A Pawn's Passage

This turn of events was somewhat within Qi Xuansu’s expectations. What he had not foreseen was that the Tianchen Division would get involved. Up to now, Qi Xuansu had only heard of the Tianchen Division but had never interacted with them before.

However, Qi Xuansu had anticipated a setup, so it made perfect sense for them to show up now.

Thus, Qi Xuansu remained calm when this scene unfolded. He was not flustered or surprised.

After their last conflict with the Daoist Order, the Tianchen Division had learned a lesson. They might not have been humiliated publicly, but they knew that the Daoists were not to be trifled with, at least not openly.

Daoists had this peculiar mindset that infighting was fine, but the moment an outsider came knocking, they would all unite against a common enemy. In short, one could target a single Daoist, but it would mean challenging the entire Daoist Order at one’s peril.

When the Tianchen Division killed a Sage last time, that man was not truly deserving of death. It was a mere show of force—a warning that the Tianchen Division called the shots in the inner city and the Imperial City, even the Daoist Order was not exempt.

That act was not aimed at the man. It was aimed at the institution. The Daoists were not blind or stupid either. They were furious, thinking, What right did the Tianchen Division have to climb over our heads? Who the hell do they think they are?

The Emperor had shielded the Tianchen Division, not to insult the Daoist Order, but to preserve order. At the very least, to maintain the Tianchen Division’s deterrent value.

Besides, the Emperor technically belonged to the Daoist class, as the Great Sage Ziji. So in the end, the Daoists let it go, publicly.

But letting it go publicly did not mean they would not dig for the truth behind the scenes. In the end, every Tianchen Division member involved in the killing of the Sage died mysteriously.

If Daoists truly wanted to make it silent and clean, no one would have ever known. But revenge was not their only purpose. It was about making a point. The Tianchen Division member was shot with 8 rounds of Grade-A Series Nine Dragon Eye Bombs in the back, yet it was still ruled a suicide. Everyone with a sliver of intelligence would know that it was a cover-up, and they all knew the real cause, which was what made it effective.

That was the Daoists’ way of saying, “We’re not helpless commoners. If justice is denied to us, we’ll take it ourselves.”

Since the Daoist Order had already stepped back, it was now the Imperial Court’s turn. Even the Emperor had to step back because he could not overpower the entire Daoist Order.

Honestly, the Daoists had been relatively restrained. Had it been the Confucians in power, there would have been a few palace fires, a dead crown prince, or an emperor found drowned in his own pond. All these “accidents” would have been nothing unusual.

The Confucians, who liked to shout loyalty to the throne, were the ones least likely to respect the monarchy, as they had killed more emperors than any other sect.

After that little lesson, the Daoists’ approach of killing one to warn the masses proved quite effective. The Tianchen Division had since reined itself in. Thus, without solid evidence, they no longer dared to casually kill Daoists.

Even when they did have something concrete, they would usually seek the approval of the Emperor first, rather than blindly invoke their “execute now, report later” privilege.

That was why, even now with this situation that was clearly not standard procedure, the seven White Robes had only encircled him and had not made their move. They needed justification. The best-case scenario was that Qi Xuansu resisted, then they would have the perfect excuse to finish him off.

Qi Xuansu looked at one of the white-robed men and asked, “And you are?”

The man did not answer. Instead, he pointed at the pistol in Qi Xuansu’s hand and declared, “Possession of firearms in the Imperial Capital is a capital offense! Murder in the streets of the Imperial Capital is also a capital offense!”

He paused, then added, “Even if the man you killed deserved it, you had no right to play the judge and the executioner. This is the Imperial Capital. Heroics and vigilantism hold no weight here.”

His words were sharp and commanding. To the average person, it would have been enough to shake their confidence and make them falter.

Qi Xuansu, however, let out a laugh. “Hah! You lapdogs trying to bark about the law is the funniest thing I’ve heard all night! You shout ‘capital offense’ at every turn. How about this: if you can quote me the exact article from the Great Xuan Penal Code, I’ll kill myself on the spot. If you can’t, you have to cut out your tongue. Do we have a deal?”

The white-robed man’s face darkened. He was completely speechless.

Qi Xuansu continued, “The Great Xuan Penal Code clearly states that any civilian found in private possession of forbidden military arms—such as armor, shields, pistols, cannons, battle flags, or signaling gear—shall be flogged 80 times per item. Each additional item increases the penalty by one grade. Those who manufacture such items shall receive an additional penalty. The maximum penalty is 100 flogs and exile of 1,500 kilometers. Incomplete or unusable items shall not be counted. Such items may be voluntarily surrendered to the state. Weapons such as bows, spears, sabers, crossbows, fish spears, and pitchforks are not restricted.

“First of all, owning a firearm is not a capital offense. Secondly, this clause applies to commoners. Daoists are exempt. Moreover, when Daoist officials are dispatched, posted, or returning home, or when merchants travel for business, they are allowed to carry weapons for protection, provided they obtain a stamped permit from the Ministry of War while in the Imperial Capital or from their dispatching office and local authorities while in the other states. All items must be declared for inspection, and permits must be submitted upon return. Failure to turn in the permit shall be treated as a violation.”

