Chapter 017: The Heart-Shattering Palm (Please Add to Favorites and Recommend)

A storm is brewing, winds filling the halls—so it is, indeed. Yao Qian sighed inwardly, and together they returned to the yamen.

No sooner had they stepped into the rear office than they saw the magistrate, round as a ball, bustling anxiously back and forth like an ant on a hot pan. Old Wang stood off to the side, his face grim as iron, a chill radiating from his entire being that warned strangers to keep their distance. As for Inspector Chen, he was nowhere to be seen, perhaps tending to his brother’s affairs.

Upon seeing Yao Qian enter, the portly magistrate immediately turned toward him, his face alight with hope. He knew now was not the time for politeness, especially when the deceased had been one of the original’s closest friends, so he asked directly, “Sir, Uncle Wang, what on earth happened? How could Chen Wu possibly have…”

Yao Qian found himself unable to finish the sentence. A knot of doubt had taken hold of his heart. Chen Shanqi, the Heartbreaker Palm, was already past fifty. By rights, a practitioner of external martial arts at his age should no longer possess peak strength—perhaps not even forty or fifty percent of it. How could he, beset from all sides, still kill with ease and escape unscathed?

“Could it be that old fox has mastered internal arts?” Yao Qian’s eyes flashed with realization. If that were true, it was like searching for iron shoes in vain only to find them without effort.

Seeing Yao Qian’s eagerness, the magistrate’s face brightened. He hurried forward, grasped his hand, and said, “Yuan Zhen, the Heartbreaker Palm is steeped in wickedness, his crimes too numerous to record. Such a fiend must not be allowed to remain in Pingyang, to bring harm to the townsfolk and our families!”

On the magistrate’s round, rosy face, his eyes narrowed to slits, as if he might even squeeze out a tear or two, but it was all for naught; he could only cover his face with his sleeve and let out a few hollow wails.

Though Yao Qian had his own thoughts, he was not about to reveal them so easily. Besides, it was clear that the magistrate needed him to deal with the Heartbreaker Palm. If he didn’t seize the chance to claim a reward, how could he face Old Wang after so many years of mentorship?

He put on a troubled expression. “Your Excellency, please don’t make things difficult for me. Even while surrounded, that villain still killed Brother Chen Wu with a single blow. If I seek him out now, it will change nothing—perhaps it will only add another corpse to the tally.”

Speaking of Chen Wu, he appeared grief-stricken, as if he might howl to the heavens to express the depth of his suffering.

Old Wang voiced his opposition as well. “Sir, the Heartbreaker Palm, that old scoundrel Chen, is truly unfathomable. Even now, I cannot tell how he struck. If Yuan Zhen were to come to harm, how could I answer to our colleagues and brothers?”

The thought of facing the Heartbreaker Palm made Old Wang’s face grow even darker.

At their words, the magistrate’s wailing ceased. He gritted his teeth and said, “If even you, Old Wang, say so, then the Heartbreaker Palm must be truly formidable. Very well—if Yuan Zhen can drive the old scoundrel out of Pingyang, never to return, the yamen will pay a reward of one hundred taels of silver. If you capture or slay him, the reward is doubled. What do you say?”

This time, the portly magistrate was offering a hefty sum. The thought of two hundred taels made his heart ache, his jowly face quivering as if he’d cut into his own flesh.

Yao Qian’s heart stirred at the offer. Two hundred taels was a considerable fortune, enough to tempt anyone. At present, he barely owned a single tael, and training the Iron Robe required a fortune in silver. The ointments alone for his five days of training had cost dozens of taels—left over from his Arhat Robe days. Were he to pay out of pocket, he’d be penniless, perhaps even in debt.

With those two hundred taels, his immediate troubles would be solved.

He was about to accept when Old Wang spoke up. “Sir, the Heartbreaker Palm will not be so easily dealt with. If Yuan Zhen is to take action, he must be allowed to bring enough men with him, and the armory’s supplies must be made available as well, to guard against the unexpected.”

The magistrate fell silent at Old Wang’s request. After a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and made his decision.

“Very well, Old Wang, I’ll do as you say. Yuan Zhen, I hope you won’t let me down. The safety of all Pingyang now rests in your hands. Do your best—do not let that villain escape.”

With these words, perhaps fearing Old Wang would ask for more, the magistrate offered a few earnest exhortations and then rolled away like a ball, hands clasped behind his back.

Soon, only Yao Qian and Old Wang remained in the rear office.

Old Wang let out a long, weary sigh. In that moment, the once high-spirited man seemed to have aged considerably.

“Are you truly set on dealing with the Heartbreaker Palm?”

He had seen through Yao Qian’s intentions earlier; his interjection was meant to win him greater reward, but what weighed on his heart now was worry.

Having fought the Heartbreaker Palm before, he knew how unpredictable his strength was. Yao Qian had barely studied martial arts for a few months—though he had slain Bonegrinder Yu Hongchuan, facing the Heartbreaker Palm now was, in Old Wang’s eyes, beyond his ability.

“Yes, but don’t worry, Uncle. I have already mastered the Iron Robe, Arhat Robe’s famed technique.”

Yao Qian could see Old Wang’s hesitation—a man once bold, now cautious with age. In youth, one charges ahead; in old age, prudence and moderation prevail. He mentioned mastering the Iron Robe to bolster Old Wang’s confidence.

Sure enough, Old Wang’s expression shifted at the mention of the Iron Robe, but recalling the Heartbreaker Palm’s prowess, his face dimmed once more.

“Don’t worry. I have served in Pingyang’s yamen for decades. I will not be easily cowed.”

He eyed Yao Qian, suspecting that the claim was only meant to reassure him. To master the Iron Robe in five days was implausible—even without firsthand experience, he knew that external arts were far more difficult to master than sword or saber techniques.

Still, he did not expose Yao Qian’s intent, simply saying, “Very well. In a while, I’ll take you to the armory to select a suit of solid armor. Perhaps it can withstand the Heartbreaker Palm—then we can surround and kill him.”

They talked for a while longer, then Old Wang led Yao Qian toward the yamen’s armory.

He had served long enough to know the armory well, though entry required the magistrate’s hand-written order. It was always forbidden ground—mere constables had never set foot within.

Yao Qian knew only that the armory held all manner of items confiscated from the martial world over the years: weapons, hidden projectiles, even secret manuals. The court seemed indifferent to such manuals—only those of the third rank or higher were sent to the capital, while local officials often kept copies for themselves.

He had heard Chen Zekuan mention this once, and had considered that perhaps it was a tacit understanding between court and officials.

Lost in thought, he soon found himself, with Old Wang, standing before a stone chamber—the government armory.