Chapter 669
Fu Shaoping shouted, unsheathed his heavy sword and thrust it between the two sides, the sword energy drew a deep mark on the ground. All the magic attacks collided with the sword energy and were instantly eliminated.
"Private fighting is prohibited in Qingyun Town. Violators will be expelled from the spiritual vein area for three years." Fu Shaoping glanced at everyone coldly, "This is the final warning."
Elder Zhao, the leader of Qingxia Sect, sneered: "Fu Shaoping, you are just an outsider cultivator. Do you really think you are the master of Qingyun Town? Chixiao Sect stole my spiritual herbs first."
"Evidence." Fu Shaoping interrupted him, "If you can't produce evidence, it's a false accusation, which is aggravated."
Elder Zhao was speechless, and then said firmly: "Why should I, the Qingxia Sect, explain my actions to a junior like you!"
Fu Shaoping suddenly laughed. That smile made Elder Zhao feel a chill on his back. The sword cultivator who last entered the main altar on the night of the demise of the Xuanyin Sect 20 years ago also laughed like this.
"Then follow the rules of the world of immortal cultivation." Fu Shaoping raised the heavy sword with one hand, "We will fight to determine the right and wrong. If I lose, I will resign from the post of town hall; if you lose, Qingxia Sect will withdraw from the distribution of Qingyun Town's spiritual veins."
The stakes were too high, and Elder Zhao's expression changed again and again. Just when he was in a dilemma, a cold voice interrupted:
"Wait a minute."
Nangong Wan appeared at the corner of the street without knowing when, accompanied by a timid young monk. The man was wearing the clothes of a low-level disciple of Qingxia Sect and holding a purple-black box in his hand.
"Elder Zhao, why don't you explain first why the Xuanyin Sect's 'Seven Evils Gathering Yin Box' is hidden in your sect's medicine garden?" Nangong Wan's voice was not loud, but it made the whole street silent in an instant.
Elder Zhao's face turned pale: "Nonsense! That's clearly..."
The young disciple suddenly knelt down and said, "Elder, please forgive me! It was Senior Brother Liu who asked me to take this box from the storeroom. He said it was used to cultivate Yinming grass. I didn't know it was an evil thing!"
The crowd was in an uproar. Xuanyin Sect was an absolute taboo in Qingyun Town, and any connection with it was enough to bring ruin to a sect.
Fu Shaoping turned his sword and pointed it at Elder Zhao: "Now, we can have a good talk."
In the dim morning light, the bluestone pavement of East Street in Qingyun Town still retains moisture from the night dew.
Fu Shaoping was reviewing the documents on the allocation of spiritual fields in the town hall when he suddenly paused with the brush in his hand, and a drop of ink smudged on the rice paper. His ears moved slightly, catching the fluctuations of spiritual power coming from afar - someone was fighting!
"Qiang——"
The roar of a heavy sword being unsheathed echoed in the hall, and the documents on the table were blown up by the sword energy. When the last page of paper fell to the ground, Fu Shaoping's figure had already disappeared outside the door.
At the corner of East Street, three casual cultivators surrounded a young woman in a triangle. The sleeve of the woman's left arm was torn, revealing three bloodstains. In her hand, she was holding a nine-leaf spiritual herb that was emitting a faint green light.
"Little girl, hand over the Resurrection Grass!" The scarred monk in the lead gathered a ball of red flame in his palm, "Otherwise the next fireball will hit you in the face!"
"This is what my master used to save his life!" The woman took a half step back stubbornly, her back against the cold brick wall, "You robbers."
"court death!"
The fireball whizzed out and the woman closed her eyes in despair.
"boom!"
After a loud bang, the expected burning pain did not come. The woman opened her eyes tremblingly, and saw a heavy black iron sword inserted three steps in front of her. The sword body sank more than half a foot into the bluestone, and the ground around it cracked like a spider web. The fireball hit the hilt of the sword and had already turned into sparks and dissipated in the morning breeze.
