Chapter 310: Hello Chang'an
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Chapter 310: Stand Up and Come with Me
“What fine words — ‘nothing to say.’ So you admit it, then.”
The elder held the ancestral record in his hands, his voice echoing with iron conviction:
“You have shamed the family name, harbored divided loyalties, and set yourself apart as one unworthy of our blood. You refuse to follow the will of our clan — you are no longer one of the Cui family!”
“To restore the proper virtue of the Cui household and uphold the thousand-year honor of our ancestors, by the authority of the family head, we hereby expel you from the clan and erase your name from the Cui family record!”
“From this day forth, while you live, you shall never again set foot within the family estate. When you die, your body shall not rest in the Cui ancestral tombs, nor shall your spirit tablet enter the family hall!”
“From now on, you are a man without clan, without kin, without root or origin. You shall have no connection whatsoever to the Qinghe Cui family!”
...
Cui Jing stood still, listening quietly. His dark lashes lowered, and he uttered not a single word.
For those of the Aristocratic clans, expulsion was never a mere formality — soon, all under heaven would know. The expelled would be condemned as traitorous, dishonorable, shunned by the world. Some before him, stripped of family and status, bore the stain for life — barred from officialdom, trapped by poverty and disdain, crushed between reputation and survival until they withered away in silence.
Such men were always seen as pitiful and contemptible — cast out, rootless, and unwanted beneath the vast heavens.
But for Cui Jing, there was more. Once the expulsion was declared and approved by the clan elders, a punishment was due. Family law required it.
The severity of this punishment was measured by the magnitude of the offender’s transgressions — and by their verdict, Cui Jing’s deeds were unspeakably grave.
“One hundred lashes of the family whip — do you have any objection?” the elder asked, gazing down at the silent young man under all those watching eyes.
“No objection.”
The youth unfastened his soft armor with one hand and let it fall to the ground with a metallic rustle. Then, he drew the sword from his waist, placed it aside, and knelt with perfect composure before the elder holding the family order.
A clansman stepped forward, holding the whip with both hands.
The Cui clan’s execution of expulsion law followed strict ritual. For every lash struck, the offender’s crimes were recited aloud. To complete one hundred lashes took no less than two quarters of an hour.
This, moreover, was a temporary family council held in Xingyang — had it been in the ancestral hall of the Cui family in the capital or in Qinghe, all clan members would have been summoned to witness it. There, a hundred lashes could last over an hour, until the punished fainted midway, bloodied and senseless.
A hundred lashes — the gravest chastisement. Few survived without lasting injury; many did not survive at all.
The whip, woven with copper strands, flexible yet cruel, cut through the air with a sharp, whistling sound before striking down hard upon the young man’s broad back. After only three or four lashes, his dark-blue robe split open, and beneath it, so did his flesh.
In the last row stood a young clansman. Each time he heard the whip crack, his brows twitched, his head turned away, and cold sweat soaked his palms.
Seeing that all eyes were fixed upon the punished youth, the young clansman slipped quietly away.
“What — one hundred lashes?!”
Outside the Cui residence, Yuan Xiang — who had been standing guard with others — turned pale as the youth breathlessly relayed the news.
“A pack of heartless wretches!” Deputy Commander Yu cursed. “Why don’t they just chop his head off instead!” He moved as if to storm inside, but Yuan Xiang caught him by the arm.
“The Grand General gave strict orders — none of us are to enter!” Yuan Xiang’s voice trembled with frustration, torn between fear and anger.
Among the Xuanzhe Army, obedience to superior command was an iron law. If the Grand General’s own men could not uphold that, how could they expect others to?
In the Xuanzhe Army, the military order was carved into their very bones — unbreakable.
“But we can’t just stand here and watch the Grand General take that punishment!” Deputy Commander Yu’s hand twitched toward his blade. Pacing in agitation, he said, “If we can’t go in — then someone else must! Someone who can help!”
But who could possibly help?
Either someone with the seniority and standing to speak on his behalf… or someone with enough power to fight their way in.
In terms of seniority — what about the Marquis Zheng’s family, his uncle Zheng?
Impossible. Zheng Shulang was currently confined within the Zheng estate, awaiting judgment from the Holy Emperor. Even if they managed to sneak him out —
The thought stopped there. Zheng Chao’s offenses far outweighed even their commander’s; bringing him along would only mean sending two men to be beaten instead of one.
To drag him out only to get thrashed — it was absurd.
