Chapter 1208: The Great River Flows
In the northern region of Baoping Zhou's Northern March, the dim, eerie phenomenon of a vast night covering the sky vanished in a flash, and light was restored in an instant.
At the shores of Old Oriole Lake, the emperor of the Great Ribbon Dynasty, Yin Ji, whose neck was being firmly gripped, instantly flushed red, then quickly turned a livid green. "Chen State Preceptor, this is all a misunderstanding."
The prince Yin Miao was a martial artist, but the emperor himself was an ordinary man. Every time Yin Ji's Adam's apple moved slightly, it felt like touching a blade—excruciating pain, an unbearable torment. Never in his life had he suffered such humiliation.
Chen Ping'an said, "Yin Ji, I asked you for your name. Three strikes and you're out. Take it easy."
Song Jixin kept a straight face, suppressing a laugh. An internal knot within this Great Li prince was untied in a way he had never expected.
Yin Ji, this is what it feels like to have your neck grabbed, isn't it? I imagine what's even worse is being called by your name while someone asks you what it is.
Gong Yan held the silk fan to half-cover her flower-like face. Oh my, the young Hidden Officer at this moment looked extremely handsome.
Though Yin Ji's current predicament was so awkward that... common folk would think it better to just die.
But Li Ba actually had a fair evaluation of Yin Ji. The words he had spoken earlier to Prince Song Mu were truly piercing.
If Prince Song Mu now wanted to go a step further? If Emperor Song He started to have certain thoughts? The most formidable part was that even if Song Mu himself had not harbored such transgressive thoughts of a prince coveting the throne, Song He still believed he should continue delegating power to the secondary capital. He could let Song Jixin stay by his uncle Song Changjing's side, and even improve their already good uncle-nephew relationship. But at the very least, they would both have to guess at each other's thoughts: I think this way, but does he have any deeper intentions?
One must understand how delicate the relationship between the Great Li capital and the secondary capital Luo Jing was. Twin brothers born of the same parents—Emperor "Song He" and Prince "Song Mu"—how subtle was that?
No matter how powerful Prince Song Mu was, no matter how good his reputation among the mountain peaks of Baoping Zhou, no matter how high his prestige among the common people of Great Li, he was ultimately just a prince, not the emperor.
Li Ba knew full well that once Yin Ji returned to the Great Ribbon Dynasty, the grudge between the Yin clan of Great Ribbon and the Great Li Dynasty would be set. Had they come for an alliance only to leave with enmity?
Humiliated time and again, Yin Ji introduced himself with great difficulty, his speech somewhat slurred: "My name is Yin Ji, currently the emperor of the Great Ribbon Dynasty."
The emperor's eyes were bloodshot, his face had already turned from blue to purple. Breathing was a luxury.
Chen Ping'an asked with confusion, "Misunderstanding? A misunderstanding at the dinner table, a misunderstanding by the lake outside the courtyard, and now that you've landed in my hands, another misunderstanding? Yin Ji, does your Great Ribbon Dynasty run a misunderstanding shop?"
It was indeed literal—he had fallen into Chen Ping'an's "hands."
Yin Ji could no longer speak; he was at death's door. This was not feigned. Cultivators and pure martial artists could still drop several realms or leave the mountains and walk the jianghu, but Yin Ji was nothing but a mortal body—what was there to fake?
Far away in the Great Ribbon Dynasty on the Central Continent, all the mountain-top cultivators who supported the Yin clan or had attached themselves to their dragon were shaken time and again in their Dao hearts. They began frantically deducing, and the entire Imperial Observatory was frightened out of its wits. Why had the pillar of national destiny, which had been as imposing as a mountain, suddenly started to crumble?!
Chen Ping'an glanced meaningfully toward the imperial palace, seeming to show some barely concealed impatience.
Song Jixin was also somewhat irritated. Although they had been neighbors in the Mud Vase Alley and their relationship had never been good since childhood, at least they knew each other inside out. It was the kind of closeness where you could hear a fart from the other's yard.
Not far behind Emperor Yin Ji stood Cao Lüe, who had always remained calm and aloof. He was the only outsider in the Great Ribbon Dynasty. Having sat next to Yin Ji at the table, Cao Lüe had come to Baoping Zhou for personal enjoyment.
He was about to say something.
But the young Hidden Officer squinted at him sideways, as if stating a principle: Do you have a place to speak here?
You, an outsider from the Great Duan Dynasty, are just a tourist in Baoping Zhou. Are you sure you have enough weight to mediate and act as a peacemaker?
Cao Lüe had no choice but to temporarily swallow his words.
Song Jixin hesitated for a moment, then said, "State Preceptor, it's best not to give him a chance to die for his country. When a king dies for his country, it always adds points in history books and people's hearts—it can reduce his crimes by one grade. Better to make him a famous emperor who issues edicts of self-blame every now and then."
National grievances and personal grudges—if they could be separated, separate them; if not, endure them. Song Jixin considered himself to have made some progress in cultivation and mental discipline over the years of being a secondary capital prince.
Song Jixin reminded him, "Chen Ping'an, if you keep choking him, this guy will really die."
Chen Ping'an gave the prince a sidelong glance.
Song Jixin said angrily, "What's with the sidelong glance? I'm someone who's experienced this firsthand—I have more experience than you!"
Chen Ping'an seemed momentarily stunned, then composed himself. He chuckled dryly, slightly loosening his grip, but still not letting go. If you've fallen into my hands, do you think you can escape?
Gong Yan and Huang Man found this amusing, while Li Ba immediately thought more highly of Prince Song Mu.
Song Jixin, for his part, breathed a huge sigh of relief. It wasn't that he was reluctant to see Yin Ji die—honestly, selfishly, he wished Chen Ping'an would crush the old bastard's neck. Chen Ping'an had always held grudges since childhood—was Song Jixin any more magnanimous? But whether it was Chen Ping'an or Prince Song Mu, if they wanted to plan a great deed and finish it in one battle, now—at least at this moment—was not the optimal time for either of them.
