Mijing said that he needed to review the Buddhist scriptures before sending them to Xiao Rong, and Xiao Rong naturally had no objections. He then leisurely returned to his residence.

 

…

 

Sitting in a chair, Xiao Rong relaxed his posture. He rested one hand on his head and began mentally reviewing his plans.

In front of Gao Xunzhī, he had said he would use the name of the God of Culture, Wen Chang Dijun, to promote the library, while in front of Mijing, he had mentioned printing the Buddhist scriptures first and using the Buddha’s name to make it easier for people to accept the idea.

He certainly didn’t want to offend the followers of either side. On the contrary, he intended to win the favor of both.

To the outside world, he would say that the idea to build the library came to him in a dream from Wen Chang Dijun, and that the printing of the Buddhist scriptures was a benefit he had secured for the Buddhist sect through Mijing’s efforts.

 

…

 

This way, the emergence of printing wouldn’t be too conspicuous. The rivalry between Buddhism and Daoism would become even more heated. After all, since the day these two religions first encountered each other, neither side had ever been willing to yield. This wasn’t the later period when Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism were unified. In this time, monks and Daoists were like top salespeople fighting for customers. When they met, both openly and secretly launched attacks, slandering each other behind their backs, and never admitting it when caught.

All scriptures were handwritten copies, so their circulation was limited, and many people couldn’t afford them. As a result, they had to go to Buddhist temples or Daoist temples to listen to the scriptures being read aloud by the monks or priests. The monks and Daoists should have been the most anxious about this situation, but they had no solutions. Monks had their novices copying scriptures every day, but still couldn’t meet the demand. Daoists were compiling new Daoist texts every day, but lacked enough reference materials.

When Xiao Rong printed the Buddhist scriptures, Gao Xunzhī would certainly respond by contributing more Daoist scriptures. When monks and Daoists from other places heard about this, they would come to check it out with a tentative attitude. However, when they arrived, they would find that not only had their own people come, but also their rivals. The scene would certainly be very lively.

With this situation in mind, Xiao Rong could print more scriptures and distribute them for free. The aristocratic families were responsible for literature but didn’t care about these scriptures. By the time they realized they had been caught in the “boiling frog” situation, the bookstore would likely be in full operation.

However, these were just the superficial benefits.

The real and absolutely secret benefit was that Xiao Rong wanted both religions to rely on him, to develop within the limits he set, and to keep each other in check so that neither could dominate the other.

Xiao Rong wasn’t an atheist nor a theist. He maintained an open mind and was willing to accept all different viewpoints. The phrase he truly believed in was “existence is rational.” Even if something seemed useless to humans, it might be a life-saving resource for other species.

Both Buddhism and Daoism couldn’t be banned. They had developed for so many years, and their theories were already well-established. Forcing a ban would only make the people follow them secretly, and they could never truly disappear. Furthermore, such a ban would provoke the people’s resentment, and the importance of public sentiment didn’t need to be explained.

Since banning wasn’t an option, he would let both religions develop well. This could be seen as part of cultural heritage, after all. Nowadays, there were no entertainment activities, and burning incense or participating in festivals had become the most popular leisure activity for the people.

Therefore, despite Xiao Rong’s focus on the Buddha’s son and his determination to invite him, no one knew that Xiao Rong not only planned to invite the Buddha’s son, but he also intended to invite Daoists. The Buddhist sect only needed one Buddha’s son, whose reputation was worth more than a hundred famous Daoists. As for Daoism, Xiao Rong didn’t plan to invite any famous figures. Instead, he intended to lead Daoism down a different path.

A path that was grounded, with low short-term returns but long-term returns that could last for a thousand years.

Well…

Although he wanted to be objective toward both religions, Daoism was indigenous, so Xiao Rong couldn’t help but give them some preferential treatment.

 

….

 

It wasn’t urgent anymore. Recently, the phrase Xiao Rong said the most was: “We’ll deal with things later,” as the preparations were almost complete. The next step was to wait for the subordinates to gradually finish the tasks he had assigned, and during this process, he could leave for a while without worry.

He put down his hand, which had been resting on his chin, and absentmindedly tapped the table a few times like playing a piano. Xiao Rong slightly squinted and then suddenly stood up.

After living in the royal residence for so long, Xiao Rong finally went to the kitchen for the first time, stunning the chefs so much that they dropped the green onions in their hands.

 

…

 

Looking at the group of kitchen staff, all of whom were older men, Xiao Rong felt quite complicated.

At this point, the Northern Army was still truly a “bachelor army,” with not even one female cook. How pitiful was that?