"Private fighting is prohibited in Qingyun Town."
A deep voice came from the sky. Everyone looked up and saw a slender figure falling from the sky, the hem of his black suit rustling as he landed steadily on the hilt of the sword. The figure of the person was as thin as a pine tree, and his eyes were cold and sharp under his sword-like eyebrows.
"Fu Fu, the town guard!" The woman recognized that this was Fu Shaoping, the new town guard of Qingyun Town who had just taken office three months ago. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes, "They stole Master's Nine Revolutions Resurrection Grass and injured Master!"
Fu Shaoping tapped the hilt of the sword with his toes and floated down. With a wave of his right hand, the heavy sword broke out of the ground with a buzzing sound and fell steadily back into his palm. The sword turned and pointed directly at the three casual cultivators: "Is this true?"
The scarred monk in the lead had beads of sweat on his forehead and forced a sneer: "Nonsense! This spiritual herb was discovered by our brothers in Luofeng Mountain, and this little girl wanted to rob it."
"Oh?" Fu Shaoping's eyes swept across the waists of the three people, "Then why is the storage bag of her pharmacy hidden in your lapel?"
Before he finished speaking, Fu Shaoping's left hand formed into a claw and grabbed in mid-air. Before the scarred monk could react, a green cloth bag with the word "Herbs" embroidered on it tore through his clothes and landed steadily in Fu Shaoping's palm.
"You stole and injured others. According to the town rules, you should be stripped of your cultivation and expelled from Qingyun." Fu Shaoping held his heavy sword horizontally, "Considering that this is your first offense, I will only cut off one of your arms today."
The sword flashed, and the three casual cultivators hurriedly used their magic weapons to resist. However, they did not expect that the seemingly heavy black iron sword was as nimble as a snake in Fu Shaoping's hand. Three crisp sounds were heard in succession, and the three magic weapons shattered.
"Wait a minute."
A cold female voice came from the alley. Accompanied by a faint lotus fragrance, a white figure floated over. The person was wearing a moon-white silk skirt, her black hair was simply tied into a Taoist bun, her eyebrows and eyes were picturesque but cold as ice. She held a bamboo scroll in her left hand, and pinched the magic formula in her right hand. Her toes were three inches off the ground, and she came in the air.
Fu Shaoping frowned slightly: "Miss Nangong?"
The visitor was Nangong Wan, the current head of the Nangong family in Qingyun Town, and also the clerk of the town hall. Although she was only 22 years old, she was respected by the townspeople because she was proficient in hundreds of martial arts and had memorized the town's chronicles.
Nangong Wan nodded slightly and handed the bamboo slips to Fu Shaoping: "I received a document from Linzhen yesterday. These three people also committed theft in Qingluo Town." She paused and her voice became colder. "I'm afraid they are not ordinary casual cultivators, but the 'Three Evils of Black Wind'."
Hearing this name, Xiaoyu, the apprentice of the medicine shop hiding behind Fu Shaoping, turned pale and said, "He is the one who wiped out the entire Chen family in Luoxia Valley last year."
Fu Shaoping's eyes gleamed with brilliance, and his heavy sword hummed. "No wonder you were able to take my attack without dying."
The scarred monk saw that his identity was exposed, and suddenly laughed grimly, and took out a blood-red bead from his arms: "Since you have recognized me, let's die together!"
"Bloody Thunder! Retreat quickly!" Nangong Wan shouted sternly, and at the same time, he clasped his hands together, and a green light curtain instantly unfolded.
Fu Shaoping did not retreat but advanced, his heavy sword turned into a black rainbow and stabbed out. The moment the tip of the sword hit the blood bead accurately, he shook his wrist and the sword body vibrated at a strange frequency. The blood thunder that was enough to flatten half a street was actually wrapped in sword energy, spinning rapidly in the air but did not explode. "Give it back to you!"