Cai Yushan was actually an immortal. Having his mouth smashed by the young State Preceptor without any power to fight back, he harbored no thought of resentment. He simply kept one hand hidden in his sleeve forming hand seals, activating his family's secret techniques, then raised his arm and covered his face with his hand. Soon, fine bloody threads wriggled at the wound, generating white bones through the meridians, then flesh grew over the bones, and his skin recovered as before. He quickly regrew a mouth, but it was covered in scars—shocking to behold.
Chen Ping'an shifted his gaze slightly, looking toward Cui Ji, the close maid of Yin Miao, who had used the alias Cui Ji.
She sensed the Great Li State Preceptor's gaze and, her heart filled with immense resentment, quickly hid the hatred in her eyes. Her mind raced, "Chen State Preceptor, I was wrong."
Perhaps thinking that a mere verbal apology was insufficient, she said "I really was wrong" and prepared to slap herself.
At that moment, Chen Ping'an had one hand gripping Yin Ji's neck and the other free. He made a gesture as if slapping her from a distance.
As if by accident, failing to control his strength, he slapped Cui Ji's head clean off, killing her on the spot. With a bang, the woman's delicate body shattered like a vase, her head bursting open.
Better luck in your next life correcting your mistakes.
Earlier, when Cui Ji had gone to "apologize" to the young girl, Chen Xi, who was an ordinary mortal, could only see the heavy mockery and disdain in Cui Ji's eyes, along with a hint of regret.
But cultivators, or those in official circles, knew that Cui Ji was silently telling the girl an unspoken truth: This isn't over.
The regret in Cui Ji's eyes wasn't due to any compassion—it was simply that she, as Prince Yin Miao's close maid and death-sworn bodyguard, was too familiar with certain "rules." She knew that your employers, Wei Jia and the Great Affairs Manager of the garden, might very well "send you off" in a clean manner. A piece of rootless duckweed sinking into the muck—who would ask about it, who would care? But that would not satisfy her, how could it offset the hatred in her heart?
Gao Shi, standing next to the maid Cui Ji, was splattered with blood across his face.
This martial arts grandmaster and bottleneck ninth-realm martial artist, who also possessed a significant immortal treasure, dared not move. He didn't even dare wipe the blood from his face.
The green-sheathed longsword at Gao Shi's waist had once killed one and a half Jade Capital realm cultivators.
"Half" meant that the opponent had escaped using escape techniques, barely surviving, not quite dead.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Cai Yushan, aren't you very good with words? Why not say a few righteous and impartial words? Like 'killing indiscriminately without distinguishing right from wrong'?"
"Yongtai County Magistrate Wang Yongjin might believe that, but you think I would?"
"Cai Yushan, Grand Secretary Cai, it's unlikely, but you always have to try."
Not to mention Magistrate Wang Yongjin—he, who had been hailed for years as the literary backbone and spine of Great Li's county officials, trembled like a sieve.
All the Yongtai County officials who had come with the magistrate felt like the sky was falling.
Cai Yushan trembled with fear, not daring to mention this. He hurriedly bowed and advised, "Chen State Preceptor, why not first put down Your Majesty? Let's go into the house and talk properly?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Cai Yushan, I'll give you one more chance to speak properly. Make sure you think before you speak."
Cai Yushan steeled himself and spoke with his heart's voice, "Chen State Preceptor, in the end, each serves his own master. I humbly beg for some understanding..."
With a bang.
Cai Yushan's physical body was destroyed on the spot.
Gao Shi was once again stained with blood, this time drenched from head to toe.
He hadn't even blinked the first time, but now his eyelids twitched slightly.
As Yin Miao's personal bodyguard, he naturally knew the little schemes brewing in this prince's mind.
And Grand Secretary Cai Yushan had been firmly set on supporting the young prince Yin Miao as the dragon—the next true dragon emperor.
Yin Ji was a wily old fox; he likely had the idea of raising his sons like gu insects.
The victor, whether by fair means or foul, would become the Great Ribbon Emperor!
Among the ten great dynasties of the Haoran world, the Shaoyuan Dynasty of the Central Continent ranked sixth. Its current State Preceptor was very young, named Lin Junbi. He was a sword cultivator from the Hidden Officer lineage of the Summer Retreat Palace.
There was a chess master who had compiled chess manuals and was the top player of the Shaoyuan Dynasty. He had taught Lin Junbi to play chess, and also taught a prodigy from another country—the latter being the most favored young prince of the Great Ribbon Dynasty, Yin Miao.
The Great Ribbon Dynasty was currently ranked fourth in Haoran.
But ever since Lin Junbi succeeded his teacher Chao Pu as State Preceptor, the once-friendly relations between the Shaoyuan and Great Ribbon dynasties had gradually cooled, until there were no more diplomatic exchanges.
As for the Great Source Dynasty in North Ju Lu Continent, it was at the bottom of the ten great dynasties.
But being at the bottom still made it one of the ten. Besides, Lu Jun was already the crown prince of Great Source, which was why Yin Miao had been so "polite" earlier, unwilling to cause unnecessary trouble.
As the only dynasty from North Ju Lu Continent on the list, Yin Miao would have to be a complete fool to provoke them. That was North Ju Lu Continent, where countless mountain-dwelling dragons had fallen and sunk to the bottom.
Chen Ping'an suddenly released his grip.
Yin Ji's feet hit the ground. He bent over, gasping for breath. The ruler of a Central Continent nation was forced to bow his head before a State Preceptor of Baoping Zhou.
This emperor of the Great Ribbon Dynasty was like a common crucian carp just tossed from Old Oriole Lake onto the bank.
Chen Ping'an asked, "So, if I kill Yin Miao, is that a misunderstanding?"
Yin Ji glanced with his peripheral vision in one direction, dared only to gently rub his fiery neck, and raised his head to say hoarsely, "It must be a misunderstanding."
Chen Ping'an continued, "If it still isn't, then taking you out—should that at least be a misunderstanding?"
Yin Ji replied helplessly, "Chen State Preceptor, I just said it must be a misunderstanding."
Chen Ping'an lifted his chin, indicating to the Great Ribbon emperor: Did Cui Ji admit her mistake? Since she didn't, and you say it's not a misunderstanding—what good is that? So what's wrong with me taking you out?