 

…

 

Qu Yunmie sat in his study, seemingly staring at a document on the desk, but in reality, he had been lost in thought for quite some time.

 

…

 

He was counting how long it had been since he last used a weapon to kill someone.

The last time he had taken a life with his Snow-Drinking Spear seemed to have been when that bastard Li Xiuheng killed someone, and that was two months ago.

Qu Yunmie didn’t know what the highest record was, but this was the longest “dry spell” he had ever had since commanding troops.

He felt empty, lonely, and longed to feel the warmth of another’s blood.

His eyes gradually grew distant as he pondered whether he should go out hunting. In fact, he had never been fond of hunting mountain game. Hunting was usually done with a bow and arrow, but he preferred close combat with real swords and knives.

He regretted not dealing with the nearby small fry, the mountain bandits and robbers, when he first arrived in Chenliu. Xiao Rong always wanted him to spare the lives of captives, but this time he said nothing because these people were utterly vile, killing innocent travelers and enjoying torturing them in the mountains. However, if they had some guards with them, they wouldn’t dare act, as they were more cowardly than anyone else.

These weaklings, who only picked on the helpless and were covered in blood, were even worse than the foreign tribes. Xiao Rong found them so repulsive that he wouldn’t even want them as laborers.

At the time, Qu Yunmie had been too busy, so he handed the task to Gongsun Yuan, but the initial rush of work was over. The army was now idle, and as the King of the North, he was also idle. Most of the city’s affairs were handled by Xiao Rong, and if he couldn’t manage, he handed them over to Gao Xunzhi and Yu Shaoxie for help. They never came looking for him.

He thought to himself, ‘I should have gone myself. Gongsun Yuan is good at defensive battles and quiet tactics, but he’s not good at small-scale pursuit battles. I heard that because he was unfamiliar with the terrain, he let a group of bandit leaders escape twice. If I had gone, I would have split the leader into pieces on the first try.’

Qu Yunmie was torn between going out to hunt a bear that was in heat or going farther to bring Gongsun Yuan back. Suddenly, he heard two gentle knocks on the door.

The only person who would knock at the door in the royal residence was Xiao Rong. Others would simply push the door open, and after Xiao Rong had lost his temper once, everyone learned to call from outside.

 

…

 

He froze for a moment because it seemed that Xiao Rong had never been to his study. Qu Yunmie instinctively stood up and looked around the room.

Luckily, the study was arranged according to the layout left by the previous Chenliu governor. There was a display case on one side and several scrolls of books on the bookshelf in the back, meant to look impressive.

Even though Qu Yunmie had never even looked at them.

Seeing that there was no problem, Qu Yunmie quickly walked over and opened the door.

He had taken some time, so Xiao Rong had assumed no one had heard, and was raising his hand to knock again when the door suddenly opened.

Xiao Rong looked at Qu Yunmie in surprise, then smiled. “If the King had just said ‘come in,’ I would have opened the door. Why bother having the King open it personally?”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

That seemed to be true.

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time and had just acted. Admitting his mistake now would only be embarrassing.

So, after a brief pause, he casually said, “The weak knocking sound could only be you. I wouldn’t open the door for anyone else, but if I let you push it yourself, I’m afraid the door wouldn’t open, and you’d end up falling.”

Xiao Rong: “…”

His smile froze, but Qu Yunmie didn’t notice. Instead, he curiously looked at the food box in Xiao Rong’s hand and asked, “What’s this?”

Xiao Rong wanted to reply, Pig food.

Instead, he took a moment to compose himself, refrained and smiled brightly, saying, “It’s food I prepared for the King.”

Qu Yunmie’s expression shifted slightly. He looked at Xiao Rong in surprise. “You made this yourself?”

Xiao Rong nodded.

Qu Yunmie extended his hand, and Xiao Rong handed him the food box. As he walked a few steps forward, Qu Yunmie, without hesitation, closed the door behind him.

The food box felt normal in Xiao Rong’s hands, but when it was in Qu Yunmie’s, it seemed like a miniature version. Xiao Rong quietly thought to himself that perhaps he hadn’t made enough food.

Meanwhile, Qu Yunmie was still examining the reddish-brown food box. He didn’t open it immediately, but instead, looked up and asked, “Don’t they say that gentlemen avoid the kitchen?”

Xiao Rong smiled. “Do I look like a gentleman to you?”

Qu Yunmie glanced at him, then quickly averted his gaze.

He didn’t answer, but in his heart, he thought that although Xiao Rong didn’t seem like a gentleman, he was the only one who had ever felt like one.