“Wait — what about General of Ningyuan?” Deputy Commander Yu suddenly exclaimed.
“General Ningyuan returned to the Bianzhou camp just yesterday!” Yuan Xiang was nearly in tears. “If Sister Chang were still here, I wouldn’t have to even think about Zheng Chao!”
“Forget it,” Yu spat. “By the time anyone arrives, the hundred lashes will be over!”
With a fierce resolve, he ripped the Xuanzhe Army badge from his belt and thrust it into Yuan Xiang’s hands. “I’m going in!”
He would accept military punishment later if he must — he’d rather be expelled from the army than watch his commander endure this torment!
The ten soldiers behind him followed suit, pulling off their badges and pressing them into Yuan Xiang’s hands.
Yuan Xiang stood there, clutching a handful of command tokens like a lifeless clay figure, torn between dread and duty. He didn’t want to rush in — not merely because of orders, but because he knew the Grand General’s nature best.
If the Grand General had not chosen this, none of those Cui clansmen would have the power to restrain him.
Since the Grand General had chosen it himself — storming in would not stop him.
Deputy Commander Yu and the others no longer cared; just as they were about to charge through the gate, the sound of galloping hooves thundered from afar.
They turned sharply toward the noise — and Yuan Xiang’s eyes lit up with relief.
At the front rode a young woman with her hair tied high, clad in a pale blue robe embroidered with drifting clouds. She urged her horse forward, followed by a small detachment.
“Young Miss Chang!” Yuan Xiang ran forward in joy. “You’ve returned!”
The girl in cloud-patterned boots leapt lightly from her saddle. “Where is your Grand General?”
She had departed for the Bianzhou camp only the day before, but upon hearing that members of the Cui clan had arrived in Xingyang, her instincts told her — they must be here for Cui Jing.
And indeed, just after she crossed the city gate, she overheard talk in the streets — that the Cui clan had come to Xingyang to deliver punishment upon Cui Jing.
If it were only ordinary rebuke, she would not have intervened. But for the clan to travel so far — this could be no simple matter.
Though the Cui clansmen would never say so aloud, everyone knew this reckoning stemmed from the Zheng family’s case — and in that affair, Cui Jing’s actions had borne her influence.
Therefore, she had come — for this, she could not stand aside.
When Yuan Xiang mentioned the “expulsion” from the clan, Chang Suining did not show much reaction at first.
But the moment she heard that a hundred lashes were being carried out, her brows furrowed sharply.
Had he gone mad? Or simply lost his mind — did he not care about his own life anymore?
She turned to the tear-reddened Yuan Xiang and his men. “Why haven’t you gone in to stop them?”
“The Grand General gave us strict orders beforehand — we are not to interfere!”
Chang Suining lifted her foot, her tone calm. “Then I’ll go in and see for myself.”
She wanted to see exactly what kind of madness had overtaken this man.
Yet before she could step through the gates, several Cui clansmen — who had come out after noticing movement outside — blocked her path.
“Who are you?” one demanded.
Chang Suining reported her name evenly: “Chang Suining.”
The two men exchanged surprised looks. One of them, more cautious now, asked, “And what business brings the General of Ningyuan here?”
Chang Suining’s patience was short. “I came to see a friend,” she said, moving forward as she spoke.
“This is the Cui residence!” a middle-aged man in long robes stepped up, his expression hard. His eyes went to the sword at her waist, and his tone turned colder. “No one enters without our leave. Leave now — do not take another step!”
But she did not stop.
With a faint, unreadable smile, she took one step, then another, crossing the threshold until she stood face to face with him.
The man’s face flushed with anger. “You—!” he began, jabbing a finger toward her, but she brushed past him without pause.
“Apologies,” she said with no sincerity whatsoever, “I was invited by a friend. It would be rude to miss the appointment.”
“Stop her!” the man bellowed.
He barely got the words out before a rough hand clamped over his mouth.
“Don’t shout!” said Ah Dian urgently. “We’re not here to pick a fight!”
The man sputtered and struggled furiously, but soon the compound erupted anyway.
Guards and attendants swarmed in, yet they were no match for soldiers who had fought real battles. Even the five women from the camp — each one capable of felling five men alone — made quick work of them. And Ah Dian was among them.
Chang Suining herself did not raise a hand. The people she brought handled everything swiftly and cleanly, clearing her path as she walked forward, unhindered, straight into the ancestral courtyard where Cui Jing was being punished.