As he spoke, Qi Xuansu produced a stamped permit from his magical receptacle, holding it between two fingers while casually waving it around.

Of course, Qi Xuansu had not filed it himself. His deacons handled it. The Ministry of War did not nitpick over these things with Daoist officials because it was routine. Sometimes, they would even deliver the permits preemptively, which were usually good for three years.

An ordinary person would not have known the law, so they would panic as soon as these White Robes barked some threats. If they decide to make a run for it, the White Robes would have the perfect excuse to strike.

However, Qi Xuansu had been warned. Ever since Xu Kou told him that he would be sent to the Imperial Capital as a superintendent, he had locked himself away in the Gen Garden of the Upper Palace and read the Great Xuan Penal Code cover to cover. After breaking through to the Cicada Shedding Realm, his memory had become far sharper than any ordinary person’s, so he could now quote every article effortlessly.

If he were not so familiar with the Great Xuan Penal Code, he would never have found that loophole about the Daoist Kindred status to begin with.

Truth be told, Qi Xuansu did not really care for the law deep down. But when in the public eye, he upheld it like sacred scripture, reverently placing it upon an untouchable pedestal.

It was like that famous saying that even the Crown Prince must answer to the law, just like any commoner. Nobody actually believed it because was it truly ever enforced? If they believed it, they could try arresting a royal and see how long they could keep their position. However, even if they did not believe the saying, no one would dare challenge it in public.

Qi Xuansu was relentless. “What a big mouth you’ve got to speak of capital offense at every turn. The Great Xuan Penal Code isn’t your family’s rulebook—you can’t change it at will. Who gave you the authority to rewrite national law?!”

The white-robed man had tried to seize the initiative and show some muscle. Instead, he had mistakenly exposed his backside. He was used to throwing his weight around the Imperial Capital, so when had he ever needed to quote the law? Who among them had even read the Great Xuan Penal Code? Faced with Qi Xuansu’s sharp retort, he was utterly dumbstruck.

Another white-robed man stepped in. “The Emperor granted us the right to execute first and report later! We have the privilege to kill with no questions asked!”

Qi Xuansu turned and locked eyes with him. “Nicely said. But even if you execute first and report later, you must have a reason, right? There must be some standard for who deserves to die, no? You can’t just kill anyone just because you feel like killing, can you? What’s next? Are you going to slay a duke today and a minister tomorrow? Is that still imperial privilege? Who decides when your kill is justified?”

That man faltered too—tongue-tied.

Qi Xuansu continued, “As I see it, the right to execute first and report later granted by the Great Sage Ziji means you’re allowed to judge and sentence on the spot. But sentencing must still be based on something. You can’t just go with your gut.”

A third white-robed woman did not back down. “This justification doesn’t always have to be the Great Xuan Penal Code!”

Qi Xuansu chuckled. “You serve the Great Xuan Court; you draw your salary from the Great Xuan Treasury; you swear fealty to the Great Xuan Emperor; you enforce justice in the Great Xuan Imperial Capital, but you tell me that you don’t follow the Great Xuan Penal Code? Then what do you follow? Your own Tianchen Division’s bylaws? I’m curious—when did internal policy start outranking national law?”

The woman’s face flushed with frustration. She, too, could not answer this tricky question. She could argue for argument’s sake, but this was official business, not a debate at a tavern. If she said the wrong thing at this time, it would come back to bite her. After all, words could kill, just like swords.

The fourth white-robed man, who looked older and more experienced, finally spoke. “The Great Xuan Penal Code is important, but the Emperor’s decree always takes precedence.”

Qi Xuansu did not dispute that. He did not go down the rabbit hole of whether the Emperor trumps the law. Instead, he said calmly, “Then show me the Great Sage Ziji’s written decree. You can’t just say you have a decree and expect everyone to believe it. After all, the law is the foundation of a nation. You can’t cite whispers where written law should stand.”

Just like that, the fourth man fell silent too. Of course, they had no such written decree.

Qi Xuansu’s eyes were sharp as blades. “So in the end, you have nothing—just bluster and bravado. You throw out words like capital offense as if they cost nothing. But without law, how do you judge an offense? From what I can see, you’re the ones violating the Great Xuan Penal Code. I’d suggest you all do more reading and less acting. Try actually studying the law before you go waving it around.”

The six White Robes fell silent. Their plan had been simple—slap two capital charges onto Qi Xuansu, shake him into panic, force him into rash action, then they would have free rein to hunt him down like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

But Qi Xuansu had flipped the script. The very legal noose they had fashioned for him was now snug around their own necks. Whatever they had left to say withered in their throats.

As for the charge of murder, Qi Xuansu had not even fired the shot yet. So if they insisted on that claim, they would only embarrass themselves further.

Qi Xuansu sneered. “Pardon my vulgar tongue—but you’re like a whore trying to brag about her chastity. If you want to kill me, just do it. Stop pretending it’s about justice and righteousness. If you’re going to act like prostitutes, don’t dress like nuns.”