Chapter 45: Drinking, Do Not Stop the Cup
A thousand rivers have a thousand moons; the same rice feeds a hundred kinds of people. Even if the Changpu River was no longer the pinnacle of extravagance and debauchery it once was, it remained the Changpu River of the Dali capital, like a naturally beautiful, heavily made-up woman who had merely shed a bit of her powder and ornamentation. To have drunk at the Changpu River was still the best proof for countless out-of-towners that they had truly visited the Dali capital.
Just like rustic country landlords showing off their wealth in the city, the only request from the guests at their table was to swap their drinking cups for bowls.
Taking advantage of being in a favorable position, Hong Ji asked about some anecdotes concerning the Sword Qi Great Wall during the meal. The young Imperial Advisor, who had served as the last hidden official over there, had probably had a bit too much of the fiery liquor, for he was in a talkative mood. He spoke of many names that Hong Ji was hearing for the first time and told many stories about drinking and passing the sword. Guo Zhujiu, a native sword cultivator, was rather quiet instead, only occasionally opening her mouth to ask about or confirm the identity of a certain person or the truth of a certain matter, as if she understood less about her homeland than this master of hers did.
Hong Ji was just over fifty years old and had already held the reins of the Northern Office for several years. He was a powerful minister of Dali who enjoyed the emperor's trust. Now, with the favor of the new Imperial Advisor, his "using a borrowed knife to kill someone" had thrown the entire capital's officialdom into chaos, scattering dregs everywhere. He believed that once the dust settled, Hong Ji would not lack compensation. When His Majesty returned from the Northern Ju Luzhou after concluding the tripartite alliance with the Cao clan of Great Duan and the Lu clan of Great Yuan, and Imperial Advisor Chen had also finished handling his "family affairs," then even if Hong Ji's position didn't change, it was likely he would gain some additional title.
Hong Ji's promotions hadn't been slow; he had climbed step by step, his advancement in officialdom very solid. First with the southern campaign of the Dali Iron Cavalry, then with the Dali border army's fighting retreat and stubborn defense of the secondary capital. Those two tough battles had produced many young, powerful military commanders in their early thirties, qualified to lead an army independently and build their achievements along the way. Among them were scions of military families like Liu Xunmei from Chier Street, and also many fierce border generals from humble backgrounds like Hong Ji. But no matter how disparate their family backgrounds were or what high positions they now held at court, they all shared one thing: they had had many, many friends back then, were all young, and would forever remain young.
The cook Yu Qing, true to the saying "a thief never returns empty-handed," had already stealthily learned several of the tavern's signature golden dishes. Just now, Guo Zhujiu had helped her master order a few home-style dishes and appetizers he most loved to eat when drinking. She herself had asked the head chef for a large bowl of Liuzhou river snail rice noodles, having heard so much about them. She wanted to try something new, asking the old master to add extra sour bamboo shoots and chili oil, and a bit more... In the end, she added so much that the chef got anxious, afraid she might ruin his reputation. When the girl finally turned her face away, saying it was too sour and spicy and not tasty. The young woman just said, "Don't worry, don't worry," personally carrying the large bowl of noodles back to the room. She sat cross-legged on a chair and asked the master beside her if he wanted some. Chen Ping'an quickly said no, easily reminded of the eel noodles used to entertain honored guests in the Water God's residence of the buried river.
Rong Yu chatted with the out-of-town girl who had just moved from the Old Oriole Lake Garden to the Changpu River, catching up on recent events. Occasionally, Rong Yu would tease Wei Shan a little, and the girl would always say a word or two in defense of the kind-hearted Manager Wei. Simply because from the kitchen chefs to the waitstaff, especially the women, no one was afraid of him. The girl had also heard that Manager Wei had previously gotten into a conflict with a customer for the sake of the tavern's people. No matter how much he apologized smilingly, it was useless. He ended up swallowing a bitter loss, losing face all the way to the tail end of the Changpu River. In the end, it seemed some righteous neighborhood childhood friend had helped, put in a good word, and settled the disturbance, preventing the tavern from closing down. They all saw and remembered this, but Manager Wei disliked bringing it up. He had a catchphrase: "With my two hundred plus catties of fat here, do I need to slap my face to look fat?"
Hong Ji was still pondering the matter of the Patrol Envoy, Pei Mao. The two had no connections, no private friendship whatsoever. If Pei Mao were to end up in trouble, following the footsteps of Mu Yanzhi and his ilk, Hong Ji wouldn't feel any sorrow at the fox's death. For someone to fall from a position almost too high to be promoted further and become a prisoner, it wasn't rare in the current capital. Wasn't he, Hong Ji, the biggest "accomplice"?
Hong Ji was a rough man with simple thoughts: since the knife was already drawn, who was cut didn't matter much.
Moreover, a blade handed out from the Imperial Advisor's residence, applied to anyone's neck, could draw blood without spattering it.
The territory of Dali, for all the talk, was only three parts: the spectral registry cultivators and landscape gods, shrouded in mystery; the officials sitting in yamens below the mountains; and the border cavalry on horseback.
Minister of War Shen Chen had just retired to his hometown. Heroic spirit, romantic feelings—it all seemed to have proper punctuation.
Before the old minister left the capital today, he rode his horse through the Thousand-Step Corridor, a sight so glorious it made officials in the yamens on both sides green with envy. Except for the relatively quiet Ministry of Revenue, the entrances of all other yamens were crowded with people, all witnessing the young Imperial Advisor leading the old man's horse. This scene stirred the hearts of countless young officials: "A true man should be like this!"
As for Xu Tong and the two vice ministers of Wuwang City, whether one succeeded as minister or not—whether it was to keep the fat water within the family or to ensure the new Ministry of War ran smoothly—it was all arguably acceptable. As long as the Imperial Advisor's residence nodded and the small court in the imperial study communicated, the court discussion would proceed smoothly. But still, it somehow lacked that certain something. Hong Ji, however, didn't have the appetite to aim for the Ministry of War himself. Whether in military merit or reputation, he admitted he was far from qualified. The gap between the third-rank commander of the Patrol City Office and the second-rank Minister of War was simply too vast. This wasn't a reason for him to be ungrateful just because he had the fortune to drink with the Imperial Advisor. Throughout history, how many heroes had been misled into becoming villains by the single word "greed."
Hong Ji didn't want the day to come when he and the Northern Office became the spectacle for the capital's officialdom.
Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine. "If the integration of Bingzhou into a circuit proceeds smoothly, I plan to raise the rank of a third-rank prefectural general to a full second-rank. Hong Ji, any thoughts?"
Hong Ji quickly shook his head and laughed, "Imperial Advisor, I come from the border army. I only welcome seeing this happen, no objections at all."
He thought to himself, that kid Qin Piao is really in luck. Just appointed as the deputy general of Lizhou, and when the rank of prefectural general is raised in the future, Qin Piao's official status will rise accordingly. He's only been out in the provinces for a few days, and he's already a candidate for a third-rank regional military commander? Won't Situ Dianwu, who stayed behind in the Northern Office, be green with envy?