Yin Ji's face was twisted with pain. He kept one hand over his neck, and said with difficulty, "Chen State Preceptor, I came here to form an alliance with your Great Li Dynasty."
Song Jixin said with a strange expression, "State Preceptor, there's such a secret matter to discuss? If tonight's imperial study meeting addresses this, I'll be the first to oppose it."
Chen Ping'an said, "You're a useless prince that Yin Ji said has no power to facilitate an alliance. What use is your opposition?"
Song Jixin chuckled, "Of course, I'm not good at achieving things, but I'm excellent at spoiling them."
Chen Ping'an said, "I'm discussing serious business with Yin Ji. Stop interrupting. Killing Yin Miao is a misunderstanding; whether he can return alive to the Great Ribbon Dynasty is the real issue. Forming an alliance is a minor matter."
Yin Ji was so enraged that blood surged to his head, and he became dizzy. Yet he still dared not say things like "Do you really dare to kill me?" He said, "The great affairs of a nation are in sacrifice and war."
Song Jixin sneered, "Your Great Ribbon Dynasty has quite the nerve. Under the guise of forming an alliance, you secretly collude with the Jade Capital of the Green Underworld Heaven to harm Great Li's national destiny. Aren't you afraid of missing the battle opportunity against the Barbarian Wasteland?"
Song Jixin continued, "In comparison, making the Great Li Dynasty's new State Preceptor ascend on one day and drop realms the next, making a laughingstock of him—that is indeed a minor matter."
Yin Ji staggered, covering his head with his hand, glaring at Song Jixin. "Prince Song Mu of Luo, don't you slander me!"
Song Jixin sneered, "Keep pretending, keep stalling—waiting for that dismembered female ghost to come and save you?"
With your level of acting, Yin Ji and Yin Miao, back in our hometown, you wouldn't even be considered third-rate. You're not even good enough to have reincarnated yet.
Chen Ping'an turned to look at Gao Shi.
Gao Shi swallowed his saliva. Officer Chen, I'm really just swallowing—I'm not moving!
Chen Ping'an asked, "Do you know why I didn't kill you first?"
Gao Shi shook his head. Am I lucky?
Chen Ping'an frowned in silence.
Murderous intent! Gao Shi immediately said, "Wei Jia of Yi Chi Lane deserves a beating. Colluding with outsiders to bully family—throwing him into Old Oriole Lake is too light a punishment."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Then do you know what you did wrong?"
Gao Shi quickly replied, "I shouldn't have taken action as an outsider!"
Gao Shi felt he had never had such fast reflexes or been so clever in his life.
Not enough martial arts grandmaster, not enough iron backbone, not enough loyalty and righteousness... You try it!
I, Gao Shi, can talk back to any dynasty's State Preceptor, but why would I act tough with the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall?!
Chen Ping'an squinted, "And what now?"
Gao Shi immediately said, "I'll immediately leave the Great Ribbon Dynasty and defect to the Great Li Dynasty. I can go to a border prefecture near the Great River and enlist, charging into battle and atoning for my crimes through merit. I won't say a word otherwise!"
Going to the Barbarian Wasteland—truly dare not. If the State Preceptor throws me there, I'll nod today, but I'll definitely run at the first chance, sneak back to Haoran.
Chen Ping'an said, "Is your background clean? To enter the Great Li border army, you need to pass a background check. Don't make me fish you out of the Ministry of Justice or the Northern Administration prison."
Gao Shi's voice boomed like thunder, "Not exactly clean, but certainly not a criminal. I'm a well-known martial arts fanatic. I like challenging fights, and I like dealing with immortals. My records are easy to check."
Chen Ping'an said, "Go stand over by the wall."
Gao Shi strode away and indeed went to stand by the wall.
Only then did Gao Shi dare to wipe the blood and grime from his face.
Surviving the ordeal, Gao Shi was overwhelmed with emotion. He had made it out alive.
Inside the waterside pavilion, a young girl who looked like a handsome youth had already jumped onto a long bench, standing on tiptoe and reaching out to hold a pillar as she peered at the scene.
Xu Mi's eyebrows were dancing with joy—what a thrill!
It felt like downing a large bowl of chilled plum wine on a scorching summer day.
She was well aware of the grudges between her family, the Xu clan of Qingfeng City, and Fallen Mountain and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. Earlier, she had thought Fallen Mountain's style was too overbearing and their methods too treacherous, directly poaching the entire Fox Kingdom right under the Xu clan's noses.
Now Xu Mi thought: if she were the head of the Qingfeng City Xu clan, being bullied so miserably by such a figure, she would accept it. A glorious defeat, right?
We at least had a real fight with him. Dare anyone else?
Oh, today the Yin clan of the Great Ribbon Dynasty is on the same path—the result being one death after another.
Look at that martial arts grandmaster who had been so arrogant and self-satisfied earlier, now standing by the wall like a schoolboy sent to the corner. Xu Mi covered her mouth and laughed silently.
Hong Chongben reminded her, "Don't just sigh and gloat. This is one of the roots of practical scholarship—the combined use of kingly and hegemonic ways."
Xu Mi was puzzled, "Teacher, this is hegemonic to the extreme. Where is the kingly way?"
Hong Chongben said, "In you, in me, in us, in the invisible but more substantial than anything else—the people's hearts of the Great Li Dynasty."
The old man lightly clenched his fist but couldn't help thumping his chest a few times. "It's all right here in our hearts."
If it hadn't been for Rong Yu from the State Preceptor's Manor acting first earlier, the old man would have been willing to risk his status as a guest elder of the Chancellor Yuan clan to snatch the young girl from Wei Jia and the Great Affairs Manager, take her into the mountains, and protect her. If she stayed in the capital but not within the Yuan clan estate in Yi Chi Lane, it wouldn't be safe. But the Yuan clan might not dare to take her in either. The old man could understand—this matter was too big. Knowing Yuan Chong's character, he would probably be willing, but what about the clan? A clan hall meeting? He wouldn't put Yuan Chong in that position.
Even if it had been he who saved her.
But how many "her"s were there across the hundred-plus prefectures and over twenty vassal states of the Great Li Dynasty—yesterday, today, right now? Girls from poor backgrounds who dared not cry out?