Luckily, Xiao Rong didn’t mind his occasional silence. For others, silence might carry various meanings, but the King had a simple mind—his silence was simply silence, with no need for overthinking.

Qu Yunmie swept everything off his desk, then opened the food box. While he did this, Xiao Rong casually picked up one of the books and started flipping through it.

This was a military manual.

Xiao Rong didn’t look at the content; he only observed the binding and structure of the book. There was no objection—it was also a handwritten copy, but the size was much larger than the books Xiao Rong was used to holding. This type of book couldn’t be held with one hand; it had to be laid open on the table or held with both hands.

It was somewhat like a ledger.

Xiao Rong, holding the book, asked Qu Yunmie, “Has the King ever read this?”

Qu Yunmie had just opened the food box and, upon hearing the question, glanced at the book’s cover before lowering his head again. “I read it once when I was given the book seven years ago.”

Xiao Rong raised an eyebrow. Qu Yunmie had an excellent memory, he could always recall the exact year and what had happened. People like him were usually very smart, and reading books should have been more efficient for them. However, Qu Yunmie was naturally more interested in weapons than books. He had the talent but didn’t use it, so he didn’t make much progress.

Of course, a good memory was also known as holding grudges. Xiao Rong had noticed that whenever they argued, Qu Yunmie would bring up the time he had insulted him, and every time he mentioned it, he used a different idiom. Xiao Rong had a feeling that Qu Yunmie would keep repeating it endlessly.

 

…

 

After putting the book back, Xiao Rong returned to stand in front of Qu Yunmie, who was frowning at the golden-colored food in front of him.

Hearing Xiao Rong approach, he asked curiously, “What dish is this?”

Xiao Rong crisply answered, “A fried platter.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

The platter contained fried chicken cutlets, fried chicken wings, fried ribs, and fried lotus root cakes.

As for potato chips, forget about it. There were no potatoes in this time period; the source was too far away, and Xiao Rong knew he would never taste the deliciousness of potatoes again in his lifetime.

Although potatoes were out of the question, there were still many delicious foods that Xiao Rong had never tasted, so it somewhat balanced out. To make this fried platter, Xiao Rong had poured all the oil that the kitchen had planned to use for the next week into the pot, which made the chefs wince in pain. Whose cooking was this wasteful?

Regardless, the results turned out well. Although animal fat was used and the marinade lacked many of the ingredients Xiao Rong loved, some ingredients were naturally exceptional. At least the chickens they could buy now were the authentic free-range mountain chickens that they would never be able to eat again in the future.

 

…

 

High-carb, high-fat food was beloved by all humans, especially men like Qu Yunmie, who were carnivorous and couldn’t live without meat. He had the guards bring two pairs of chopsticks over, then sat in the study with Xiao Rong and started eating.

Xiao Rong didn’t eat. He naturally disliked greasy food and simply held his chopsticks, watching Qu Yunmie eat.

Qu Yunmie first picked up a piece of chicken wing, the shape he was most familiar with. After biting into it, the tender white meat, steaming and dripping with oil, immediately appeared, and the aroma became stronger than before.

For the first time in his life, Qu Yunmie tasted what fried food was. He paused, then set down his chopsticks and ordered the outer guards to bring him two jars of wine.

Xiao Rong laughed at the sight, setting down his chopsticks as well. He propped his chin up and leaned closer to Qu Yunmie, whispering, “Does the King like this?”

Qu Yunmie nodded, trying to maintain his composure. “I didn’t expect that you even researched food.”

Xiao Rong smiled. “I didn’t invent this. This is a method created by people from other lands. Though it’s rich and delicious, it’s too greasy and shouldn’t be eaten too often. I only make it occasionally as a reward for myself.”

Qu Yunmie looked up. “Reward?”

Xiao Rong pointed to himself. “Yes, a reward for me.”

Qu Yunmie raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And for the King, what is it?”

Xiao Rong smiled. “It’s a ‘thank you’. The Buddhist monk told me that the King personally went to seek peace and cleared up misunderstandings with him. I am truly pleased.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

Though Qu Yunmie knew this couldn’t be kept secret for long, he didn’t expect it to leak so quickly. In an instant, his opinion of the Buddhist monk dropped a little.

 

…

 

It was something he had done himself, and he had thought it through carefully. Although he still believed that Mijing didn’t care about Xiao Rong’s life or death, Xiao Rong was right. Mijing was useful to the Northern Army, and Mijing was just a monk. Though he always stayed close to people, he had no real power, so Qu Yunmie shouldn’t have let his words provoke such anger.

