Xiao Rong’s strike only lasted for one afternoon, and because he took a nap at dusk, he became even more energetic after nightfall. This made things hard for the Buddhist disciple—on the night before a campaign, being unable to sleep was an exception; most of the time, his routine had been very regular. This was a habit he had formed back when he was still a novice monk.

Stifling a small yawn, Mijing forced his eyes open and continued to accompany the gentleman, risking his own well-being.

…

Time rewound to midday of the same day.

In a civilian residence in Xiakou, Chen Jiancheng finally stopped dodging the issue. He chatted and laughed with Zhou Liang, even promoted the ideals of their Qingfeng Sect to him: purging those who carried impure energy to restore clarity and peace to the world.

Zhou Liang listened with a polite smile, nodding from time to time. In truth, he thought, ‘We’re both old foxes—what’s the point of telling ghost stories? If there really were such a thing as pure and impure energy in this world, your Qingfeng Sect should be the first to be eradicated.’

…

Just like Chen Jiancheng didn’t think much of Zhou Liang, Zhou Liang didn’t think much of Chen Jiancheng, the leader of the Qingfeng Sect, either.

In official history, after Zhou Liang left Huang Yanjiong, he quickly joined He Tingzhi’s camp. He Tingzhi had three thousand retainers and accepted all who came to him. Zhou Liang admired this trait greatly. Whether or not He Tingzhi himself was truly that open-minded, he at least showed such an attitude, and that was what the world cared about.

So when Zhou Liang fled this time, his first instinct was also to look for He Tingzhi. If it worked out, he would stay, if not, he would leave again.

Unfortunately, he was rather unlucky. First of all, his defection this time hadn’t been as smooth as in the official history. He had killed one of Huang Yanjiong’s men before fleeing. For some reason, the Northern King—who had nothing to do with him—had someone draw his portrait and post it all around Chenliu and nearby towns, forcing him to run and hide for quite a while before the situation cooled down.

Later, when he finally returned to Nanyong, he had originally planned to head to Dongyang immediately. However, before he even reached Dongyang—only getting as far as Xuancheng—he heard that the King of Dongyang had already left, personally leading troops to respond to the call of the Northern King.

Zhou Liang: “…”

Bootlicker!

Anyone with sense could see that this trip by the King of Dongyang would take at least six months. If Zhou Liang went to Dongyang to wait for him, he’d have to prepare for a long-term battle and hope that the King didn’t die in battle against the Xianbei.

In such volatile times, even two months could change the entire political landscape, and Zhou Liang didn’t know He Tingzhi was his destined wise ruler. To him at that moment, his time was the most valuable.

Since Dongyang was no longer an option, he decided to look for someone else. As a scholar—even though Zhou Liang was petty—he still had some connections. Besides, “fish find fish, shrimp find shrimp, and turtles find their own kind.” The friends who truly got along with Zhou Liang were no saints either.

Based on a friend’s recommendation, Zhou Liang learned that the leader of the Qingfeng Sect was also recruiting advisers, so after some deliberation, he decided to check it out.

The Qingfeng Sect had vast wealth and intricate networks, making them hard to deal with for the average person. They also had clear weaknesses. First, they weren’t favored by most factions, second, they lacked a professional army, and third, their greatest strength and weakness was their ideology. They rose through the zeal of fanatical followers, but such followers weren’t entirely obedient. Once they sensed selfish intent from the leader, the backlash could be more terrifying than an invading army.

Of course, that was Zhou Liang’s thinking before he met Chen Jiancheng. After meeting him, Zhou Liang added a fourth weakness in his mind: the leader was selfish and clueless. How the Qingfeng Sect hadn’t collapsed under such a person’s leadership was truly baffling.

Chen Jiancheng was testing Zhou Liang, and Zhou Liang was testing Chen Jiancheng. To be honest, the two were about equal, but if one had to win, Zhou Liang had the edge.

Because no matter how much Chen Jiancheng tried to glorify himself, at the end of the day, he was just a conman. He desperately wanted to be a ruler, but unfortunately, he wasn’t even as capable as Huang Yanjiong in that regard.

Meanwhile, Zhou Liang was a born politician. For all his character flaws, his capability was undeniable.

After several days of conversation with Chen Jiancheng, Zhou Liang even had a strange idea—that he could replace Chen Jiancheng or make him a puppet, turning all of the Qingfeng Sect’s assets into his own.