Wait, third-rank? The same rank as himself, the Northern Office Commander?! The more Hong Ji thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He quickly lowered his head and took a big gulp of wine.
Chen Ping'an said, "From now on, Rong Yu will often have dealings with your Northern Office. Let Situ Dianwu be responsible for handling the specific matters."
Hong Ji immediately, almost instinctively, cupped his fists in acceptance. Rong Yu smiled, "I'll be causing a lot of trouble."
Chen Ping'an changed the subject and asked with a smile, "Hong Ji, I heard your in-law is a learned local academy headmaster?"
Hong Ji grinned, showing his teeth. "My in-law is indeed a gentleman. He has an excellent reputation in Weizhou. His whole life's focus has been solely on teaching. He has no savings, because whenever he has a little extra money on hand, he rushes to give it to students to buy books or sponsor their trips to the capital for examinations. He has a good daughter, and my brat of a son married above himself. The only trouble is, talking to him always requires me to chew on words a bit, to draft a mental script first. Even then, I still often make a fool of myself. Every time my son accompanies his wife back to her hometown for a visit, he always comes back with a few books, saying it's a gift from his father-in-law for me. Imperial Advisor, tell me, aren't these scholars just too malicious? Not just swearing without using dirty words—they can swear without even opening their mouths."
Chen Ping'an couldn't help but laugh. "So your first meeting was very harmonious?"
Hong Ji shook his head. "How could it be? I'm a man used to wielding a knife, he's a teacher. A scholar meeting a soldier—if they don't fight or argue, what could they talk about? The first meeting was... alright, I suppose. We both made concessions, forced small talk. It was awkward as hell."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "A literatus in the wild has a certain scholarly spirit: 'I seek not wealth and rank; others seek my essays.'"
Hong Ji slapped his thigh, his loud voice booming, "Yes, yes, yes! That's exactly the feeling. It's just not as precise as what the Imperial Advisor said. At most, I could feel a certain pride in the man, as if he were repeatedly reminding me, 'No matter how big your official hat is, I have more books in my house.'"
Chen Ping'an said, "If it were your in-law sitting here, he would definitely smile knowingly, but never slap his thigh."
Hong Ji wasn't embarrassed. Rough as he was and little as he read, he could still understand that implication.
Hong Ji had both a mind to strike while the iron was hot and indeed felt moved to speak. "Once, while drinking tea in my in-law's study, I saw and heard him personally instructing several scholars heading to the capital for the examinations. He told them all the ins and outs of clothing, food, housing, and travel in the capital, what to look out for. At the gate, he encouraged them with this: 'In the morning you are a farmer in the fields; by evening you ascend to the Hall of the Son of Heaven. But for many of our poor students, that 'morning and evening' often represents decades, or even centuries, of a family's endurance.'"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "That saying has substance."
Rong Yu glanced at the rough-featured Hong Ji.
She remembered that when she was young, she and Fu Qing had once witnessed a scene: Imperial Advisor Cui slowly paced in his study, then stopped and made a gesture.
When light shines into a seemingly clean room, and the person inside suddenly shakes out their clothes and flicks their sleeves, dust fills the air all around.
Chen Ping'an suddenly spoke. "I heard that your son Hong Lin once went south with the army as a civil secretary. He served as a county marshal in the former territory of the Zhu Ying Dynasty. Later, when the Dali border army fought bitterly against the wild wasteland demons within the borders, with constant back-and-forth, the local county magistrate sensed trouble and wanted to defect. Hong Lin, without waiting for the court's reply, privately set an ambush, killed over twenty people, and took the position of county magistrate himself. Afterwards, he led his troops in guerrilla warfare, at one point disguising himself as an envoy from the demon army's tent, tricking a prefectural city into opening its gates. More than two hundred people—corrupt officials and local gentry—were all shot dead by Hong Lin's troops using strong crossbows on the spot. After killing them all, they left without a trace."
Rong Yu placed a dish of food for Guo Zhujiu. This matter was still a rather ambiguous, unresolved case. Internally within the Dali border army, and within the Ministry of Justice in the capital and the secondary capital, there was naturally no doubt that they sided with Hong Lin. However, some yamens had brought it up stubbornly several times. Consequently, a document at the Imperial Advisor's residence, which had been passed up layer by layer to Cui Chan, had never been approved. Perhaps it was because the workload was heavy back then, with a thousand threads and countless matters; Embroidered Tiger simply couldn't be bothered with such trivialities. Or perhaps Cui Chan had done it deliberately. Regardless, since the Imperial Advisor's residence had not clearly spoken, this small matter had no definitive conclusion. As for the consequences, Hong Lin was not punished for it, but he remained the county magistrate of Longshou Plain to this day.
Guo Zhujiu's eyes sparkled. Hong Ji's son, acting so decisively? What official position does he hold now?
Hong Ji's heart tightened. He was afraid the Imperial Advisor thought Hong Lin's methods were too harsh, and was hinting for him to be careful lest someone use this to impeach Hong Lin and target the Northern Office?
Chen Ping'an nodded to himself, "Mm. A true father—no mediocre son."
Hong Ji carefully observed Imperial Advisor Chen's expression and tone. Certain it wasn't the kind of veiled warning, he was greatly relieved and laughed heartily, almost deliriously joyful. "This little brat is incredibly lucky to have his name and deeds known to the Imperial Advisor! When I go home tonight, I will definitely write a letter telling Hong Lin about this. This way, at least, it will let him stand a little taller in front of his wife, so he won't have to consult her about every little matter."
Not surprising. Any figure who could enter the Imperial Advisor's residence, whether an official or a cultivator, likely had their entire ancestral line's records thoroughly investigated.
The atmosphere of the Northern Office was also a topic of conversation in the capital's officialdom. Including Qin Piao, who had just been posted out as a general, they were all a bunch of henpecked husbands. No matter how arrogant and domineering they appeared outside, once home, they were always obsequious and slightly fawning towards their wives.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I first learned of Longshou Plain County Magistrate Hong Lin, and later of Hong Ji of the Northern Office. So when I first read the files of the Patrol City Office, it wasn't 'a true father, no mediocre son' that came to mind, but rather I couldn't help sighing, 'So this fellow is Hong Lin's father!'"
Hong Ji was stunned.
Rong Yu, however, knew that what the Imperial Advisor said was true. He had even specifically asked Fu Qing to pull the local documents at the time.
Guo Zhujiu asked curiously, "Commander Hong, is your son a sword cultivator?"
Hong Ji quickly waved his hand. "Hong Lin isn't even a cultivator, let alone a sword cultivator. He's just a scholar who plays with words, happened to get a minor post, and did some duty-bound work."
Guo Zhujiu said, "His way of doing things is very much like our sword cultivators."
Hong Ji was taken aback. In truth, given his years of experience in public service, he could have come up with dozens of appropriate responses to easily follow up that sentence. Yet, for some reason, in the end, Hong Ji could only remain silent.
