Chapter 12: The Rod

　　Pleased with the proceedings, the King of Wei was generous in his bestowal. The Earl of Chen's mansion was vast in its grounds and lay not far from the center of Dingrong—a spacious compound of grand courtyards and resplendent halls, whose scale rivaled even the mansions of the highest princes.

　　Its location in the heart of Dingrong, close to the royal palace, was the most sought-after quarter for the kingdom's most illustrious ministers and nobles. It was clear, then, that Grand Tutor Jiwei had given considerable thought to its selection.

　　The newly ennobled Earl of Chen and his party arrived at the mansion gates in a grand procession. The guards assigned to the earl's household already stood in two rows outside the main gate, while a throng of maidservants and servants knelt in obeisance.

　　The young earl's face betrayed no emotion as he stepped down from his carriage. Then, without warning, an object came plummeting from above—straight toward the earl's gate.

　　The young earl, having achieved some success in Qi Refining, was hardly about to be struck. Without shifting his stance, he kept his hands behind his back and simply lifted his left foot, kicking the incoming object back where it came from. The onlookers saw that it was a fruit with a single bite taken out of it.

　　Their eyes followed the trajectory of the half-eaten fruit as it flew back toward the top of the mansion's main gate.

　　There, sprawled casually upon the ridge tiles, lay another boy. He rested his head on one hand, legs crossed, one foot jiggling lazily in the air. Beside him lay an open pouch spilling over with a variety of fruits and other snacks.

　　The kicked fruit returned with greater speed than it had come, whistling through the air as it hurtled toward the boy's face. At the last moment, the boy tilted his head aside and let it pass with ease.

　　The young earl showed no reaction—neither anger nor surprise. The boy, however, sprang to his feet and burst into a stream of curses: "Where did this snot-nosed little brat come from, daring to claim a title in Great Wei? I'll teach you a lesson, you ungrateful little wretch!" In calling the young earl a snot-nosed brat, he quite forgot that he himself was no more than a boy.

　　Still cursing, the boy continued hurling handfuls of snacks at the young earl.

　　"Whose little bastard is this? Doesn't he know this is a royal mansion?" the young earl asked the Wei court official who had guided them here, without so much as glancing at the boy, as he effortlessly kicked back the barrage of flying food.

　　This only enraged the boy further. He stopped lounging and leaped to his feet, jumping and cursing with renewed vigor.

　　The onlookers found the scene quietly amusing. Chen Jiang and the others, seeing no real danger, made no move to intervene.

　　The guards stationed at the gate to receive the earl finally stepped forward to restrain the boy. But the boy was nimble—he hurled a few more curses, then slipped away like oil on water, vaulting over the mansion wall and vanishing in an instant.

　　The guards made no serious effort to pursue. They shouted a few times, ran some fifty paces, then turned back when the boy was out of sight.

　　With that commotion, the once grand welcoming ceremony dissolved into nothing. The young earl waved his hand, said not a word, and walked straight into the mansion.

　　The guards at the gate exchanged bewildered looks. At last, one of them, a burly man, said, "Let's call it off."

　　Two guards remained at the mansion gate. The others dispersed to their respective posts, no longer lingering to watch.

　　The lead guard followed the young earl through the main gate. When the earl turned to face him, the guard dropped to one knee and said, "This humble one is Su Wuding, head of the earl's household guard. I failed in my duty to receive you properly, allowing Your Lordship to be disturbed..."

　　Hearing the voice, the young earl turned and looked at the head of his household guard, cutting him off mid-sentence: "Since you admit to having failed in your duty to receive me properly, then go and receive your punishment—you and every guard outside the gate, twenty strokes apiece." Without waiting for the stunned Su Wuding to respond, he turned and began surveying his new mansion.

　　Su Wuding did not know whether to rise or remain kneeling—he was frozen in place. Then the young earl let out a cold snort: "Did you not hear what I said?" At this, Su Wuding broke into a sweat, rose hastily, and backed away.

　　The young earl's voice followed him: "Commander Chen, take the rod. And another thing—I was created an earl by the King of Wei himself, with full honor and legitimacy. What is this 'little earl' business? If I hear that word again, it will be forty strokes. Since this is your first offense, I will let the forty go—this time."

　　Chen Jiang acknowledged the order with a smile, a thick punishing rod already in his hand—as if he had been prepared for it all along.

　　Su Wuding was seething with rage. In his mind, he cursed the young Chen prince and all his ancestors. But he was helpless. He could only pass the order down the line.

　　Before long, the mansion echoed with the groans and shouts of the guards being punished.

　　The maidservants and servants, still kneeling without having received any word from their new master, trembled in fear—some of them shaking violently.

