Chen Jiancheng was the current leader of the Qingfeng Sect.

In the sixth year of Guangjia, when the Qingfeng Sect was still causing trouble in Changan, the Guangjia Emperor suddenly moved south. When the Huhar people heard the news, they were furious and abandoned their original plans, directly marching southward. At that time, the sect leader of the Qingfeng Sect was in Xiakou, deceiving a powerful local warlord. He was far from the other members of the sect, who were too busy fleeing to remember to inform him. By the time they remembered, he had already been killed by the Huhar people.

The situation was too chaotic then. They hastily gathered the former sect leader’s body and fled southward in panic. When they finally reached a safe place and looked around, they were surprised to discover that everyone had the same thought: no one but themselves was fit to become the next sect leader.

…

This internal conflict escalated quickly and absurdly, and was extremely secretive. Outsiders had no idea that the Qingfeng Sect had undergone a major purge. In hindsight, this was actually understandable. Although the Qingfeng Sect had followers all over the country, they were notorious for causing trouble wherever they went. If the elders, protectors, or even the sect leader himself showed up in an area, it was essentially a declaration that the sect had targeted that region.

Ordinary people didn’t fear them, but local powers couldn’t tolerate the threat. After many instances of being chased off upon showing their faces, the sect finally got smarter and stopped holding high-profile meetings. They would rent a courtyard and disguise themselves as ordinary people. If someone needed to appear publicly, only one person would go—two, at most, if it was extremely important.

In short, under strict secrecy known only to the inner circle, the Qingfeng Sect elected a new leader. This new leader claimed that he had inherited the former leader’s will in a dream and promised to lead the Qingfeng Sect to a brighter future.

This new leader was Chen Jiancheng. It had been nine years since he made that bold promise, but the Qingfeng Sect was still living like rats—every time they surfaced, they were beaten down.

…

During these nine years leading the Qingfeng Sect, Chen Jiancheng publicly presented himself as a sage—ethereal and mysterious, with a distant gaze as though always in communication with the gods. In private, however, he had over two hundred concubines, more than six hundred female slaves, and over three hundred male slaves. His “pleasure gardens” were spread across the Central Plains and even extended to Shanshan, the Xianbei, Goguryeo, and Maerdan beyond the Jinsha River.

Frankly, not even the young Emperor or Sun Renluan lived such a life.

Though Chen Jiancheng had lovers all over the world, many of them didn’t even know who he truly was. Some thought he was just a rich merchant or a young master traveling for fun. If anyone discovered his real identity, what happened next depended on whether he liked them. If he didn’t like them—he killed them. If he liked them even a little—he still killed them.

…

Chen Jiancheng had a strange personality, but being able to survive for nine years as the leader of the Qingfeng Sect—which was like being in a vat filled with venomous creatures—at least proved that he wasn’t stupid. If the sect had taught him anything, it was this: never sympathize with the innocent.

Innocent people weren’t necessarily smart, and people who weren’t smart often brought ruin upon themselves—and might drag him down with them.

Xiakou was one of Chen Jiancheng’s main strongholds. Therefore, the concubines he placed there held higher status than those elsewhere—some were noblewomen he had married, others were assassins and spies who had done his dirty work. These women knew who he really was, so he didn’t bother acting mysterious with them, and thus he preferred to stay there.

As for why he reacted so strongly to Xizhu’s death…

This brings us to an important point: Chen Jiancheng had a grand dream—he wanted to surpass all previous sect leaders of the Qingfeng Sect, overthrow the current regime, become the Emperor himself, and then bring all his scattered concubines into his palace. That’s why he kept them around even though he rarely visited—he was preparing in advance for his future imperial harem.

Chen Jiancheng was a perfect example of how some people have a terrible memory. The Qingfeng Sect had existed for over a hundred years, and countless leaders before him had shared the same ambition. They all failed. So why was he so confident that he would succeed?

Still, there was no point in asking—he simply believed he was special. He had something no other leader had. So he believed he would succeed.