There was a heroic spirit in the man's eyes.
Since you all speak so highly of my son, then as his father, I won't be polite—I'll take it as given.
Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl, pausing for a moment as if he were speaking casually. "Hong Ji, don't even think about the position of Governor of Lingwu Circuit. You're not suitable."
Hong Ji was speechless, clearly somewhat dejected. He took a fierce gulp of wine and admitted honestly, "I did think about it. Since the Imperial Advisor says I shouldn't, then I won't."
It was understandable. Yichixiang and Chier Street were privately nicknamed the "foundation of the state" within Dali. Moreover, there was frequent intermarriage among these powerful aristocratic families, with intricate relationships and entangled interests beneath the surface. Hong Ji and the Northern Office had essentially poked the biggest hornet's nest in the Dali court. If Hong Ji were not only promoted but also made the first Governor of Lingwu Circuit, those who were currently just crying out in grievance would, once they came to their senses and recovered, unite in common hatred and turn their spears against him and the Governor's Office. Simply put, as long as Hong Ji held office, their descendants and disciples would never have their cases overturned. In this war without smoke of gunpowder, if Hong Ji lost, and the first Governor of Lingwu Circuit was discredited, then the national policy of "Integrating Bingzhou into a Circuit" personally formulated by Imperial Advisor Chen would inevitably be implicated, suffering immeasurable long-term consequences.
Rong Yu was somewhat surprised. She had neither expected the Imperial Advisor to be so open with Hong Ji, nor had she expected Hong Ji to so bluntly admit to the Imperial Advisor that he had indeed harbored that thought.
Once Dali formally incorporated Bingzhou into a circuit, the Governor, as the chief official of a circuit, even if not all were made full second-rank as Minister of Personnel Cao Gengxin had envisioned, would at least start from the second rank. If it were the former, it would be equivalent in rank to the ministers of the capital's six boards. Moreover, having jurisdiction over all military, civil, and educational affairs, it would be far more substantial than the current prefectural governorship—a true regional potentate. Especially the Governor of Lingwu Circuit, whose jurisdiction included the three prefectures of the capital region, much like the counties of Changning and Yongtai within the county yamen system, both recognized as the number one county yamen in the world.
No wonder the Dali officialdom was guessing that Hong Ji was fighting so desperately, even at the cost of fully enmiring himself with Yichixiang and Chier Street, precisely to present a "letter of fealty" to the Imperial Advisor's residence, hoping to be exceptionally appointed as Dali's first Governor.
Chen Ping'an handed his wine bowl towards Hong Ji, lightly clinking it against Hong Ji's which he immediately raised. He teased, "Don't worry, I absolutely won't burn the bridge after crossing it. If you can't be the number one Governor in the world, settling for second place is always negotiable. But you can't rush it; it needs to be done slowly. The necessary formalities and official niceties must be observed—when in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"Before His Majesty left the capital, we discussed this matter privately. His Majesty's intention was for you to go to Luojing later this year and serve as the General of Luozhou for two or three years. It's a lateral transfer of sorts. Consider it a gesture of goodwill to Yichixiang and Chier Street, and a way to temporarily remove you from the capital's troubles, to prevent the Northern Office from becoming a scapegoat for the Imperial Advisor's residence. Before the integration of Bingzhou into a circuit, the rank of the prefectural general will be raised to full second-rank. After that, the secondary capital of Luojing will be incorporated into Huainan Circuit, and its Governor will also be full second-rank. Let me give you a heads-up: Huainan Circuit and Lingwu Circuit will be the only two, temporarily, that are full second-rank."
By the time Hong Ji heard this, his eyes were burning with passion. "Imperial Advisor, will I really be exceptionally promoted to a full second-rank regional chief?"
The lifelong dream finally came true. At that moment, rather than overwhelming excitement or surprise, it felt more like a dream.
Hong Ji raised his wine bowl, his fingers trembling slightly. He tried hard not to lose his composure and asked cautiously, "No trouble from the Prince of Luo's side?"
Chen Ping'an laughed. "I talked about this with Song Jixin before he left the capital. I put all the cards on the table, straight up told him I was sending a capable official trusted by the court to Luojing to keep an eye on him, so he wouldn't start a rebellion one day."
Hong Ji was stunned. Could the conversation between the Imperial Advisor and the Prince of Luo be that blunt? Wasn't he worried his words might be too harsh and cause the Prince to feel resentful?
Then he thought again. Imperial Advisor Chen and Prince of Luo, Song Mu, were childhood neighbors.
It seemed the rumors circulating outside were indeed untrustworthy. Actually, the Imperial Advisor and the Prince had long been close friends and kindred spirits back on Niping Alley?
Chen Ping'an said with a hint of self-deprecation, "If I had first said you could at least become the Governor of Huainan Circuit, and then said you had no hope of being Governor of Lingwu Circuit, you would have been disappointed. Now, instead, you feel pleasantly surprised. Doesn't this explain why reclusive scholars can never beat civil officials in the court?"
Hong Ji was speechless.
Wei Fatty knocked on the door and brought in several hot dishes, some of his signature specialties he had cooked himself. Chen Ping'an invited the manager to sit down for a drink. Wei Fatty rubbed his hands and said he was still busy. Chen Ping'an didn't insist. Wei Fatty left the room, gently closing the door behind him. Hong Ji picked up his chopsticks and offered sincere praise: apart from being a bit slow-witted, Fatty Wei had no fault with his cooking. Suddenly, Hong Ji frowned, looking towards the door. Chen Ping'an raised his bowl and said, "Drink."
Wei Shan left the room, feeling as if he were in another world, unable to believe it was real. He vigorously rubbed his cheeks, about to move on. A drunken young master just so happened to pass by. Seeing Wei Shan standing in the corridor in a daze, he teased, "Wei Fatty, what are you standing here for? Eavesdropping on the guests inside telling spicy jokes? Join me, join me..."
Wei Fatty's scalp tingled. How could he let the man continue his nonsense? He quickly squeezed out a smile, grabbed the young man's arm firmly, and pulled him away, quickly turning a corner. Once they were far from that room, the young man finally shook free from Wei Fatty's greasy arm, looking displeased. Wei Fatty was really getting bold! Pointing at his nose, Wei Fatty began to curse. Wei Fatty bent over and apologised profusely. The young master gave him no face, sneering on the spot, "Who's 'good brothers' with you? Are we familiar?!"
Wei Fatty wiped the sweat from his forehead, cheekily not taking offence. He never dared to mention who was sitting in that room earlier.
This fellow was indeed foul-mouthed, always prone to bragging without any basis after a few drinks. But over the years, he had indeed been a regular customer at the tavern.
Wei Fatty, still thick-skinned, escorted the rich young master to his room and even made a round of toasts, personally pouring wine and drinking with the guests one by one before finally leaving the room.
Being looked down upon by everyone, at the table and outside—after all, it was his own lack of ability.
But letting a guest suffer in his own tavern was a breach of a shop owner's integrity.