You, Chen Ping'an, as the new State Preceptor of the Great Li Dynasty—what should you do? What will you do?!
The old man muttered to himself, "When I was young, I had a temper like that too. Just compared to Chen State Preceptor, I had less ability and wasn't as good at talking?"
Xu Mi turned and smiled, "Teacher, you always say a person shouldn't have pet phrases—it shows lack of learning—and yet you keep saying 'door-step.' Isn't that a dialect from the Pearl Dragon Grotto?"
Hong Chongben laughed, "Just using what I've learned flexibly. These days, don't they all say, 'You think you can trust what a scholar says?'"
Xu Mi whispered, "Why not trust it?"
Hong Chongben sighed, "It's not right, after all."
Like today's upheaval, as State Preceptor, he couldn't be impatient. If you wanted to make a mountain out of a molehill, you had to see the big in the small, the many in the few. The girl had to be saved, but so did the national situation and the people's hearts!
But for the younger officials like Han Yi and Wang Yongjin, and those Great Li youths in the courtyard rooms—you must not be slow!
Xu Mi said, "Teacher, should I calculate again?"
Hong Chongben laughed, "Calculate what? The coming trend—can you calculate that? Just watch the spectacle."
Xu Mi shook her head. This spectacle was finally not so frustrating or humiliating; it was genuinely exciting!
Li Ba had been standing between Prince Song Mu and the "corpse remains" of the female ghost.
Earlier, Li Ba had wanted to use his heart's voice to warn the young State Preceptor, but was horrified to find he couldn't do it at all. It was like a divide between heaven and earth, like separate mountains and waters.
Li Ba spoke with his heart's voice, "Prince of Luo, beware of this female ghost. Her origins are extremely formidable. The centipede that is dead but not stiff—and she is that."
Song Jixin replied, "Friend Cuo Zhang already warned me once earlier."
Li Ba said, "I might have to warn you again in a bit."
Song Jixin said, "Forget it. Can I take a step away or just run for it?"
Gong Yan covered her mouth and laughed silently. In this moment, she dared not make a sound. She simply felt that the Prince of Luo spoke very well—refreshing and relieving.
As for that young Hidden Officer, she dared not approach him. Such a man was far too dangerous. Just now, it was as if his Dao heart had created a vast yet lethal world; anyone who touched it would be shattered. This was just a woman's unique intuition.
Li Ba, who had once been a State Preceptor, knew all too well the power of public opinion. He knew it too well.
Just because of a few curses at a closed-door banquet, because of a girl's grievance, you immediately act in anger? Do you slap them a few times, break the maid Cui Ji's hand, or have them all sent to the Ministry of Justice prison for a more satisfying outcome?
And then you kill a nation's prince, his personal maid, and Grand Secretary Cai Yushan in succession? Who do you think you are? Who does the Great Li Dynasty think it is?
Is this the Great Li Dynasty's court? Is this the man behind the Great Li Iron Cavalry in the Haoran world? If the Great Duan Dynasty's emperor displeases him, will he take his head too?
So it was absolutely necessary to lure Emperor Yin Ji out first. Capital Patrol Commander Hong Ji made the first move, then Prince Song Mu followed, and they succeeded.
But once Emperor Yin Ji revealed himself, the matter became "equal"—it was no minor affair! It now truly concerned the national integrity of two major dynasties!
Without experience in officialdom, it's hard to grasp the nuances.
Wang Yongjin, a man of humble origins who had risen through the ranks by studying, was thinking about how to save himself.
Wei Jia had already collapsed to the ground. He could already envision the scene at the Yi Chi Lane family ancestral hall.
Song Jixin had been waiting for a definitive statement.
The prince was waiting for the final result of the small court meeting.
Emperor Song He's various measures, even during the period when Cui Can had left and Chen Ping'an had not yet succeeded as State Preceptor, had a kind of spirit: "I am not a mediocre emperor; if you successfully rebel, then you should sit on this dragon throne."
You were personally brought from the Pearl Dragon Grotto by your uncle Song Changjing to the Great Li capital. Not only did I make you a secondary capital prince, but I also let you accumulate military achievements and prestige in the mountains, the military, and among the people!
Chen Ping'an is your neighbor, and I still invite him to be our Great Li State Preceptor!
Song Jixin—or to be precise, the one renamed "Song Mu" by the Great Li Song clan's ancestral registry—had done this. You, Emperor "Song He," have gone this far—would I have the face to start a rebellion? You continue being emperor; you continue being my elder brother.
But today's events were a crucial turning point. Song Jixin had indeed been "moved" by Yin Ji's words.
If the Great Li Emperor Song He's response from the imperial study meeting was also something Song Jixin considered "just so-so," then the future would be a different story!
Yin Ji managed to regain some imperial dignity and said, "Chen State Preceptor, stop now, and everything can still be negotiated."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Or else?"
Yin Ji said, "Otherwise, the two nations will become hostile from now on—there is no other possibility."
Chen Ping'an seemed silent.
Only Emperor Yin Ji, face to face with him, could see the immense mockery in his eyes and the barely concealed impatience.
Song Jixin glanced at Chen Ping'an.
He had already broken Prince Yin Miao's neck, smashed maid Cui Ji's head, destroyed Grand Secretary Cai Yushan's body, killing three from the Great Ribbon Dynasty.
Song Jixin suddenly had a strange thought. He hadn't been wrong when he was young—Chen Ping'an was destined for a hard life.
For example, having chosen this path of ascension, he would have to bear the joys, sorrows, partings, and reunions of all Great Li people, of the entire nation's beings.
Song Jixin almost blurted out, Chen Ping'an, if I were in a different position, you could continue as State Preceptor—just do everything you want. What the Embroidery Tiger could do, you can do; what he couldn't, you can do too!
But Prince Song Mu managed to hold back, swallowing every rebellious word back into his stomach.
At the outer city wall, Song Wujian could no longer control his Dao heart, and even his body began to float involuntarily.
If it weren't for Xiao Mo using sword energy to "pin" him to the city wall, Song Wujian would have been forcibly dragged toward Old Oriole Lake.
In the Haoran world's Central Confucian Temple.