The pain of the whip dulled his senses, yet Cui Jing still noticed the sudden commotion behind him.
The clansmen on both sides turned at once, shouting for the intruder to be seized.
A guard rushed forward, brandishing a staff — but before it even touched her, her sheathed sword flicked upward, knocking it aside. In the same breath, she lifted her leg and kicked; the staff flew from his grip, whistling through the air and striking the copper whip mid-swing.
The force was so great that the whip tore free from its wielder’s hands. Both the staff and the whip clattered down upon the stone steps before Cui Jing. The assembled clansmen cried out in alarm, helping the elder with the genealogy record step back in fright.
“Who dares trespass in the Cui ancestral hall!” the elder thundered. “Guards—!”
The cry barely left his mouth when the courtyard gates burst open again — Ah Dian stormed in, still holding the gagged clansman from earlier. “Don’t panic!” he shouted toward the bloodied young man kneeling at the center. “Xiao Jing, don’t be afraid — we’ve come to get you out!”
In the chaos, Cui Jing turned his head. Through the haze of pain, he saw her — sword in hand, walking toward him.
Facing the furious elders, Chang Suining spoke calmly: “There’s no need for alarm. I mean no harm. I only came to see a friend — and to ask him one question.”
The elder had already guessed who she was. Hearing her words, he frowned deeply and raised a hand to stay the others.
Chang Suining walked up to Cui Jing. Her eyes swept over his blood-slashed back before lowering to meet his.
His gaze was steady, but he could tell — she was angry.
“Are you short on battle scars?” she asked evenly. “Or have you decided you’d rather die here?”
Cui Jing looked at her silently and shook his head.
Was that her question?
Of course not.
Chang Suining’s voice dropped slightly. “Cui Jing, I’ve no wish to meddle too much in your family affairs. But right now, I’ll give you two choices — either stand up and leave here with me, or—”
“Fine.”
She hadn’t even finished speaking when the young man, blood at his lips, spoke slowly: “I’ll leave with you.”
He didn’t need to hear the second choice. Since she had come for him, that was reason enough. If she asked him to go, he would follow.
Meeting his gaze — those eyes filled with quiet obedience — Chang Suining paused for a heartbeat, almost startled, before extending her sword toward him.
Cui Jing grasped the scabbard of Yao Ri with one hand, shifting from both knees to one, then gradually, painfully, pushing himself upright.
He was tall and broad-shouldered; as he rose, his shadow fell over her, blocking the sunlight behind him. His robe hung open and torn, collar loose, a strand of hair falling across his cheek. Blood streaked the corner of his lips — disheveled, yes, but with a kind of unrestrained defiance that burned through the ruin.
The cold sharpness in his eyes had shattered, leaving only silent surrender.
Chang Suining reached out and steadied him by the arm.
Through the chilled fabric, she could feel the tension and strength of his arm beneath — this man, who seemed indestructible, trembling faintly from pain.
She ignored the angry shouts behind them, supporting him step by step as they walked away from the hall.
When they were gone, one of the clansmen cried anxiously, “Ninth Great-Uncle!”
The old man sighed faintly. “Let them go.”
Cui Jing followed Chang Suining out of the compound. With every step he took, it felt as though another layer of his old identity — son of the Cui clan — was being stripped away.
But he no longer cared. Nor did he feel that he was walking alone.
He asked quietly, “Why did you come back?”
“I thought I’d drop by to see the excitement,” she said dryly. “Didn’t expect it to be this exciting.”
Cui Jing didn’t hear the irony — he only answered softly, “I’m glad you came.”
That she had come for him, that she had taken his side, that she had come to bring him away herself — all of it meant more than he could ever say.
He had never cared for anyone’s concern or favor before. But hers — was different.
“...” Chang Suining glanced at him with a faint smile, then turned toward the approaching Yuan Xiang and the others. “Seeing you like this,” she said, “I wonder if they’re happy about it.”
Yuan Xiang, of course, was not. He rushed forward to help his commander, nearly in tears.
“They actually did it for real!”
Furious, he shot a glare back at the courtyard. “Grand General, let’s go — we’re never coming back to this cursed place!”
Cui Jing looked back once — just once.
Soon after, they helped him onto a carriage they had hastily prepared and returned to their lodging in Xingyang City, where a physician was immediately summoned to treat his wounds.
When the bandaging was done, Yuan Xiang and the others all dropped to their knees beside his bed.
“Grand General… we have a proposal.” Yuan Xiang’s voice was solemn.
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