Fu Shaoping raised his sword and the blood beads flew back. The three casual cultivators were horrified and before they could dodge, they were blown to pieces by the blood thunder he had summoned.
The aftermath of the explosion was blocked by Nangong Wan's light curtain. When the smoke and dust cleared, Fu Shaoping was seen standing there holding a sword. The three feet of ground around him was intact, but the bluestone slabs on the outside had been shattered into powder.
"Leave someone alive!" Nangong Wan's reminder was a step too late. He couldn't help but frown when he saw the body parts scattered all over the ground.
Fu Shaoping sheathed his sword and said, "It is not a pity for such a villain to die."
"There may be someone behind them." Nangong Wan sighed and leaned over to examine the body. She found an iron plate with strange runes engraved on it from the scarred monk's tattered clothes.
Fu Shaoping took a closer look and his expression changed slightly: "The mark of the Xuanyin Sect?"
Nangong Wan quickly put away the iron plate and said to the townspeople who were watching: "I hope you won't spread what happened today." She turned to the frightened Xiaoyu and said, "How is the girl's injury? I have some excellent medicine for wounds."
Fu Shaoping watched Nangong Wan handle the scene skillfully and appease the people, and was secretly amazed. This seemingly cold and frosty woman was so thoughtful in her handling of things.
When the crowd dispersed and Nangong Wan was about to leave, Fu Shaoping suddenly asked, "How come Miss Nangong arrived so timely?"
Nangong Wan paused and said without turning her head, "Every day at noon, I will check the streets and alleys as usual." Her profile was picturesque, and her eyelashes cast a faint shadow in the morning light. "Fu Zhenshou's swordsmanship is superb, but governing a town cannot rely solely on force."
Fu Shaoping looked at her receding figure, thinking. He bent down to pick up the scattered Nine-Turn Resurrection Grass on the ground and found that the blood stains on the leaves were actually sealed by a thin layer of ice, and the medicinal properties were not damaged at all - this was a spell that Nangong Wan cast when he passed by.
"Interesting." Fu Shaoping raised his lips slightly, shouldered his heavy sword, and strode towards the town hall. The morning light stretched his shadow very long, and it briefly intersected with the shadow of the white figure in the distance on the ground, and then separated.
The town bell rang seven times, and a new day officially began in Qingyun Town.
The summer night in Qingyun Town was so hot and humid that even the cicadas seemed weak. Fu Shaoping sat alone in his study, beads of sweat oozing from his forehead, but he was unaware of it. He had already read most of the Qingyun Sect Records in front of him, and the candlelight cast flickering light and shadows on the pages.
"The Chixiao Sect was founded 120 years ago. The current sect master is Zhao Tiangang, who is in the middle stage of the Golden Core. He mainly practices the Chiyang Kung, which requires the harmony of the Yin Sha Qi of Earth Fire." Fu Shaoping read in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously stroking the beautiful handwriting on the paper. He was very familiar with these handwritings, which were written by Nangong Wan.
He looked out the window, the moonlight pouring down into the courtyard like water. Three months ago, when Nangong Wan proposed to visit various sects, he scoffed. "What's the point of knowing these? Fists are the hard truth." He remembered what he said at the time.
The pages were densely covered with annotations, and in some places there were even simple maps of the direction of the spiritual veins. Fu Shaoping turned to the chapter on the Green Bamboo Gang and found that in addition to the characteristics of the martial arts, it also recorded in detail the family background of the current gang leader Sun Tieshan - his father died in the monster tide twenty years ago, so he had an obsession with guarding the border.
"No wonder." Fu Shaoping muttered to himself. Today, Sun Tieshan's words in the meeting hall, "I have fought for Qingyun Town for twenty years," suddenly became real. He remembered his reaction at that time - his hand was already on the hilt of the sword. If it weren't for Nangong Wan.
"Shaoping, haven't you rested yet?"