An emergency meeting at the highest possible level.
Not only was the Confucian Sage who presided over Haoran Confucian Temple affairs present, but also the two deputy heads of the Confucian Temple, the chancellors and vice-chancellors of various academies.
Even the Sub-Sage, who was overseeing the Barbarian Wasteland war, appeared at the Central Confucian Temple using secret techniques.
And even the Ritual Saint, who had been watching the green path in the heavens, "appeared" here.
From start to finish, the old scholar neither argued nor shouted, said nothing.
But everyone knew that the old scholar, who was shameless and would roll around on the ground, was actually negotiable when he was cursing this and that. But when he fell silent, he was the Confucian Sage!
Of course, gathered together, they didn't talk too much about any particular matter, nor did they mention specific names.
These scholars, the highest in meritorious service in the Haoran world, were not looking at Old Oriole Lake in the Great Li Dynasty capital of Baoping Zhou.
Instead, they were looking at a desk.
On it were piled some geographical archives and secret records drawn from various continents, and two thick stacks of handwritten manuscripts that had long been prepared but were still frequently scribbled on and amended.
The manuscripts were in two parts. One was an invitation from the vice head of the Laiyuan Academy of Fuyao Continent, Great Gentleman Gao Xuandu, to give a lecture on the gains and losses, the rights and wrongs of the details of the offensive and defensive battles on the Sword Qi Great Wall.
The other was for someone about to visit the Spring Mountain Academy of the Great Li Dynasty. As the new State Preceptor of Great Li, he would personally give lectures to the Confucian scholars studying there.
He would discuss the similarities and differences between his own lineage of Confucian Sage and that of the Sub-Sage.
The author of the manuscripts had written the opening content but circled it with brackets, clearly still hesitating about whether such an opening was appropriate, so he had not yet finalized it.
As the closed-door disciple of the Confucian Sage lineage, the opening was not about his own vein, nor about his teacher the Confucian Sage, but related to the Sub-Sage—and it was not disparaging words.
He wanted to ask a question to the Confucian scholars studying at Spring Mountain Academy.
"If we set aside cultivators who can practice immortal arts, what do you think the proudest scholars think of wealth and rank? What should the state of mind of a pure Confucian be like?"
"A mere scholar should roam the world with all his learning. If the emperor is dim-witted, I will be his teacher; if the emperor is wise, I will be his friend!"
"My teacher's learning is, of course, extremely high. But on the matter of 'setting ambitions young,' he is far inferior to the Sub-Sage."
"If my teacher were present, I would still say this. But he's not here anyway."
After this came the body of the manuscript.
There were many annotations and asides aside from the content: when to pause, how to question the students, what questions they might ask, and how he should answer.
The last sentence of the manuscript was not enclosed in brackets, clearly written without hesitation.
"'The gentleman says: Learning cannot stop. I am good at nurturing the vast, righteous qi; the world cannot shake it, living by this, dying by this.' With this saying of the sages, I encourage you all."
At this moment at the Central Confucian Temple, some looked at the old scholar, some looked at the Sub-Sage.
They all understood.
The author of the manuscripts wanted to try—at least attempt—to use his identity as the closed-door disciple of the Confucian Sage lineage to mend the rift that had never healed between the "two schools" since the Third and Fourth Controversy of yesteryear. That was a massive schism within the Central Confucian Temple, indeed within the entire Confucian orthodoxy.
Chen Ping'an was willing to be the one to take the first step.
Mao Xiaodong, the Vice Director of the Rites Academy, remained silent.
Even if they gave Chen Ping'an a position of gentleman, he wouldn't accept it.
This wasn't just his thought; even the old master Li saw it clearly, as did the founding emperor of the Great Yong Dynasty, the flower guardian of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, Cui Jian, and others. They all knew it.
So earlier, on the steps, the old master Li had been smoking his dry pipe, seemingly saying a "polite word" to the old scholar.
Because the notion of "Deputy Head of the Confucian Temple" was actually a gesture with deep intent. If your closed-door disciple's position in the Central Confucian Temple was high enough, he would no longer just be a Confucian scholar of your lineage. Instead, he could be freer—like a new peak rising on a vast plateau, still within the land of that academic orthodoxy, but no longer needing you, old scholar, to shelter him from wind and rain. Because he himself had become a great mountain!
Cui Jian, who had followed Flower Master Qi Fang to the Great Li capital's Flower God Temple, had also had a seemingly joking remark.
"If I were truly in charge of the Confucian Temple, I would make Officer Chen enter both the Confucian Temple and the Martial Temple."
Afterward, at the Fire God Temple over at Aunt Feng's place, Cui Jian said the same.
Cui Jian's reason for this journey, beyond his private concern for safeguarding the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, was also a kind of circumspect probing, a friendly reminder to Chen Ping'an, wasn't it?
As long as you, Chen Ping'an, entered the Martial Temple—even if you kept a proper distance from the Confucian Temple and your teacher—you could then be forthright. You could maintain your identity within the Confucian Sage's lineage while no longer being so constrained. Those willing to talk with you, you reason with them. Those unwilling and preferring to pressure you with so-called great principles—you could change your identity, using your status as a sacrificial saint of the Martial Temple, and reason with them in a way befitting that identity!
Cui Jian's Great Yong Dynasty of the Central Continent, though not among the top ten dynasties now, was still a first-rate power not to be underestimated, a candidate for the list.
The old scholar said calmly, "Whatever you say, I'll do."
Among my several students, who was the one who most wanted to study since childhood? Was it Cui Can, locked in an attic? Was it Qi Jingchun, who dreamed of the jianghu since youth? Was it Zuo You? Was it Liu Shiliu?
Well, now he is determined to become the State Preceptor of a dynasty that is bent on militarism, likely to walk the dark road of Cui Can's pragmatic achievements to the very end.
Is this the Confucian Temple's vision, its original intent, yes or no?!
The old scholar let out a "hey" and laughed to himself. Little Qi, little Qi, perhaps you shouldn't have taken on a disciple on behalf of your teacher... yes or no?
Yin Ji suddenly seemed to become a different person. He smiled, "So you don't care about the general trend of the world?"