No matter how little Wei Shan understood officialdom, he knew that if that young man had provoked someone inside that room, someone like Hong Ji, who might open the door and scold him a few words; and if the young man, being drunk, hadn't recognized who it was and had replied with disrespect... Wei Shan had a good idea what the general outcome would be.
Walking alone down the corridor paved with an imitation of Caiyi Kingdom's "floor cloth," he thought of a scene and secretly chuckled. For instance, if he had been slightly more black-hearted, let that fellow ramble on, disturbing the people inside the room, and Hong Ji opened the door. The young man would have seen him, recognized the "King Yama" of the Northern Office, and might have pissed his pants on the spot! Then Hong Ji would have dropped a line or two... Just thinking about it was pretty fun. Wei Fatty belched, clasped his hands behind his head, and repeated his mantra: Hey, yours truly has also made something of himself today!
Wei Shan suddenly turned his head, catching sight of a delicate young girl with two rosy cheeks asking him for directions. Wei Shan was taken aback, confirmed with the girl again that it was indeed that room, his heart in turmoil. He quite suspected the girl had mistaken the room. His mind racing, Wei Fatty came up with an idea. He led the girl towards the room, knocked on the door, and quickly pulled it open, letting the girl see clearly who was sitting inside. As expected, when the girl saw the Imperial Advisor and Hong Ji, she was visibly startled and whispered softly to the manager, "Manager, what do I do? I got the room wrong." Wei Fatty's scalp crawled. He quickly stepped in front of the girl, not looking at the Imperial Advisor, but smiling towards Hong Ji, asking if they needed another dish or two... Hong Ji smiled knowingly, waved his hand, and said no. Wei Fatty was greatly relieved. He gently closed the door again, raised an arm to wipe his sweat, smiled, and asked the girl if she remembered which room it was. The girl looked annoyed, stamped her foot, and said she had made a mistake. It seemed to be the next room. The moment Wei Fatty heard the word "seemed," his head started to ache again. Different times now, too many unfamiliar faces among the guests. What connections were behind which guest in which room? Heaven only knows. You, young lady, don't go causing trouble for yourself...
Having lightly used a crude concealment technique to hide her mink hat, Xie Gou nodded. This fatty was indeed a rather chivalrous soul of the martial world.
Wei Fatty, however, was wondering whose carefree daughter she was.
Before he knew it, Wei Shan saw the girl pull open the door, hands on her hips, and burst out laughing.
Wei Fatty felt as if he had been struck by lightning, standing there dumbfounded. His mind raced with how to salvage the situation. Would Hong Ji have the thought of raiding his family home?
Xie Gou laughed. "Mountain Lord, Alliance Leader Guo, your humble Chief Supplicant has made an emergency descent from the mountain to report an important matter! Oh, and this kind Manager helped show the way."
Chen Ping'an smiled and gestured, "Manager Wei, come in and have a drink to calm your nerves."
"Let me introduce you. This is Xie Gou, also known by one of her mountain dao names, Bai Jing. She's a sword cultivator and the Chief Supplicant of our Fallen Mountain."
"Xie Gou, this is Manager Wei of the tavern, named Wei Shan. He comes from a major family in Yichixiang, but doesn't like to mix in officialdom and only wants to be a good cook."
Xie Gou was shocked. "Wei Qiong [Poor]? How rich do you have to be to dare give yourself such a name!"
Guo Zhujiu said, "It's 'Shan,' as in 'zou yun shan' [walk evenly, Shan]."
Xie Gou said awkwardly, "Alliance Leader Guo, it is I who am ignorant and ill-informed."
Guo Zhujiu nodded. "Go back and copy it a hundred times to deepen the impression."
Xie Gou said listlessly, "Alright."
Sitting down with the at-a-loss Wei Fatty, Xie Gou scooted her chair closer and whispered, "Yichixiang, wow, a major family. Manager Wei, how about a deal? Are you all taking in any family supplicants in the near future? The price is negotiable! We're all family here, I'll give you an 20% discount..."
Sensing Guo Zhujiu's gaze, Xie Gou immediately changed her tune, "50% off!"
Wei Fatty's mind was buzzing. The girl in the mink hat with the rosy cheeks walking at the front, Bai Jing, Chief Supplicant of Fallen Mountain... a sword immortal, a Flying Ascension stage sword immortal at that...
Wei Shan naturally didn't dare take it seriously. He assumed "Bai Jing" was joking—the great mountain wanderers playing around in the mortal world, unbound by convention.
Xie Gou looked at him seriously. "Why look down on your own kindness and gentleness? That is a very remarkable thing to be right."
Wei Fatty felt a surge of heat. He filled his own bowl to the brim. Not speaking of distant things like supplicants or sword immortals, he just wanted to drink a full bowl of fire liquor with her. Cheers!
Xie Gou drank alcohol like water. Wei Fatty couldn't match her capacity. After three bowls, he raised the white flag and took his leave. Xie Gou reminded Manager Wei not to forget about the family supplicant matter. Wei Shan didn't know how to respond and instinctively looked towards Hong Ji... Imperial Advisor Chen. Chen Ping'an told Xie Gou not to act on every whim. Chief Xie had to hint to Manager Wei with her eyes: we'll discuss this later, at length.
Xie Gou wiped her mouth and poured out the story like beans from a bamboo tube. First, she reported the recent situation on Fallen Mountain to her Mountain Lord. She said that Heavenly Master Zhao had graced Piyun Mountain with his presence, had gone with Wei Bo into the Piyun Temple, and had even given a lecture on Thunder Method at Huaying Peak. The lecture had startled and awed Daoist Qingqiu, who no longer dared to underestimate the "Daoists" of ten thousand years later. Heavenly Master Zhao wanted to take Chai Wu on a journey through some landscapes. As Chai Wu's master, she naturally had no objections, but she still needed a verbal permission from the Mountain Lord. Furthermore, thanks to Chief Gan's warm invitation, Liu Cha had finally agreed to allow the young men and women from Tiaoyu Mountain—both cultivators and martial artists—to go to Huanghu Mountain to study and seek dao. Lastly, there was a flying sword message from Zhoushan, on Sui Mountain, to the Patriarch Hall on Jise Peak. The old cook hadn't dared to delay—he had read the secret letter. Zhou You seemed to be reminding the Mountain Lord not to forget a certain promise he had made. He invited the Mountain Lord to visit Sui Mountain soon to discuss something in person, anytime within three days. If the Dali affairs were too heavy and he couldn't get away, he should let him know quickly, and he, Zhou You, could also take a long trip to Baoping Continent.
Additionally, concerning the crucial joining of the two sections of waterway on Tongye Continent—the start of everything is difficult, but now one could say they had made a good start. Several sects from the Jade Gui Sect wanted the Mountain Lord to appear there for a while. For similar matters, their own Sect Leader Cui had already written countless letters. Some of the paper was wrinkled, and at the end of each letter, Cui would explain that these were tear stains. Previously, the old cook had managed to fend them off with words, but now he felt that the joining of the Great River was a major event. If the Mountain Lord could find time to go to Tongye Continent soon, make a quick round trip, even just to clear his mind, it would be good.