Besides, Xiao Rong was determined to go to Jinling, and Qu Yunmie suddenly understood what it meant to have more friends and more paths. In his deep infiltration of the enemy camp, he and the army of hundreds of thousands were powerless. Yet someone like Mijing, who had only fame and no real power, could send a letter and sway the scholars in Jinling to turn against him and protect Xiao Rong.

However, realizing all this didn’t mean Qu Yunmie felt any goodwill toward Mijing. He had gone to Mijing reluctantly and was very unwilling for others to know about it. He felt that if others found out, it would tarnish his masculinity.

 

…

 

Qu Yunmie lowered his gaze, silent. He knew what Xiao Rong was about to say, which was probably just more praise, like how Gao Xunzhi had praised him, calling him wise and virtuous and encouraging him to continue showing such grace to his subordinates.

What he didn’t expect was for Xiao Rong to change the topic. “The King shouldn’t do this in the future.”

Qu Yunmie: “???”

He looked up in surprise. Could it be that he had sought peace in the wrong way?

Seeing his confused expression, Xiao Rong suddenly thought this dazed look of his was somewhat cute. He couldn’t help but smile, then explained, “If there’s a dispute between the subordinates and the King seeks peace, it’s fine once or twice. But if done too much, it will make the subordinates have inappropriate thoughts and confuse their positions. The correct approach should be, from the start, not to engage in verbal disputes. After all, once a plate is broken, even if it’s glued back together, it will have cracks. This time, it’s fine because the Buddhist monk is different from others. For his ideals, as long as he gets what he wants, he can even swear loyalty to someone like Huang Yanjiu. So he won’t hold a grudge against the King for a harsh word.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

So, that bald monk didn’t stay because he trusted him but because he saw profit in staying, right?

He knew that monk didn’t have good intentions!

Qu Yunmie was a bit shocked because he hadn’t realized Mijing had such a character. He had thought Mijing was righteous, but now it made sense. No wonder Mijing never mentioned Xiao Rong’s safety. Perhaps to him, everyone was the same, with no distinction between closeness or distance.

As Qu Yunmie reformed his opinion of the Buddhist monk, Xiao Rong continued, “Actually, even without verbal disputes, problems will arise between people. In such cases, if the King has a disagreement with his subordinates, seeking peace is appropriate, but it shouldn’t be done in this way.”

Qu Yunmie furrowed his brow. “What way?”

Xiao Rong paused. He had wanted to say it more gently but couldn’t think of a more tactful way, so he just said directly, “This sneaky, secretive way, as if afraid of being discovered.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

A trace of embarrassment crossed his face. Xiao Rong chuckled. “Why not let others find out? If others don’t know, how will they know the King is so magnanimous? If no one knows, then doesn’t this peace-seeking become meaningless?”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

So, in your eyes, seeking peace is just a hollow act of fakery?

He couldn’t help but say, “But you just told me not to do this in the future.”

Xiao Rong nodded. “Yes, but I also said once or twice is fine. Let this one pass. Next time there’s an opportunity like this, the King should remember to do it in a public setting. Call the person up and say some kind words. Just remember, don’t apologize directly. The King can feel regret but shouldn’t formally apologize, because once the King does, it means he owes the person morally. Do you remember Huang Yanqin? A debt of gratitude is hard to repay.”

At this point, Xiao Rong leaned back. “As for the future, the King won’t need to step in anymore. If something similar happens, just let me or Chancellor Gao handle it. The King just needs to nod. The King, as the Northern King, shouldn’t personally handle such apologies.”

Qu Yunmie looked at him with a vague expression.

Xiao Rong tilted his head, thinking he didn’t agree with him.

Qu Yunmie pressed his lips together and repeated, “You mean, in the future, you’ll apologize on my behalf, no matter who it is?”

Xiao Rong sensed his tone wasn’t quite right but couldn’t figure out what he meant. He answered cautiously, “It’s just saying a few words. This is what I’m supposed to do as an advisor.”

Qu Yunmie: “…”

He suddenly stopped looking at Xiao Rong and picked up his chopsticks again, eating the snacks Xiao Rong had made for him.

Xiao Rong watched him rapidly devour the fried food, not enjoying it as much as before. If anything, it seemed like he was eating out of frustration.

After just a few more bites, suddenly, Qu Yunmie put down his chopsticks. He lowered his eyes and muttered, “I won’t do this again.”

Xiao Rong blinked and asked, “You won’t secretly seek peace anymore?”

Qu Yunmie: “There will be no more verbal disputes.”

That way, Xiao Rong wouldn’t have to humble himself for him anymore.

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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