Chen Ping'an wiped his mouth.
The general trend of the world?
The Sword Qi Great Wall, the Confucian Temple meeting, and "above the heavens"—do you, Yin Ji, have any part in that?
Since it's clear that you can't discuss any major trend, I had to talk about some "minor matters" with you.
Chen Ping'an lifted Yin Ji's neck high again, not intending to wait any longer.
As for you, Yin Ji, you are truly the most insignificant minor matter in the world.
Inside a room, Song Lian asked tentatively, "Brother, aren't you going out to have a look?"
Song Geng sat back down cross-legged on the couch. "Since I didn't have the guts to show my face earlier, why go out now? Besides making both Second Uncle and Chen State Preceptor think less of me, there's no other use."
Song Lian's expression darkened.
Second Uncle, no matter how angry you were, saying "it's right not to establish a crown prince" in front of Song Geng was too harsh.
Song Geng peeled another citrus fruit and smiled, "But you can go and have a look. Go ahead, remember to close the door."
Song Lian asked softly, "Brother, are you alright?"
Song Geng pointed at the mess on the floor of the room and laughed, "You didn't leave me anything to break. Now what can I throw?"
Song Lian said guiltily, "It's all my fault. If I hadn't dragged you out to relax, this wouldn't have happened."
Song Geng shook his head. "A seemingly unexpected coincidence is inevitably preceded by countless necessities."
Chewing the citrus slowly, Song Geng's state of mind was not as calm as his expression.
I had thought I already knew this principle, really understood it. Until today, I realize I know nothing.
At the waterside pavilion.
As if deliberately not wanting the girl to see the bloody scene, the lake's surface in that direction was misty, making it hard to see clearly.
Rong Yu sat shoulder to shoulder with the girl on the pavilion's long bench.
Chen Xi had somewhat recovered. She was now just worried that the blue-robed man who claimed to be surnamed Chen would get into trouble because of her.
She secretly thought, if she could really get some money for medical expenses? A thousand taels of silver was absolutely unthinkable, but fifty taels, thirty taels—that would already be a lot! Then she could send her savings to her younger brother studying at the village school and her sister learning needlework to supplement the family income, and still have some pocket money left.
Rong Yu didn't mention any sordid details to the girl, unwilling to bring them up.
Without Wei Jia giving the order verbally—he was too familiar with the inner workings of officialdom, a son of Yi Chi Lane—he would never leave any leverage. The Great Affairs Manager of the Old Oriole Lake garden would take care of things himself.
Of course, the latter was already dead.
Rong Yu looked toward the waterside pavilion and said softly with a smile, "Come in and sit. Standing outside isn't really appropriate."
Han Yi shook his head. He dared not.
Wei Jue dared even less. He was still completely baffled. That "Cao Mo" was definitely a government employee—otherwise, Han Yi wouldn't have called himself a subordinate earlier.
Could he be a member of the Chancellor Cao clan? But the Wei family, despite its decline, wasn't like those mocked by peers like Wei Jia as "Wang Erxiao celebrating New Year—worse every year." The Wei family still had some foundation. It was hard to say for other families, but Wei Jue was fairly clear about which Cao clan sons had risen in the ranks or become officials in which prefecture.
Rong Yu had been gently holding the girl's hand. She withdrew her gaze, no longer looking at them, and said calmly, "I told County Magistrate Han and Manager Wei to come in and sit."
Han Yi's scalp tingled. Without a word of nonsense, he strode quickly into the pavilion and silently sat in the farthest corner near the steps.
"A doorman for a prime minister ranks as a third-grade official"—was that a joke?
And Rong Yu, one of the two maids of the State Preceptor's Manor—who was her father? A military general who only had to survive a battle to be enfeoffed as a Patrol Envoy!
Who in Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street didn't know? Which civil official in Yi Chi Lane dared say a bad word about her? Chi'er Street would surely unite against them. And if anyone from Chi'er Street, filled with the descendants of generals, dared say anything about her, it would be called cleaning house!
In recent years, the Great Li border army had spread a saying. The death of Patrol Envoy Su Gaoshan opened a path to the court for the humble and poor of Great Li.
The Generals-Head General Rong Yi, son of a post station master, who could have survived with just a little flexibility, gave all the country's petty officials—who had never been able to enter the pure stream—a hope.
Patrol Envoy Su Gaoshan has already paved the way for us. Rong Yi seemed to have left a dying message to the entire Great Li court.
Make that road for us to climb through merit, the path to officialdom, even broader!
I, Rong Yi, won't live to see it, but for our Great Li court, civil and military officials, don't disappoint.
After his wife died, Rong Yi never remarried. So when he died, he left behind only an orphan girl—Rong Yu. Cui Can took her to the State Preceptor's Manor, where she grew up day by day.
Wei Jue, who hadn't dared to follow, looked at Han Yi. Am I really fit to go in? Han Yi nodded slightly. Wei Jue then tiptoed into the pavilion and sat down next to Han Yi.
Rong Yu pointed at the solemnly seated Han Yi, turned to the girl Chen Xi, and said gently with a smile, "That Wang Yongjin earlier was the Yongtai County magistrate. This one is Han Yi, the acting magistrate of Changning County. They have the same rank, but they govern differently. Han Yi is better. When the garden's Great Affairs Manager forcibly took you away earlier, Han Yi rushed forward, risking his official hat, to demand justice for you."
The girl was astonished. First she hid her injured hand behind her back, then flustered, she began to stand to thank Magistrate Han. But Rong Yu gently pulled her back, as if indicating she didn't need to do that.
Chen Xi, however, insisted on standing. She struggled a little, and Rong Yu immediately let go.
Rong Yu released her hand and looked at Han Yi.
The girl, after all, worked as a servant at this garden, and the guests she met were usually wealthy and influential, so she had heard of the saying about "the best county magistrate in the world" in officialdom.
She made a curtsy and thanked Magistrate Han.
Seeing this, Han Yi's head nearly exploded.
He quickly stood up, was silent for a moment, then said slowly, "Miss Chen Xi, if I were a commoner without any official post, I could accept your thanks today without hesitation. But since I am the acting magistrate of Changning County, I feel unworthy of it."