Chen Ping'an said, "You are Chai Wu's dao transmitter. Her cultivation matters are yours to decide. Just don't forget to sincerely thank Heavenly Master Zhao."
"I will go to Sui Mountain in the Central Earth tonight. After that, I'll go to Tongye Continent first before returning to Baoping Continent. I'll try to make it quick. But I have a set schedule tomorrow morning—I need to see two groups of people at the Imperial Advisor's residence."
"Regarding Liu Cha, you remind Old Deaf One of one thing: his pursuit of dao at Huanghu Mountain shouldn't be too casual. Too frequent isn't good. Over time, both parties may lose interest and become increasingly perfunctory. It's best to pick times when Liu Cha has had a good catch. That Liu Cha, with his mediocre fishing skills and smelly creel, is usually in a good mood at those times and will be more willing to talk."
Xie Gou nodded eagerly, memorizing everything. The Mountain Lord was really an old hand at this. Admirable!
She thought to herself, after eating and drinking, she would go find her friends to play. At the Capital's Flower God Temple, a temporary Patriarch Hall had been secretly established. The Flower Goddesses from the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land in the Central Earth Divine Continent had not been this busy for a long time. If creating a "Hundred Flowers River" was a long-term plan, the most pressing matter at hand was for each of them to select a prefecture within Dali to establish their own temple, to "seal friendship forever."
The Balsam Flower God, Wu Cai, had deliberately chosen a less wealthy small prefecture, Juzhou, to build her flower god temple. Juzhou was notoriously barren; it matched her own poor and destitute dao, right? Unexpectedly, after the Dali court meeting, when she heard that Guan Yiran was about to become the Prefect of Juzhou, Juzhou instantly became the center of attention. The sisters were all very surprised, praising her for having good judgment. Was she prescient? This made Wu Cai quite proud for a while. Of course, she didn't forget to tell this good news to Xie Gou, who was working in the Imperial Advisor's residence. Unfortunately, when she went there, Xun the Ceremonial Attendant said Miss Xie was out. Wu Cai had to return to the Flower God Temple empty-handed. Ever since she befriended Xie Gou, good news she had never dared to dream of kept coming one after another! Lucky things that made her smile in her dreams just kept piling up!
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Once Number One Scholar Zhang Ding took his seat, the drinking officially began. Cao Qinglang and Xun Qu both helped Zhang Ding fend off a few toasts, but Zhang Ding still stumbled out of the room to vomit. Yan Yi, who shared the same examination year and hometown as Zhang Ding, silently got up and followed him. The two companions, just by age, looked more like father and son. Zhang Ding wasn't good at socializing. Yan Yi was also an official who had endured year after year in the Ministry of Justice. Although there was a saying among officials, "The yamen is made of iron, but officials flow like water," everyone knew that the Ministry of Justice was a dead-end road. The more proficient one was in penal law, the more outstanding one's talents, the harder it was to transfer out.
Zhang Ding felt as if he was throwing up his very guts. Yan Yi could only squat beside him, gently patting his back.
After a bout of dry heaving, Zhang Ding wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shook his head vigorously, and said, "Sorry about this."
Yan Yi shook his head. "It's nothing."
Yan Yi and Li Xian, whose ages were the most disparate, shared the same examining master—Vice Minister of Justice Zhao Yao. Logically, entering the Ministry of Justice in the capital should have allowed them to bask in a little reflected glory. But in truth, having one was like having none. In Yan Yi's view, having such a connection was worse than not having it. He had been chewed out mercilessly by Vice Minister Zhao in front of a room full of ministry directors. The bitterness of this, he knew in his heart. If he ever complained, his colleagues would look at him with suspicion, thinking he was being ingratiating while pretending to be aggrieved, and would only find him more annoying.
Zhang Ding said in a trembling voice, "Brother Yan Yi, give me a moment."
Yan Yi sighed. "If you can't hold your liquor, you shouldn't have come."
People like him, Yan Yi, could choose not to offer a toast if they didn't want to. You, the Number One Scholar, couldn't avoid it.
Zhang Ding's face was helpless. He didn't explain further. For officials in the capital who could still drink at these gatherings, they were actually among the luckier ones. Zhang Ding's official luck was naturally much better than Yan Yi's. But the Ministry of Revenue seemed to have one disaster after another. First, the Great Waterway Graft Case was settled by the Imperial Advisor's residence, dragging Minister Mu Yan down with it. Pulling up the radishes brought up the mud—a whole nest of high officials, important ministers, and noble scions were crying to the heavens, still eating prison rations. Recently, two major granaries in the capital region had encountered big problems again. The court had already sealed the warehouses and started auditing the accounts. Besides the Ministry of Revenue investigating itself, openly and secretly, there were many officials from other yamens investigating those who were investigating. Instinct told Zhang Ding it was like a war. The commanding general had been captured, positions were falling one after another. The once seemingly most solid transportation department would likely not be able to hold either.
This storm in the capital was like a sudden flood. The "backing" and high mountains that once stood unshakable in the officialdom had all turned into isolated islands. And no one could guarantee that they and their family would definitely "make it to shore" and escape unscathed.
He patiently waited for Zhang Ding to "come back to life," his complexion improving somewhat. Yan Yi helped Zhang Ding to his feet. This aged old clerk of the Ministry of Justice was horrified to see that at the end of the corridor, outside the doorway, stood a "handsome young man" in plain clothes—his very own examining master, Vice Minister Zhao Yao!
It was obvious that Vice Minister Zhao had been standing silently at the door for quite a while.
There was a saying circulating within the capital's officialdom, though not widely: in the last century, the Song clan of Dali, the civil officials of Yichixiang, and the military scions of Chier Street were like the three protagonists of a book, jointly writing a story titled "Fish Transforming into Dragon."
And the Chief Editor responsible for compiling the book was the Imperial Advisor nicknamed Embroidered Tiger, Cui Chan.
Furthermore, the "Proofreader" ranked first, the "Collating Secretary," was Zhao Yao, who held absolute sway in the Dali Ministry of Justice.
---
A young martial arts apprentice from a place called Mayi County was eager to go to Yichixiang and Chier Street to broaden his horizons, but his senior brothers stopped him, saying not to go near that nest of trouble for the time being. Who knew how many Northern Office spies and Ministry of Justice investigators were secretly watching those places? Their own martial arts school had just set up shop; they shouldn't invite trouble. The tumultuous waves of this Dali officialdom could drown them with just a splash.
Besides the two streets, Mayi County was also very eager to see the immortal shops of Gaosu Ferry and the military ferries of Mingdi Ferry. Unfortunately, the young man had no money and didn't dare go to the Gaosu Ferry, which was rumored to have more immortals than mortals. As for the heavily guarded Mingdi Ferry, even money couldn't get him in.