So, the two of them got along better and better, each thinking they could use the other. On this day, Chen Jiancheng finally laid his cards on the table. He smiled mysteriously at Zhou Liang and said he knew what had happened to him in Chenliu City. He also knew about Zhou Liang’s hatred for Xiao Rong, and he was willing to help eliminate him. If Zhou Liang could successfully get rid of Xiao Rong with his help, it would be considered a contribution to the world’s clarity, and also his military pledge to the Qingfeng Sect. He wouldn’t have to start from the bottom, but would directly become one of the sect’s guardians.

The number of guardians around Chen Jiancheng varied—sometimes a few, sometimes more than ten—it all depended on his mood.

He thought his olive branch was generous enough, but after Zhou Liang heard him out, he mentally added another mark to his grudge list.

‘That is the most humiliating moment of my life—and you know about it?! You bastard, just die! When I take power, I’ll kill everyone who knows about this!’

…

Still, he didn’t reject the idea. The more he wanted to gain trust, the more he needed to accomplish something big. Killing Xiao Rong would be the perfect demonstration of his ability, and he appreciated the Qingfeng Sect’s low-profile methods. At least this way, the Northern King wouldn’t know who was behind Xiao Rong’s death.

Zhou Liang had already begun to carefully plan Xiao Rong’s assassination, even building a framework for the plan, when a Qingfeng Sect follower came in with a letter for Chen Jiancheng.

Chen Jiancheng glanced at it, and his expression changed slightly. A moment later, he burned the letter in front of Zhou Liang and smiled again. “You may not know this, sir, but there has been a change in the situation outside. What we discussed may have to be postponed.”

At that point, Zhou Liang felt okay with the news. After all, such was the game of power—one had to adjust constantly to the times. What unsettled him was what Chen Jiancheng said next. “In the grand scheme of things, that Xiao boy is no more than a harmless louse. The true scourge of the land is the Northern King himself.”

“The world has long suffered under the Northern King. I wonder, sir, do you have any plan that might help remove him for the greater good?”

Zhou Liang stared at him silently, and only after a long while did he realize—Chen Jiancheng wasn’t joking.

“…”

Are you actually serious?!

＊

Back to tonight.

While Xiao Rong and the Buddhist disciple were working late into the night in Chenliu, Qu Yunmie also hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

The army had already gathered beneath Yanmen Mountain, and tomorrow they would set off for Shengle.

His lifelong dream was finally about to be realized. Most people at this moment would be too excited to sleep, but Qu Yunmie wasn’t like most people. He wasn’t excited—he was in so much pain he couldn’t sleep.

He had nothing left to write.

He really had nothing more to put on paper…

Staring painfully at the blank letter, everything he could write, he had already written in the past few days. Tonight, he had truly been squeezed dry.

After sitting motionless for half an hour, Qu Yunmie decided to stop torturing himself and went out to seek help.

…

He had intended to look for Yu Shaoxie, since that man was the only cultured person in the army whom he trusted. However, before finding Yu Shaoxie, he noticed a light still on in Jian Qiao’s room. Curious, he pushed the door open and walked in.

Jian Qiao had been writing a secret letter to Xiao Rong, full of criticisms about Yuan Baifu. Qu Yunmie’s sudden entrance startled him. He turned around and glared, “How dare you enter this General’s room without knocking?!”

Qu Yunmie kicked his chair—holding back his strength so that Jian Qiao only wobbled and didn’t fall.

“How dare you! Calling yourself a General in front of this King!?”

Jian Qiao: “…”

His momentum instantly vanished. He stood up obediently and, while tidying his desk, slipped the secret letter underneath the rest of the paper.

As expected, Qu Yunmie didn’t notice the sleight of hand, but since he saw Jian Qiao writing something when he entered, he asked, “What are you writing?”

Jian Qiao quickly pulled out another letter and said, “A letter to my wife. I promised her I’d write once every half-month to let her know I’m safe.”

Qu Yunmie scoffed. “Only once every half-month?”

If someone truly cared about you, they wouldn’t ask for one letter every two weeks—they’d want one every day!

Jian Qiao: “…”

He understood the hidden meaning, but he wanted to say: Half a month is already very considerate—not everyone is like you, Your Majesty, building post stations with hundreds of people just to send a letter!

Being able to stay by Qu Yunmie’s side for so many years without major conflict wasn’t because of childhood friendship—it was because of Jian Qiao’s admirable habit of never arguing.

…

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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