…

Eight years ago, just a year after he became sect leader, he proactively approached a Qingfeng Sect affiliate—the Assassins’ League—and bought thirty young assassin trainees. Among them, Xizhu was the most talented. She was cold-blooded and emotionless by nature. She could kill a rabbit she had raised for a year without flinching. Chen Jiancheng had very high hopes for her. He didn’t allow her trainers to whip her for fear of leaving scars, and he provided her with the best food, clothes, and tools. Year after year, he raised her carefully.

Eventually, Yang Zangyi grew restless and wanted to cooperate with them. Killing Sun Renluan would be an event worthy of the history books, and Chen Jiancheng believed that this was it—Xizhu’s moment to shine.

She did appear… but her exit came just as swiftly. When Chen Jiancheng heard of her death, he was dumbfounded. Then his grief turned into rage.

First, his years of effort were wasted. Second, his plans were disrupted. Third, with her gone, he no longer had the “Meilan Zhuju” quartet complete—he was one consort short.

(Meilan Zhuju -plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums . These four plants are collectively known as the “Four Gentlemen” or “Four Noble Ones” in Chinese culture, each symbolizing different virtues and representing ideals of the literati. They are frequently depicted in Chinese art and poetry, embodying qualities like resilience, elegance, purity, and steadfastness.)

…

So when Chen Jiancheng swore that Xiao Rong would pay with his life, he wasn’t joking. He truly wanted to kill the man who had inexplicably destroyed his plan and forced him to recalculate everything. No matter what, he had to find out whether this man was just extremely lucky—or whether he had actually seen through Xizhu’s disguise.

If it was the former, Chen Jiancheng hated lucky fools the most—they had to die. If it was the latter, then someone that perceptive couldn’t be left alive either—he still had to die!

…

Despite all this, when he met with Zhou Liang, he didn’t mention Xiao Rong at all. As soon as he saw Zhou Liang, he resumed his persona as the ethereal sect leader. Zhou Liang had already started to resent him after being ignored for days, and now Chen Jiancheng used evasive tactics to probe him indirectly. Zhou Liang sat there, silently adding scores to his mental list of grievances.

Zhou Liang was extremely cunning—but Chen Jiancheng had seen too much of the world. In the Qingfeng Sect, there were no good people.

He didn’t care about Zhou Liang’s character. Even if he knew Zhou Liang bore grudges, he only smiled faintly and continued manipulating him. There was a core belief in the Qingfeng Sect: As long as someone was alive, they were a tool to be used—whether good or bad didn’t matter. The Qingfeng Sect had never lost a “black eats black” battle.

＊

After three days of verbal fencing, Chen Jiancheng finally concluded: Zhou Liang was a talent, and his resentment toward Xiao Rong might be useful.

While the two began plotting against Xiao Rong, Xiao Rong was still struggling for survival in Chenliu.

…

Recently, Xiao Rong had sent envoys to all regional governors north of the Han River, asking them to imitate Chenliu and publicly display the decrees he issued. By now, even the farthest commandery—Dunhuang—should have received the orders, so Xiao Rong sent another wave of people to check whether the officials had complied.

Logically, even if the literary campaign had ended, there still weren’t enough loyal scholars to fill all northern positions. If he tried to replace everyone, those willing to cooperate might flee in fear of betrayal, and those dismissed might go to extremes and start rebellions.

At this critical moment, Xiao Rong couldn’t afford chaos north of the Han River, so he used this decree to test the waters and send a message: no matter what they had done before, if they were willing to obey him and the King of the North, he would turn a blind eye and let them stay in power.

Real accountability would wait until the country was stabilized. Corrupt as these officials were, many still served as pillars for the Northern Army. If they behaved, things would go smoothly. If not, one wrong move could cause a chain reaction.

Xiao Rong thought he was being merciful, but when the messengers returned with reports from various cities, they found less than half had obeyed his orders.

Xiao Rong: “…”

The result was a huge blow. Gao Xunzhi, seeing his silence, sighed and said, “I expected this. The North appears calm, but every city operates independently. They pledged loyalty to the King, but won’t let him interfere. Don’t take it too hard, little Rong.”

Next to him, Song Shuo glanced at the report and suddenly said, “Aren’t you being too soft? In times of chaos, you need heavy-handed tactics. If you don’t make an example of someone, who will obey you? If this order came from the King himself, I bet more would’ve complied.”

Gao Xunzhi: “…”

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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