He remembered Cao Mo saying he hung around the Thousand-Step Corridor. Had he ever been to those places?
The senior brother in charge of the school's accounts learned that Cao Mo had given a Spirit Coin as a wedding gift, and Mayi County had actually dared to accept it. He pulled his junior brother aside privately and gave him a thorough scolding, asking why he hadn't returned it to Cao Mo. After all, it was a Snowflake Coin, worth a thousand taels of silver. Cao Mo, a martial artist who often needed to go into the mountains to gather herbs to supplement his family's finances, didn't seem like the type of person with money to burn. If someone gave a gift out of friendship, and you accepted it, weren't you being thick-headed?! Mayi County had always respected this senior brother. He took the scolding without talking back, listening to his senior brother drone on about the master's teachings and such. But he felt a little wronged inside. At the time, he had said he would return the gift money, but Cao Mo said there was no need, that it was just small change.
The young man told Senior Brother Gao Xiu about the Yuanrou Station Azure Cavern incident. Gao Xiu didn't take it seriously—not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't dare.
In the twilight, a guest arrived. He announced himself as Wei Li from the Sihai Martial Arts School, a sort of half-colleague to the White Cloud Escort Agency, now trying to make a living in Yongtai County as well.
Gao Xiu was extremely surprised. Mayi County was also astonished. Was this the "Wei Golden Body" who had once exchanged four punches with the martial arts grandmaster Pei, one of the four major martial arts critics of Baoping Continent, in the Dali secondary capital?
The nickname "Wei Golden Body" indeed carried significant weight. Even in the Dali capital, a place teeming with hidden dragons and crouching tigers, Wei Li could be considered someone.
Everyone at the escort agency was baffled. They couldn't figure out why Wei Li would take the initiative to visit. Logically, the two parties had neither kinship nor enmity. Even if Wei Li had just sent a disciple to deliver a visiting card, it would have been respectful and polite enough. Senior Brother Gao Xiu thought it over. He was actually intimidated too, his heart thumping. But his mouth just told his junior brothers and sisters to stay calm; he would go and sound out Wei Li first. See if he had come to pick a fight or to offer support. Better to wait and see.
Mayi County and the others, as half-baked cultivators, at least had a Cave Dwelling realm master, Hong Zhengyun, who was also a formally registered cultivator in the Dali Ministry of Rites. They had a mountain, a lineage, a heritage—they just lacked a grand Patriarch Hall at the moment. Logically, they had no connection to Wei Li of the Sihai Martial Arts School. Could it be that their teacher's network was so vast? Could he even be on smiling terms with a martial arts grandmaster as famous as Wei Li?
Wei Li entered the martial arts school and chatted amiably with Mayi County's senior brother, who was responsible for entertaining guests. He said his Sihai School only took on disciples to teach boxing, and had never been in the escort business. Hearing that their new neighbor, the White Cloud Escort Agency, specialized in this, he came to have a look. If they could reach an agreement today, they could make money together. But the profit split would be seventy-thirty. Moreover, if any problems arose on the road—whether from local officials, tax checkpoints, or even banditry—the White Cloud Escort Agency would have to pay compensation out of its own pocket and handle the legal disputes... Wei Li was clearly asking the White Cloud Escort Agency to provide the manpower and do all the traveling year-round, while the Sihai School would simply introduce the business and enjoy a guaranteed 80% of the profit. It was pure profit for them, just lying down and raking in the money. Mayi County's eyes widened. Geez, they're here to rob us?
Was this Wei Li some kind of gangster? Making a living by shaking people down year-round in Yongtai County? Mayi County was so angry he almost blurted out a lie without thinking: "I have a brother who hangs around the Thousand-Step Corridor! Don't try to shake me down—I've got connections too!"
As Hong Zhengyun's senior disciple, Gao Xiu, though mediocre in cultivation talent, was not impatient or angry. He calmly haggled with the long-famous Master Wei. Apart from being the senior brother, Gao Xiu had followed his master all over the country for years. He often had to teach on behalf of the master, set rules, play the good cop/bad cop routine with the master, and also take care of his junior siblings' clothing, food, and daily needs. It had turned a grown man into a nagging, fussy "Big Sister." Saying he had raised Mayi County and the other brats, cleaning up after them, was no exaggeration at all.
Because Gao Xiu was the oldest and had been with the master the longest, he knew best the truth of the old saying "the start of everything is difficult." Besides, before they left the mountain, their master had repeatedly emphasized that "it's hard to live in the capital." To establish themselves here, they first had to break the ice. If not for the overly unequal profit split, this would actually be a good opportunity—like someone handing you a pillow just as you fall asleep.
Wei Li told the escort agency to think it over, then stood up and took his leave.
The brothers gathered to discuss it. Some worried that they might transform into a private money pouch for the Sihai School. Would Wei Li lead them astray into shady dealings? If their master found out they had taken a wrong turn, he'd scold them half to death! Would the escort agency close down just a few days after opening? Would they fail to earn even two immortal coins and instead drain their master's and the sect's meager savings? Mayi County and the others were all frowning with worry. Luckily, Senior Brother Gao Xiu handled things methodically. He remembered the few people from the public offices who had come to congratulate the agency earlier and said he would treat them to a drink in return. Mayi County was like "don't mention a pot if it's not boiling," asking, "Senior Brother, do we have the spare money to treat them to good wine and food?" Gao Xiu was so exasperated he laughed. "We still have that one Snowflake Coin! We'll return it to Cao Mo later!" Mayi County muttered under his breath, "Take me along when you eat. Better go to the Changpu River. Their taverns are famously good."
Leaving the escort agency gate, Wei Li breathed a sigh of relief, a hint of self-mockery on his face. Making money, of course, isn't easy. But giving money away isn't simple either.
He figured the escort agency would probably be sending people to check his school's reputation and background by now.
This morning, Grandmaster Pei Qian had graced the Sihai School with her presence, sending him two disciples. Pei Qian had also mentioned a small matter—she wanted Wei Li to help out the White Cloud Escort Agency a bit. Wei Li, an old hand, hadn't rushed to throw money at the escort agency. Instead, he had sent two of his most skilled and worldly-wise disciples to the Yongtai County yamen to pull some strings, and where not against the rules, to inquire about the small escort agency's general details. Once he had a rough idea, he personally visited their doorstep, "making things difficult" for these newcomers who were also strangers in a strange land.
In days gone by, he hadn't dared to acknowledge his hometown. He had wandered everywhere, lonely and miserable, the wind and rain lashing his face. After toiling all the way to the Dali capital, he still spent his days in silent bitterness, feeling dull and dreary. His body was tens of thousands of miles away from his homeland. He had weathered frost and scorching sun, and had now experienced the warmth of spring breezes one after another. Yet, he still dreaded most seeing dishes from his hometown or hearing its dialect. This year, today, it was completely different. Perhaps he had finally forgiven himself, or perhaps he had fooled himself. Walking down the street, the warm breeze caressed his face, his body and mind at ease. He actually felt like going to a wine shop and buying a jug of the yellow wine from his hometown to have a taste.