　　When the punishment was about half done, the men began to breathe a little easier. But then the young earl's voice rang out again, this time with anger: "You are guards—men of martial training and cultivation! How dare you cry out over a few strokes of the rod? Are you trying to defy me? What sort of conduct is this? Chen Jiang, hear me—add twenty more strokes. If anyone cries out again, double it!"

　　All eyes turned to the young earl. His voice was not loud, but it was full of authority—every word carried weight, and every person in the mansion heard it clearly.

　　After that single command, silence fell. Not a single sound of pain came from those being punished.

　　The young earl nodded in satisfaction.

　　Little Shan, off to the side, was already doubled over with laughter. The Chen guards and maidservants found it amusing as well, but they held it in. Little Shan, however, had no such restraint—she laughed openly, without a care.

　　The young earl shot her a fierce glare, but she paid it no mind—his earl's authority had no effect on her. Defeated, he decided to ignore this heartless little girl and turned to continue into the mansion.

　　Outside the gates, the crowd of onlookers had not yet dispersed when they saw the two guards at the entrance summoned inside. Soon, cries of pain rang out. Word spread that the Wei-appointed guards had been beaten—and the spectators were astonished.

　　The crowd buzzed with speculation. They had no idea what had happened inside, but they all agreed that this young Crown Prince of Chen was arrogant and overbearing.

　　One man remarked, "A mere child—why must he be so cruel?" Another replied, "Nobles and princes are often spoilt—nothing new about that."

　　After a while, the sounds from within faded. But the guards who had been punished did not emerge—they were replaced by Chen's own guards.

　　The crowd slowly dispersed. The man who had decried the young earl's cruelty walked away with a scowl, resolving to record this incident at length in his secret report to the Grand Tutor.

　　Inside, the household affairs were left to Chen Jiang and the others to arrange. The young earl cared little for such details. He was currently seated in the main hall on a large chair, still in his formal court robes—which he had not yet changed out of. His small frame made him look rather like a monkey playing at being a nobleman. But none of the servants coming and going dared to laugh—that display of the disciplining rod had left them all shaken and worried about the days ahead.

　　For a servant, the first lesson was to learn how to serve this young master with care—not a single misstep could be allowed.

　　Everything in the household was the master's private property—the guards, the servants, all had been granted by the King of Wei and were now counted among his possessions. As a fourth-rank earl, if he chose to punish a servant, the King of Wei would never question it.

　　Moreover, although the young earl had been sent as a hostage, he was also a key part of the King of Wei's grand ambition. Whether the young earl was spoiled and arrogant, or caused trouble with his antics—in the eyes of the adults, all of it was merely childish folly.

　　At that moment, Su Wuding, having just endured his inexplicable beating, arrived outside the main hall. He did not know whether to enter and express his gratitude—yes, even after being flogged to the point of torn skin, one still had to thank the master for his mercy.

　　Su Wuding was a cultivator who had reached the Golden Core realm. Ordinarily, a few strokes from a rod could not harm him. But the one wielding the rod was Chen Jiang—also at the late Golden Core stage, a mere step away from the Nascent Soul realm. And according to the rules of the rod, the one being punished had to bear it as an ordinary mortal—no cultivation could be used to resist.

　　Flesh wounds meant little to a cultivator—they could be healed in moments with a bit of effort.

　　But it was the loss of face that hurt.

　　In this world, cultivators abandoned worldly ties and family bonds—this was called severing the heart and casting aside emotion. They endured solitude and cold loneliness, with single-minded devotion—this was called ruthless and unfeeling. They walked a solitary and perilous path, risking their lives at every failed step—all for the sake of immortality and freedom.

　　What was freedom? It was the power to call the wind and rain, to be revered by the common folk, to draw back the essence of heaven and earth—and to break free from the bonds of this world's rites and rules.

　　A Golden Core cultivator, beaten with a rod—and ordered by a mere fourth-level Qi Refining child? Su Wuding did not know if such a thing had ever happened in this world. But right now, his qi was in turmoil, his meridians in disarray. If he did not stabilize himself soon, he could easily suffer a deviation and be crippled.

　　So he stood at the hall entrance, uncertain whether to enter or not. Not entering would violate the rules of a guard; entering, however, ran the risk of the little demon finding another offense—why had he, as head guard, failed to capture the boy who had cursed at the earl from atop the gate? That was a grave dereliction of duty. If the earl decided to make it a capital offense, there would be no grounds to argue.

　　Caught between a rock and a hard place, Su Wuding was gritting his teeth so hard they might crack—when a bored voice came from inside the hall: "Who is at the door? Why do you linger?" Left with no choice, Su Wuding steeled himself and entered the hall. There he saw the young earl leaning against one armrest of his chair, both feet propped up on the other.

