pine trees were six or seven mounds of fresh soil. There was a pavilion next to it, called a pavilion, but it was actually made of thatched grass and tree trunks, somewhat similar to a melon hut.

Han Qiuniang was kneeling at a larger tomb, burning paper money she had cut with her hands.

That was the tomb of her grandfather, Xin Aotian.

Su Miaojin was sitting in the pavilion, playing the Pipa. Her movements were gentle, her slender fingers lightly plucking...

However, Xin Zhuo felt that playing the Pipa at a tomb was somewhat out of place and awkward.

He walked to the tomb and burned a few sheets of paper money before asking, "Does she know this is a graveyard?"

"I don't know either," Han Qiuniang thought for a moment. "She probably doesn't know. The daughter of a wealthy family, where would she have seen a grave?"

That makes sense.

Xin Zhuo looked at the tomb for a while, wondering if his grandfather, Xin Aotian, was satisfied with such a hasty end to his heroic life.

He walked into the pavilion, sat down on the side, and looked at the abyss of clouds and mist beside him, listening to the melodious music of the beautiful woman. It had a unique flavor.

Su Miaojin glanced at him, her expression complicated. Her will to survive had gradually disappeared with the defeat of the six constables.

She had never imagined that she would encounter a monstrous young man who even the six top constables couldn't handle, all because of a single robbery.

With thoughts in her mind, her playing slowed down.

"Why don't you continue playing?" Xin Zhuo asked in surprise.

To play or not to play? Should she play for him?

Su Miaojin didn't want to meet his gaze. Holding the Pipa to partially cover her face, she remained silent for a while before continuing to play.

Playing for herself, to dispel the worries in her heart.

Unexpectedly, Xin Zhuo first stared at her in a daze, then seemed relieved. He rested his hands on his pillow and recited poetry and prose in a bored manner:

"At the head of Xunyang River, bidding farewell to a guest on a night of autumn leaves and swaying reeds...

...

After countless calls and pleas, she finally appears, still holding the Pipa to partially cover her face.

Turning the tuning pegs, plucking the strings, before the melody is formed, there is already emotion.

...

Gently gathering, slowly twisting, wiping and plucking, first the Nishang, then the Liu Yao.

The loud strings are like a heavy rain, the soft strings are like whispers.

Loud and soft, mixed and played, large beads and small beads falling on a jade plate..."

Han Qiuniang, who was burning paper money, turned her head in surprise. The Boss was reciting poetry again? It's so long!

Su Miaojin stared at Xin Zhuo in a daze, completely captivated. This was an exquisite poem, with a well-structured rhythm and perfect rhyme. It could be called a masterpiece.

It was a poem she had never heard before.

Still holding the Pipa to partially cover her face, was he talking about her?

The loud strings are like a heavy rain... the soft strings are like whispers... loud and soft, mixed and played... large beads and small beads falling on a jade plate...

With just a few lines, there was no other Pipa poem in the world.

This little thief had such literary talent, but... what was the deep loneliness on his face all about? At such a young age, with such extraordinary martial arts, shouldn't he be enjoying life and be proud?

"Boss, a large group of people has arrived below, and there's a young man with a white face, like a spinning top. He looks very arrogant!"

Just then, Huang Dagui came running over, breaking the silence.

(End of this chapter)