The martial artist Wei Li strode off. The setting sun cast a long shadow of the homesick man, like the string of an old erhu.
---
Bian Chuntang, a petty clerk in the Revenue Section of Yongtai County, would spend any free time he had studying the arcane knowledge of grain and penal law. He lived in a rent-free shared government dormitory. Today, after a hasty dinner, Bian Chuntang hurried back to his lodging. Taking advantage of the remaining daylight, he quickly washed his hands with clean water and, by the window, leafed through the dozen or so books he had read countless times. Except for a little fraying at the corners, the pages had no stains. Wealthy scholars were more concerned with the content of the books. For a "scholar" like Bian Chuntang, the concept of "treasuring paper and respecting characters" was evidently taken more literally.
Lu Zhuang, a bachelor from the county yamen's jail, had nothing to do, so he pocketed a handful of melon seeds and came to chat with his friend.
Bian Chuntang flipped through his books while chatting idly with his friend. The topics were all the shocking rumors from the capital's officialdom. But when spoken from the mouths of petty clerks like them, they seemed rather ordinary. The distance was too great. Unlike the capital's officials, who even trembled at the mere mention of certain names.
Lu Zhuang was a military man. After being wounded, he had withdrawn from the border army and was now coasting along at the county yamen. For some reason, he didn't even bother going to the Military Section for duty. In Lu Zhuang's view, the fish-scale land registers and tax ledgers stored by the Revenue Section over the years would give anyone a headache. Yet, Bian Chuntang seemed to be able to pick out flowers from them.
Lu Zhuang cared more about his friend's future than about his own. Cracking melon seeds, he rehashed the same old arguments: "If you can get promoted smoothly within the Revenue Section, or transfer to become a clerk specifically assisting the County Magistrate, those would be good choices. Chuntang, don't take it lightly. Don't underestimate the importance of daily socializing. Look at certain people—not to mention how they act in front of County Magistrate Wang, but even when they see Magistrate Wang's son on the road..."
Bian Chuntang waved his hand, stopping his friend from continuing. He smiled, "How could I not know these principles? But when words come to my mouth, when the moment arrives, I just can't say them or do them."
The Yongtai County yamen was a big establishment, on par with a prefectural yamen in scale, and perhaps even larger in number of personnel. The Revenue Section alone was divided into a South and a North room. Bian Chuntang was currently the "Head of the Year" of the South Room, one of the deputy directors under the Chief Clerk, the top position in the Revenue Section. Because Bian Chuntang had not entered officialdom through the proper civil examination route, he lacked scholarly honors and was not included in the official hierarchy. In the Dali dynasty, he had no official rank. "Officials" and "clerks"—a difference of one character, but a chasm as wide as clouds and mud.
Lu Zhuang sighed and joked, "Flipping through these books all your life won't earn you the black gauze hat of a county magistrate."
Bian Chuntang smiled but didn't reply. Perhaps the poor scholars of the world were themselves the longest piece of exhortatory poetry on learning.
He considered himself a minor, turbid-stream clerk with a smattering of literacy. He probably wouldn't amount to much in his lifetime. But his son was a scholarly seed. Bian Chuntang hoped he could one day become a Cultivated Talent. A Provincial Graduate was a hope he dared not even entertain.
Nominally, the Changning County yamen oversaw the most powerful officials in the Dali dynasty, while Yongtai County oversaw the richest merchants.
For instance, the temporarily "acting" County Magistrate Han Yi, every autumn harvest, would personally cut a handful of rice and present it to the Emperor, his "rent" to the Changning County yamen. How imposing was that for a Changning County Magistrate?
Lu Zhuang hesitated for a moment, then said, "My relationship with Instructor Liu is decent. If I set it up, you can find an opportunity to treat him to a meal?"
Bian Chuntang shook his head. "It's useless. Instructor Liu has a heart as clear as a mirror. He knows best what people like us are worth today or tomorrow. He won't change his mind for a single meal. I won't waste the money, and you don't need to owe a favor. Neither is necessary."
Lu Zhuang picked up a melon seed and pointed at his friend, who seemed so unruffled. He laughed angrily, "Look at how their Director Yu and Instructor Liu studied, and then look at you, Bian Chuntang. What kind of studying is that?"
Bian Chuntang closed his book, gently smoothing it. He laughed heartily, "I seek nothing else. Only that our family may be known as a scholarly family, starting from my generation."
The county's Director and Instructor were the principal and deputy education officials. To a certain extent, they could determine the future of an aspiring scholar's "official honors." Especially in Yongtai County, the education officials were naturally in high demand—refined and powerful. Who didn't butter them up? Even the black-hearted gangsters wanted their children to study hard, let alone the wealthy merchants and magnates of the Dali capital.
Bian Chuntang used to frequently consult the two teachers for knowledge, but they didn't like to pay him any attention. For a clerk to gain learning from them was like swindling money from their pockets. However, there was a Mr. Xu, the yamen's geomancy master—colloquially, a feng shui expert within the county yamen. But in Dali, especially in the dragon-and-tiger lurking Capital region, even if old Xu had some genuine learning, what use was it? Nevertheless, the old man had a high opinion of Bian Chuntang. He often pulled him aside for chats, also dragging along Lu Zhuang, who seemed to be there to fill a slot at meals. They would go to a small eatery, drink, and shoot the breeze. The old man talked about stars and geography. He was indeed a good talker.
The old man once said Bian Chuntang's physiognomy was incredibly noble, that he was bound to rise in the world.
But Lu Zhuang also knew that old Xu seemed to say this to many people in the county yamen. For instance, he had told Lu Zhuang that he would hit his big luck in middle age.
Nevertheless, a good word that costs nothing is still a good word, isn't it?
A young clerk from the Revenue Section came running, respectfully addressed his superior, "Head Bian," and then turned to Lu Zhuang, shouting, "Brother Lu!" He said a man was at the yamen, claiming to be Gao Xiu from the White Cloud Escort Agency, who wanted to invite Head Bian for a meal at the Changpu River. Bian Chuntang was puzzled. Lu Zhuang, however, burst out laughing, saying he had only been to those Changpu River taverns a few times in his life and he had to agree. Bian Chuntang thought it over and decided to accept the invitation. But of course, they couldn't go to the Changpu River—that money pit. The White Cloud Escort Agency had just set up shop; they probably weren't well-off either. He couldn't let Lu Zhuang have his way. Lu Zhuang was actually just joking. He stood up as well, put his arm around the young clerk's shoulder, and mysteriously said, "Do you know how Old Xu calculated your fortune?" The young man was naturally curious. Lu Zhuang lowered his voice, "Old Xu says you have a good fate, you might become a big official one day. Remember, when you get rich and famous, don't forget Brother Lu..." Bian Chuntang was equally helpless. There were only the three of them in the room, and they all had good fates?