　　Without even turning his head, the young earl asked, "What is it?"

　　Su Wuding dropped to one knee. "Your humble servant thanks the earl for sparing his life," he said, and kowtowed.

　　"Hm. Understood. As guards of this household, your duty is to protect it. If you allow any random person to disturb this residence, my safety matters little—but the King of Wei's dignity is another matter." The young earl paused here.

　　That pause was enough. In Su Wuding's head, a buzz went off—"Oh no, oh no! I should have driven that boy away earlier!" The guards had all seen the child lurking on the ridge tiles—and had guessed he was there to cause trouble for the Chen people. They had all chosen to watch the show, thinking that even if the Chen people caught him, there was nothing they could do. Besides, the boy was no ordinary urchin—Su Wuding recognized him as Liu Dingshan, the great-grandson of Grand Tutor Liu Jian, not someone this young Chen prince could touch.

　　Everything had unfolded as expected—except they had not known that this ten-year-old earl had already reached the fourth level of Qi Refining. Of course the fruit could not hit him. And the young earl had not seemed upset—he had let the boy slip away without a care.

　　But once inside the mansion, the young earl had barely spoken a word before the rod came down—swift and merciless, leaving the guards caught completely off guard. In the blink of an eye, they were all wounded—not in the flesh, but in pride.

　　Outside, the guards were in an uproar, each one seething with rage. If Su Wuding had not released the pressure of his Golden Core presence to restrain them, the young earl might not even have made it to his chair before chaos broke out.

　　The young earl had no idea that Su Wuding had just stopped his men from jumping the wall and making him the shortest-lived noble in history. Still, he sat there with all the dignity of a true earl, issuing his commands in a measured tone.

　　As he spoke, he paused again. Su Wuding's heart sank—here it comes, he thought. Now he's going to bring up the boy who got away. A chill ran down his spine, and his other leg gave way, dropping him to both knees.

　　Startled, the young earl turned his head. "Strange—is the Wei form of greeting so elaborate? There's no need to kneel on both knees when meeting me. Rise. Where was I?"

　　Su Wuding was furious, but helpless. He rose to his feet, grateful that the hall was empty—otherwise, he might have spat blood on the spot.

　　Steeling himself, he said, "Your humble servant failed in his duty of protection, allowing the troublemaking boy to escape. I beg the earl's punishment." He began to kneel again on one knee, thinking to himself: To hell with it—one beating or ten, I'll take it for now. But one day, I'll skin this brat alive to wipe out this humiliation.

　　"Oh, I noticed that boy had some cultivation. Even I couldn't hit him with that fruit. It's only natural that you couldn't catch him."

　　Hit your mother—you're only at Qi Refining, what makes you think you can hit another Qi Refining cultivator just because? But he could not say that aloud—if he did, letting the boy escape would shift from mere incompetence to deliberate intent, and that would be an even worse crime. So he kept his mouth shut and waited for the earl to continue.

　　"I could see that boy was quite skilled. He probably couldn't stand that someone so young had been made an earl, and wanted to test me. But when he saw my skill, he lost his nerve and slipped away. It all happened so fast—you couldn't be expected to react in time. I am a reasonable man. The twenty strokes I ordered earlier were merely a token—because you are responsible for guarding this mansion, and you allowed an outsider to get onto the roof. As for the disrespect of calling me 'little'—that's a small matter. Just correct it in the future."

　　"Otherwise, you would surely accuse me of being harsh. But I am kind-hearted and good-natured—not a cruel man. You will all come to know that in time. As for any other offenses, I'll overlook them today. In the future, I hope you will correct your faults where they exist, and strive for better where they don't. That is all. You may go."

　　Su Wuding, still on one knee with his head bowed, nearly spat a mouthful of blood in the young earl's face. His head was buzzing—all he knew was that the dereliction of duty had been forgiven by this supposedly kind-hearted young earl. As for the rest—what else mattered?

　　Su Wuding, deciding to make the best of it, voiced his thanks without changing his kneeling posture. Motionless as a mountain, he slid backward out of the hall, vanishing in an instant.

　　Chen Jiang, standing at the door, smiled slightly. Su Wuding let out a low grunt, rose to his feet, and flashed back to the other guards in the blink of an eye.

　　The guards had been restrained by Su Wuding's earlier command and were still standing in place, awaiting news.

　　Now Su Wuding, his face stiff, walked up to one of the guards and without warning delivered a resounding slap across his face. The guard was too stunned to react. Then more slaps followed—one after another, each guard receiving his share. When he was done, Su Wuding barked, "Get the hell out of my sight!"