Chen Xi was bewildered.
Ah, officials speak in such roundabout ways that commoners can never quite understand. But she felt that this Magistrate Han was indeed different from Magistrate Wang.
Maybe he really was a good official?
Rong Yu said, "Han Yi, you may sit and speak."
Han Yi didn't dare to feel any relief. He just remained anxious as he sat down, feeling like sitting on a bed of nails.
Rong Yu hesitated, then decided to speak. "Chen Xi, actually... our young master saw what happened here very early on. As for why he didn't show up immediately, I need to explain the reason to you..."
Chen Xi grew flustered and quickly interrupted, "Sister Rong Yu, I understand. I often hear people say 'a noble person speaks late.' They speak slowly, not loudly, and they think carefully before acting."
To be honest, her current situation left the girl dazed. It felt like when she was a child, visiting relatives during the first lunar month with her parents—relatives who were successful in the county government. They were polite and kind, but their enthusiasm made her nervous too. If they gave her a red envelope with one or two silver taels, she'd be tempted, but her parents wouldn't dare accept it. Because if they accepted it, they wouldn't know how to return the favor in the future.
Rong Yu smiled bitterly and shook her head. For a moment, she didn't know how to explain further.
It seemed the girl's words accidentally hit the mark—partly right, partly wrong. The matters involved here were far too complex.
Even Han Yi, a top county magistrate born into the elite of Yi Chi Lane, only knew a corner of a long scroll—not even the preface.
Wei Jue felt the name "Rong Yu" was somewhat familiar, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't place it. It was the same old story: none of his peers in Yi Chi Lane wanted to play with him. For example, when Han Sixth became the acting magistrate of Changning County, Wei Jue only heard about it from a table at his own restaurant when he went to toast guests. After that toast, he ended up getting drunk by himself. Whenever his friends got impressive and better, he genuinely felt happy, even though they would inevitably have less and less to talk about with him.
Wei Jue asked tentatively, "Miss Rong, which office in the Thousand Steps Corridor does your young master work at?"
Han Yi gasped sharply and stomped on Wei the Fatty's boot. He was too anxious to control his strength. Wei the Fatty winced in pain and grunted, suppressing it. He steadied himself, understanding that he couldn't make a ruckus here, lest he cause trouble for Han Sixth. But the pain was real—Han Yi's stomp hurt terribly. Wei Jue broke down and let out a pig-killing scream, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand. He only dared to lift his boot and secretly rub it against his calf.
The girl watched in shock, a hint of a smile on her face. This kind of scene felt more familiar to her, and it put her somewhat at ease.
Rong Yu, keenly sensing the change in the girl's mood, looked more kindly on Wei Jue. She took the initiative to say with a smile, "I heard you run a restaurant at Cattail River. Business is just so-so?"
Wei Jue pitifully looked at Han Yi. Han Yi remained expressionless. Wei Jue looked again, and Han Yi reluctantly said quietly, "Miss Rong Yu asked you a question. Answer truthfully."
Wei Jue was then reassured. He said, "Business can't compare to the Old Oriole Lake garden—far inferior. My uncle worries that the restaurant might not survive. I guess he's afraid I'll go home and coast on the family savings. There's no other way. To be honest, our ancestors accumulated virtue but not wealth. My uncle came up with a lousy idea for me: wear opera costumes and sing opera. My face certainly has enough thickness, but my figure is lacking. Otherwise, honestly earning money by singing opera—what's wrong with that? Earning tips by real skill, it's not shameful!"
The girl dared not laugh at the amusing fatty. She just squinted and nodded vigorously.
Wei the Fatty raised an eyebrow and threw a look at the girl: Miss, you understand—when you get the chance, come to my restaurant and cheer me on. If you eat and drink, big brother won't charge you a single cent...
Han Yi, sweating profusely, was on the verge of collapse. Wei Fatty, Wei Grandpa, Wei Ancestor, just shut up, will you?
Do you realize that Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street might be turned upside down tonight?! The neighborhoods will lose some old faces and gain new ones?!
Wei the Fatty, of course, had no idea.
Rong Yu still gently held the girl's hand and patted her on the back of the hand. "His name is Wei Jue. He's also a young gentleman from Yi Chi Lane. Doesn't look like a good person, but his conscience weighs as much as his body?"
The strength or weakness of a nation is ultimately decided on the battlefield—life and death, victory and defeat. Anyone can see that clearly. Whether a battle was won or lost, common folk can roughly know.
On the battlefield, you stab at the enemy's army. Besides competing over who has more knives, you also have to strike quickly, accurately, and ruthlessly.
In addition, the blade must also point inward. And this is something ordinary people find hard to understand the ins and outs of.
Outside the gate of the Old Oriole Lake garden.
The young school marshal, riding on horseback, coldly watched the officials from the two ministries, who were like ants on a hot pan. Civil officials, whenever something happens, they panic like their butts are on fire.
The officials from the Court of State Ceremonial and the Ministry of Rites were indeed running around in circles. But there was nothing they could do—when faced with the soldiers of the Northern Administration, they were truly helpless.
The "officials" of the Northern Administration not only managed everything in the capital as "officials close to the people," but aside from the few clerks in the office, they were all proud soldiers and fierce generals transferred from the battlefield—or, to put it harshly, the emperor's hounds.
Better to curse in the Thousand Steps Corridor than to go have tea in three places. That was the consensus of the Great Li officialdom.
Those three places were the Ministry of Justice, which even handled matters of celestial immortals; the Censorate, under Yuan Chong's command for many years; and the Northern Administration under Hong Ji.
Before this cavalry unit charged out of the Capital Patrol Office, Commander Hong had said: Given the nature of the Ministry of Rites and the Court of State Ceremonial, they'll definitely spout all sorts of principles. Just block the door first.
These civil officials are ultimately not much.
When the time comes, you directly ask them: What are they going into the garden for? If it's to assist the Northern Administration in making arrests, let them in. If they start beating around the bush, give them a closed door.
One middle-aged official from the Court of State Ceremonial was clearly enraged. "School Marshal Situ, if a big uproar breaks out inside, especially if someone gets killed, it will escalate from a scuffle to a full-blown conflict between nations. What then? Since you're from the Northern Administration, do His Majesty a favor and save some worry..."