A soft voice came from the door. Nangong Wan was wearing a plain white dress, with only a wooden hairpin in her hair, and holding a tea tray in her hand. Fu Shaoping was shocked to realize that it was already three o'clock in the morning.
"When did you organize these?" Fu Shaoping pointed to the books on the table, his voice a little dry.
Nangong Wan placed the tea on the table, and the fragrance of the tea immediately filled the stuffy room. "I'll write down some every night when I come back." She said casually, "Try the 'Yunwuqing' that the Qingzhu Gang sent. It's said to be soothing."
Fu Shaoping picked up the teacup, and his tired face was reflected in the green tea soup. The tea fragrance was clear, with a hint of bamboo leaves. "If it weren't for you today..."
"Everyone gets what they deserve." Nangong Wan sat down opposite him, the moonlight shining through the window lattice, casting mottled light and shadows on her face. "Father often said that governance is not about driving everyone onto one path, but about allowing everyone to walk a path that suits them."
Fu Shaoping sipped his tea in silence. He recalled that when he first took over as the governor ten years ago, the first thing he did was to suppress three small sects that refused to obey the rules. At that time, the old governor shook his head and said, "Shaoping, governance is not war." He didn't agree at that time.
"I have an idea." Nangong Wan suddenly said, "We can hold a sect council on the first and fifteenth day of each month, and let representatives from each sect discuss town affairs together."
"What?" Fu Shaoping's hand trembled, and tea splashed on the pages of the book. He hurriedly wiped it with his sleeve, "Let those sects participate in town affairs? They will only quarrel for their own interests!"
Nangong Wan took out his handkerchief calmly and gently wiped the water stains: "That's why we need a platform. You also saw today that when they feel that their voices are heard, they are more likely to accept the arrangement."
Fu Shaoping frowned. In the teachings he received, authority cannot be challenged, and it is natural for the weak to obey the strong. "This is too idealistic. In the world of cultivation, the strong prey on the weak. Without the backing of strength, any parliament is just empty talk."
"Strength is more than just fists, Shao Ping." Nangong Wan's voice was still soft, but his eyes became firm. "Real strength is convincing. Just like today, I didn't use a single bit of spiritual power, but I made more than a dozen foundation-building stage leaders listen to me quietly."
Fu Shaoping opened his mouth to speak, but found that he could not refute. He stood up irritably and paced back and forth in the study. The moonlight stretched his shadow very long, and he looked particularly lonely on the wall.
"You've changed." He suddenly said, "When you were little, you obviously hated these tedious tasks and always said that practicing swordsmanship was more fun."
Nangong Wan smiled slightly, the teardrop mole at the corner of her eye faintly visible in the moonlight: "People will always change. Just like you, aren't you also reading these 'complicated' materials now?"
Fu Shaoping was speechless. He looked down at the pages of the book that he had turned to the point of curling up, and suddenly realized that he had indeed changed. Or rather, he was changing.
"I'll think about it," he said finally.
Nangong Wan nodded and stood up to leave. When she reached the door, she turned around and said, "By the way, Chixiao Sect and Qingzhu Gang will negotiate at the Lingtian border tomorrow. Do you want to come along?"
Fu Shaoping subconsciously wanted to refuse, but when the words came to his lips, they turned into: "Okay."
When Nangong Wan's footsteps faded away, Fu Shaoping sat back at his desk, but could not read a single word. He stood up and walked to the courtyard. The night breeze blew across his sweaty back, bringing a hint of coolness. Looking up, Nangong Wan's attic was still lit, and her figure writing quickly at her desk was reflected on the window paper.
The next morning, Fu Shaoping rarely did morning exercises. He came to the meeting room early and found Nangong Wan already sorting out a pile of documents.
"This is?"
"Each sect sent a plan for the use of the spiritual fields." Nangong Wan answered without raising his head, "I asked them to draft one for reference during today's negotiations." (End of this chapter)