Walking quickly, Bian Chuntang saw Gao Xiu waiting at the county yamen gate. They exchanged polite pleasantries. Gao Xiu smiled and insisted they must go to the Changpu River.
Bian Chuntang naturally refused. Gao Xiu patted the shoulder of the young man beside him. He had his reasons—his junior brother had dreamed of going to the Changpu River to broaden his horizons.
---
Pei Jing was treating his father to drinks. Their room wasn't even by the river; they couldn't see either the Changpu River or the Haidai Gate.
The man, however, didn't care about such niceties at all. He raised his cup, took a sip of wine, and asked, "What have you been busy with lately?"
Asked about yamen business, Pei Jing was on high alert. He secretly cleared his throat and said, "As per regulations, we are collating and editing all imperial edicts, memorials, replies, and discussions stored in the Imperial Advisor's residence from the past three years. There are fifteen of us, including myself, each responsible for copying different volumes. I and a colleague, Yuan Zhen, are in charge of the Introduction Register and the Morning Affairs Register. Because Imperial Advisor Cui had... circumstances in recent years, there are only three volumes in total. It took us about a month."
The man asked, "Yuan Zhen? A member of the Yuan clan?"
Pei Jing shook his head. "Yuan Zhen is not from the Yuan clan of Yichixiang. We are both from ordinary backgrounds."
The man seemed to have heard a huge joke. "You, Pei Jing, are considered an ordinary background?"
Although Pei Jing was utterly terrified of his father, he was extremely confident on this one point. In fact, there was even a hint of pent-up resentment accumulated over the years. The truth was, for all these years, Pei Jing had indeed received no special favors. He had taken no shortcuts in officialdom. He had even deliberately avoided and been wary of many things. Partly because his parents were strict, giving no room for negotiation, and partly because Pei Jing had his own pride. "Father, back then I entered the Imperial Advisor's residence by passing the civil examinations on my own merit, not by relying on my surname."
The man was noncommittal on this point. He shifted the topic. "Tell me, what's the point of an old, rigid rule in the Imperial Advisor's residence that makes you dozen or so literary secretaries run around for a whole month doing something that one or two Qi Refiners could finish in half a day? Afraid you're too idle, so they give you something to do?"
Pei Jing explained, "To familiarize ourselves as quickly as possible with all aspects of Dali's government. The one who stands out the most becomes a generalist; at the very least, one becomes a specialist."
The man nodded, satisfied with his son's answer. He offered a few extra pointers. "In the future, the selection of Dali's regional officials will increasingly emphasize an official's track record. People like Guan Yiran and Yuan Zhengding are good examples. They must have served as hands-on magistrates, then transferred through various posts in prefectures, circuits, and the capital's six boards and nine courts, before finally earning the opportunity to become a regional potentate and govern a territory."
Pei Jing nodded.
The man continued, "This line of thought was started by Imperial Advisor Cui and will be finished by Imperial Advisor Chen. As for whether it will end as a mere anticlimax, we'll have to wait and see."
Pei Jing's expression was complicated. He wasn't afraid his son would be kicked out of the Imperial Advisor's residence tomorrow, packing his bags and getting the hell out?
The man spoke, oblivious. "If cultivators flood into the secular officialdom in large numbers, it will soon leave mortal officials without a foothold. Within a few years, they will be utterly demoralized by the mountain cultivators. Once officialdom becomes mere sustenance for the mountain immortals' cultivation, the life and death, honor and disgrace of the common people will become trivial, until they have no weight at all. Hoping for officials to have more conscience is far more practical than expecting mountain immortals to possess a mortal heart. Imperial Advisor Cui took a very long view on this. Every person has a different face, every dao-field has its own dao aura, and every nation has its own national character. Where lies the national character of our Dali dynasty? First, in the iron cavalry's unstoppable southern campaign. Second, in our faithfulness in keeping the promise to return half a continent."
Pei Jing sensed some deeper meaning and his face instantly turned pale as snow. Was his father questioning a certain rumor from the upper echelons of the current Dali court? That Imperial Advisor Chen wanted to reunify Baoping Continent? What his father questioned was not just Imperial Advisor Chen, but even His Majesty himself? Exhausting the nation's resources for war, with grandiose ambitions?
The man said, "It's not as simplistic as you think."
Pei Jing felt utterly powerless.
The man added, "This entire operation by the Northern Office was overstepping boundaries from the start. It was improper and unjustifiable. The only reason it succeeded was that the Imperial Advisor's residence backed him. If Hong Ji blindly seeks credit, doesn't know when to stop, doesn't understand the principle of retiring at the right time, and makes enemies on all sides with no retreat, then the hardships to come—he may be able to bear them, but his son Hong Lin may not. Hong Ji will eventually retire to his hometown. How old is Hong Lin now? Master Guan of the Ministry of Personnel can protect him cleverly. Minister Shen Chen of the Ministry of War could protect him staunchly. But if it comes to Hong Ji protecting him himself... hmph, just wait. If a 'pawn exchange' happens in officialdom, Hong Ji won't be able to play the 'lone loyal minister' anymore."
Within the Ministry of Justice, a situation had clearly emerged of "a powerful vice minister and a weak minister." Vice Minister Zhao Yao's guiding principle in handling cases was simple: when investigating a case now, you leave a mark with every blow. No letting bygones be bygones. No upper limit. He was utterly ruthless. He wanted every slap to draw blood.
Hmph, "Zhao of Justice, Hong of the Northern Office." Who would have thought Hong Ji could now be mentioned in the same breath as Zhao Yao?
Cao the Drunkard of the Ministry of Personnel, Xu Tong of the Ministry of War, and now the man from Wuwang City—a whole host of young faces among the capital's high officials.
The man swirled the wine in his cup, staring at the faint ripples. "When Imperial Advisor Cui took over Dali, it was a truly riddled mess. You young people have no idea what Dali was like a hundred years ago—how the court was besieged from within and without, and how the fate of the dynasty hung by a thread."
"You are lucky. You happened to be born into a Dali dynasty at the peak of its power. You were even able to see off the wild wasteland demons."
"Your descendants are even luckier. Dali is getting stronger and stronger. All you see and hear are good words about Dali."
"But it's easy for you to forget that it was under Cui Chan's leadership that the common people of the Song clan of Dali finally didn't have to go hungry. Then, they didn't have to be beaten. They weren't randomly bullied by neighboring states. They weren't controlled by the suzerain state. And then, they didn't even have to suffer being scolded. Now in Baoping Continent, who dares to call Dali 'barbarians' anymore?"
The man's expression was dark and gloomy. "I have no objections to Chen Ping'an. But I'm afraid he thinks he is different from Cui Chan in every way. And I'm even more afraid he thinks he is better than Cui Chan in every way."
The man tilted his head back and downed the fiery liquor in one gulp.
There was a saying he couldn't say to a young man like Pei Jing, and even if he did, it would probably be useless. The real thing Pei Mao was most afraid of was the possibility that a young man accustomed to doing extraordinary things had simply run out of patience for this mortal world.