A young official from the Ministry of Rites was also furious. "Even if the Northern Administration is making arrests, following the Great Li regulations through the proper channels is still necessary, right? If we're present, the Northern Administration can save a lot of paperwork."
The young school marshal pressed his hand on the standard-issue waist blade of the Northern Administration. "Don't bother me with these formalities. I only take orders from Commander Hong. Right now, I'm just a gatekeeper. If I can't even guard a gate—can't do this small task—I'll be out of the Northern Administration tomorrow."
The Court of State Ceremonial official laughed in rage. "Situ Dianwu, should I kowtow to you? Begging you, you big shot, to let us pass?"
Situ Dianwu tightened his grip on the Northern Administration's special whip, wrapped with a section of bright yellow brocade with cloud patterns, and said expressionlessly, "Kowtow."
The young school marshal then curled his lip and added, "Even if you kowtow, you're not getting in."
The man shouted angrily, "Situ Dianwu, you little bastard, when I was suppressing bandits in Yunzhou with your father, you were still in diapers playing in the mud..."
The young school marshal was exuding murderous intent. He squinted and said, "Fuck your mother. On holidays, when I accompany my father visiting door to door, calling you 'Uncle'—you've taken enough advantage. Who do you think you're related to?!"
Outside the Old Oriole Lake gate, it was dead silent for a moment.
Situ Dianwu wasn't worried about this "uncle" coming after him later. The young school marshal was both expectant and anxious as he gazed toward the State Preceptor's Manor near the imperial palace.
You, who just became Great Li's State Preceptor—don't be a coward and start muddling things like these civil officials!
The soldiers of the Northern Administration, except for the very few civil officials, were almost all veterans of the Great Li border army. Situ Dianwu himself had walked out of a pile of corpses—and there were more who hadn't made it out.
Nearby was a rider a few years older than Situ Dianwu, named Qin Piao. He was a school marshal of the same rank serving as Situ Dianwu's deputy. Qin Piao had come from south of the Great River, and never left—not only did he not leave, but he even brought his family to the Great Li capital and settled here. This guy was Commander Hong's right-hand man, almost like a secret illegitimate son. Even Qin Piao's wife was a younger generation of one of Hong Ji's battlefield comrades and sworn brothers. Hong Ji personally played matchmaker, and later helped Qin Piao buy a house, served as his best man at the wedding—handled everything. The war was over; we were all citizens of the Great Li Dynasty.
Qin Piao had been silent. Compared to Situ Dianwu, he seemed like a dispensable foil in the Northern Administration.
We recognize the Great Li border army as our brothers who faced life and death together. We also recognize the Song clan of Great Li, who govern well and can resist the demon race.
But over the years, the Great Li officialdom itself has had divisions between locals and outsiders. So don't blame us for having to stick together. Within the Northern Administration, it's fine; they're all brothers in life and death. But in other offices? In the local prefectures and commanderies?
Over the years, Qin Piao had also made some friends outside the Northern Administration who shared his interests. They almost always asked a common question: Why didn't you stay in your hometown? By now, you'd probably have been promoted many times over, and could attend the morning court daily and see the emperor on his dragon throne—you'd have a chair in the small court here.
Qin Piao always said that since his wife was from here, he was afraid she wouldn't get used to his hometown—the food, the living, the customs—and that couldn't be helped.
The real reason was that Qin Piao liked the spirit deep in the bones of the Great Li Dynasty, like the strongest spirits!
Generals leading troops don't sell out their own. Generals don't stab each other in the back with blades on the battlefield. Civil officials don't use pen and ink to stab the generals' backs in the court and offices.
If I, Qin Piao, die on the battlefield one day, it's because I'm not skilled enough in commanding troops. I won't ask those messy "whys." I won't worry about the court behind me forgetting me and my soldiers. I won't worry about my elders having no one to support them. I won't worry about my children losing their father and being looked down upon.
I, Qin Piao, love this Great Li Dynasty!
But at the end of last year, he tentatively asked his wife if she'd like to visit his hometown—just to tour the mountains and rivers there. She was silent for a long time, then said yes.
Situ Dianwu's eyes suddenly reddened.
Whether killing enemies on the battlefield or patrolling the capital, it's what we should do! But all of you—at least have some principles for being human. Don't just think about being officials, big officials!
Just as Chen Ping'an was about to snap Yin Ji's neck.
A young man carrying a sword appeared on the wall. "State Preceptor. His Majesty says, you may kill."
Sword cultivator Song Xu, leader of the Earthly Branch lineage cultivators, second son of the Great Li Dynasty emperor.
He also had eleven fellow travelers and colleagues, among whom only Zhou Haijing was a ninth-realm martial artist, one of the four great martial review grandmasters of the Great Li Dynasty. Though she was at the bottom for now, she was still young. After she took out that old bastard Yu Hong—damn it, she'd probably still be at the bottom.
Song Jixin sighed faintly. Very well, Emperor Your Majesty, you win.
Song Xu's expression was radiant. He emphasized the words, "You may kill!"
Song Xu continued, "His Majesty said, if war is declared, then together with both the Haoran world and the Barbarian Wasteland world, we will fight the Great Ribbon Dynasty to the death!"
At that moment, Yin Ji seemed to have finally fallen into utter despair.
Crack.
The Great Ribbon Dynasty's emperor's neck broke.
Deep in the clouds resided many immortals; between heaven and earth were nothing but joys and sorrows, partings and reunions. A small flower hairpin, broken yet still willing to be mended, once thrown away and never taken back—perhaps it represented a piece of the Great Li Dynasty's people's hearts. It could surge into towering waves and floods, or it could flow mightily like the great river.
Just as everyone thought it was over.
Chen Ping'an's wide sleeves fluttered, and sword energy instantly filled heaven and earth. He said calmly, "Earthly Branch cultivators, hear my command. With me, by daylight, slay the ghost."
Flee if you will—just run.
I won't bully you, a Great Ribbon ghost creature. I will use only the Great Li dynasty's strength to kill the Great Ribbon's fourteenth realm within the Great Li borders.