Chapter Twenty-Three: The Invincible Sovereign Sword Technique

The former master held deep admiration for his legendary father, a hero whose deeds seemed woven from myth. When he left Northern Tomb City years ago, he took nothing but his parents’ belongings. Yet, he could never bring himself to face the truth of Li Jia’s sudden death in battle—thus, he had never paid his respects all these years. Only Li Yunjie understood that beneath the surface of this pleasure-seeking noble lay an unspoken longing for his family.

“Who could it be?” Eleven murmured, his gaze lingering on the remnants of incense atop the table. “The prince is in the capital—could there be an old acquaintance?”

“Perhaps,” Li Yunjie replied, his brow furrowing. “But if it’s truly an old friend, why all the secrecy?”

“It’s not as if it’s something shameful,” Eleven agreed with a nod.

Li Yunjie moved to the main hall, brushing dust from the threshold as he sat heavily.

“In any case, it’s nothing bad,” he said. “Though I don’t know who it is, at least the couple hasn’t been entirely alone all these years.” With this thought, the guilt weighing on Li Yunjie’s heart eased somewhat.

He sighed softly, then changed the subject. “Eleven, did my father ever leave me any treasures?”

Eleven’s expression darkened. “So that’s why you suddenly wanted to return home today. I thought maybe you’d finally grown a conscience…” He knew his master’s temperament all too well. For the past decade, Li Yunjie had celebrated every festival with great fanfare—except for Qingming, when he’d simply go to a tavern and spend the night with a few girls. Today, to suddenly return to offer incense to the old man—it didn’t fit Li Yunjie’s image in his eyes.

Li Yunjie tapped Eleven’s forehead lightly. “Do you really think I’m that sort of person?” He sighed again, his gaze drifting through the side door toward the front courtyard. “Zhao Heng caused such a stir today—he must be after something.”

Eleven glanced at the overgrown backyard, puzzled. “Isn’t His Highness here to renovate the prince’s manor?”

“Are you daft?” Li Yunjie rolled his eyes. “Zhao Heng, so generous? I bumped into him at the Ministry of Justice the other day. If he doesn’t come after me, I should count myself lucky. Renovate my house? Unless he’s gone mad!”

Suddenly enlightened, Eleven whispered, “So you mean the crown prince is using the renovation as a pretext to steal something?”

Li Yunjie nodded. “All this commotion—whatever it is, it must be important. Think hard!”

Eleven closed his eyes in deep thought. After a moment, he sprang up. “I’ve got it!” He turned and entered the ancestral hall, retrieving a long sword from the altar and handing it to Li Yunjie.

“My father’s sword from his lifetime.”

Li Yunjie took the sword, and distant memories surged forth. Li Jia had always carried this blade by his side. When Li Yunjie sorted through his father’s belongings, he brought it to the capital. Yet, in his recollection, it was hardly a treasure.

He studied it closely for a while. The wooden scabbard bore countless scars. The iron hilt was mottled with rust.

Even the tassel was tattered and incomplete. By all appearances, it was anything but a treasure.

“This broken sword?” He drew the blade from its sheath. “And it’s incomplete?”

Seeing only half a blade, Li Yunjie’s hopes fell away.

“Yes!” Eleven nodded vigorously. “The old prince used this sword to rout the bandits of the Northern Steppe!”

Li Yunjie’s vision darkened. Li Jia had been a second-rank master; he could kill with sticks and leaves, let alone a sword.

Seeing Eleven’s excited face, Li Yunjie couldn’t bear to interrupt. Perhaps in Eleven’s eyes, it truly was a treasure.

He put away the broken sword and asked, “Is there nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” Eleven replied decisively.

Li Yunjie sighed inwardly. Clearly, this wasn’t what Zhao Heng was searching for. Though he didn’t know exactly what the crown prince sought, it seemed today’s attempt had failed. This thought brought him a measure of relief.

“So be it,” he said, tucking the broken sword at his waist. “At least it’s a sword—better than nothing.”

“Are you set on learning swordsmanship, then?” Eleven asked.

Li Yunjie glanced at the misty courtyard, his voice low. “My old man practiced the sword. I suppose it’s only fitting I follow in his footsteps.”

Eleven smiled slyly, turned, and entered the ancestral hall again. He pulled a dusty blue-covered book from beneath the table leg.

“What’s this?” Li Yunjie asked, his brow furrowed.

Eleven blew away the dust and wiped the cover with his sleeve. “The prince’s own sword manual. Don’t you remember? The year you first came to the capital, you used it to prop up your father’s table.”

Li Yunjie thought for a while but recalled nothing. Still, such wastefulness fit the character of the prior master.

He took the manual and nearly choked when he saw the title on the cover.

“Invincible Under Heaven—The Sword of Supreme Dominance.”

What sort of name was that!?

Li Yunjie’s legs buckled as he leaned against the carved dragon pillar. Thinking back, the Li family truly had a knack for bizarre names. His father was named Li Jia; his uncle, Li Yi. It all sounded like random choices. Fortunately, his mother, Zhao Yan, was learned and gifted, giving him the name Li Yunjie. Had Li Jia named him, he would have been Li San or Li Si—what a laughingstock that would have been!

Steadying himself, Li Yunjie put away the sword manual.

“I’ll make do for now,” he said, placing his parents’ spirit tablets against his chest. He picked up the battered umbrella he’d broken in his earlier fight with Wu Jin and headed toward the front courtyard.

On the way back to the Prime Minister’s residence, he passed the roast goose shop on Taiping Street.

“Eleven, go buy two roast geese.”

Remembering he owed Su Xiyan several roast geese, Li Yunjie felt a pang of guilt and changed his mind. “Three. Two packed to go—one as usual, split between us.”

“Alright!” Eleven went off cheerfully.

Just ten meters south of the roast goose shop stood the Grand Court.

Li Yunjie paused to gaze at it for a long while.

“If I were to become an official, the Grand Court would suit me well,” he murmured. For one, Li Yunjie was a police academy graduate—the job matched his training. For another, during the joint tribunal, Li Yunjie noticed that Chief Xu Changfeng was not aligned with the crown prince. In fact, he seemed close to Su Ming—essentially, a “family friend.”

“Master,” Eleven called, handing him half a roast goose.

They walked as they ate, returning to the Prime Minister’s residence before dusk.

Li Yunjie carried the two roast geese to Su Xiyan’s door.

“Sis…”

Before he could knock, Su Xiyan opened the door. Her large, sparkling eyes stared straight at him. She raised her willow-like brows, pouted, looking every bit the proud little princess.

With a flourish, her delicate hand extended toward Li Yunjie.

Give back the goose!

Li Yunjie understood immediately, raising the oilpaper bag with two roast geese.

The girl’s face lit up in instant joy.

“These two are interest,” Li Yunjie grinned. “I’ll buy you more another day.”

Su Xiyan took the bag, her watery eyes widening even more.

“Of course it’s true!” Li Yunjie read her gaze and replied, “I always keep my word!”

Su Xiyan hugged the roast goose, her eyes glowing as she rushed inside to feast.

“Xiyan hasn’t been this happy in ages…” Su Qingmeng murmured from nearby, watching the scene unfold.

“Li Yunjie…just what kind of person are you…”