As the lanterns lit up, the bustle of Baibao Street not only did not diminish but intensified. Even foreign merchants with thick beards and sheepskin coats came out to enjoy themselves. During the day, they negotiated business, at night, they indulged freely. Because of their presence, many shops began to go out of their way to please them. For example, by learning their cuisines, imitating their native decorations, and even hiring foreign attendants, all with the goal of making guests feel at home.

Once one shop joined the competition, every shop had to follow. When one side hired foreign attendants, another would hire foreign wine attendants. Seeing two businesses thrive like this, yet another gritted its teeth and simply sent people to the Western Regions to invite a Western chef back.

This not only pleased the foreign merchants but also gave the people of Chenliu something new and interesting to see. Compared to southern foreigners, the culinary habits of Western Region foreigners were more acceptable to the people of the Central Plains. After all, southern foreign cuisine was too mixed and chaotic, and it was difficult for people to accept in a short time.

Food was an effective way to promote relations between both sides, so cooperation was often completed at the dining table. Cultural dissemination was also an effective way to eliminate barriers. In the future, when people mentioned a country, their first reaction would no longer be that its people came out as mercenaries, but that its food was delicious and its merchants were honest.

Changes in perception were subtle and gradual. Once the people of the Central Plains accepted foreigners, those foreigners would live more easily here. In today’s world, life for Central Plains people was already difficult, but for foreigners it was even harder. People naturally sought advantage and avoided harm. In the past, when the Central Plains did not accept them, they had to come out to find a way to survive. Now that the Central Plains accepted them, those timid and weak foreigners should be able to take a brave step forward.

Xiao Rong wasn’t trying to create a scene of “all nations paying tribute.” He only wanted to plant a concept in these foreigners’ minds: if they could not survive, they could come to the Central Plains to work, they could even join the Central Plains if they wanted. In short, they should stop raiding and plundering in the south.

Geography ensured that history repeated itself. As long as a small neighboring state rose up, its ultimate goal would always be to occupy the Central Plains. With Qu Yunmie present, the power gap was huge, and the one to be destroyed would be the other side. Even so, Qu Yunmie would not always be there. The currently prosperous Baibao Street might one day turn into a sinful alley.

Xiao Rong could not control events that far away. He could only try his best to avoid such an outcome. As for how things would ultimately develop, it would depend on future generations.

It was truly difficult. The higher one stood, the farther one could see. Others took one step at a time, but Xiao Rong had to take one step while also looking a hundred steps ahead. Sometimes he felt tired and annoyed and didn’t understand why he had to bear such hardship. Yet when he saw different faces laughing in the lively lights and wine, and remembered that this place had once been nothing but wasteland, he no longer felt only exhaustion.

These were his achievements after all. No matter what happened in the future, at least now people were grateful to him.

……

Xiao Rong’s eyes moved slightly. The arched bridge he stood on had been newly built not long ago, and the stones still showed traces of polishing. Snow still piled up in lumps on the bridge railings. The wind blew his cloak, and the edge of the cloak was dusted with a bit of snow.

The cloak carried Xiao Rong’s body heat. If left alone, the snow would melt in a moment and his cloak would become wet.

So Qu Yunmie reached out first, brushing the snow off Xiao Rong’s cloak. Then he raised his merciless iron hand and slapped the railing. With one strike, at least three sections of the railing were left bare and “bald.”

Xiao Rong: “…”

He couldn’t help but look at Qu Yunmie.

From the same scenery, Xiao Rong could see the fruits of his labor. The helplessness of transformation, and even a kind of philosophical reflection about history repeating itself year after year, but Qu Yunmie could not grasp any of that. At most, he could only see that there were many people on the street, it was noisy, it was annoying, and it was already dark. Didn’t these people need to sleep?

……

Although he found it annoying, he did not move, because Xiao Rong was still there. Before safely sending him back to the prince’s residence, Qu Yunmie would never leave him farther than the distance of a forearm.

Xiao Rong felt it was very strange.

Even though Qu Yunmie did not even understand the meaning behind building this street, in a sense, this street was the result of both of their efforts. Xiao Rong handled internal affairs, while Qu Yunmie handled external affairs. One worked tirelessly on development, while the other sat like a stabilizing pillar in the city, deterring troublemakers.

In the night, Xiao Rong chuckled softly. Qu Yunmie’s ears twitched. Just as he looked over, Xiao Rong raised his head and asked very seriously, “Qu Yunmie, do you believe in destiny?”

Qu Yunmie: “?”

His face was full of confusion. After leaving the restaurant, it had been Xiao Rong who suggested coming here to see the night scenery. So how had watching the scenery turned into such a profound question?

After a moment of silence, Qu Yunmie gave him some respect and thought carefully before finally reaching a conclusion. “I don’t believe in it.”

Xiao Rong was stunned.

He truly had not expected this answer. “You don’t believe in it? You, I… no, not at all??”

He wanted to say many things, but when it came to his mouth, he didn’t know how to express them. Strength was indeed the foundation of success, but one had to admit that among so many people in the world, only Qu Yunmie had reached the edge of the throne of supreme power. There had to be some luck involved.

As well as himself—he, a modern man, had experienced such an absurd journey to arrive here, and even had a broken system forcing him to help Qu Yunmie. If this wasn’t destiny, then what was?

Xiao Rong’s shock was too obvious. Qu Yunmie frowned slightly, then explained slowly. “Destiny means something that was not originally yours, but heaven pitied you and gave it to you. I don’t think anything in my hands was given through charity. I fought desperately to seize everything and only then did I get them all.”

As he listened, Xiao Rong felt something strange in his heart. He buried half his face into his cloak, the thick fabric muffling his voice. “Then what about me?”

Was I also something you seized?

….

Xiao Rong’s eyes looked upward. The cold air made everything even more distinct. As a result, to Qu Yunmie, Xiao Rong’s eyes seemed even more crystalline and translucent than before.

Being stared at by those eyes, Qu Yunmie opened his mouth and replied, “You are not.”

He paused, then added, “You dragged yourself to my side with your life on the line. That cannot be called fate. For you and me to end up together, the first ninety steps were your achievement, and only the last ten steps were my effort.”

Xiao Rong fell silent.

What Qu Yunmie said did seem to make sense. That broken system had only functioned like a ticket, everything afterward had been accomplished by him and everyone else together. The words “destined by fate” sounded mysterious and romantic, but in reality they erased all their effort. Even if their meeting had been destined, all the ups and downs afterward—the joys, anger, sorrows, and happiness—were still things they had personally experienced and decided for themselves.

At that thought, a sense of accomplishment rose naturally in Xiao Rong’s heart, but soon after, he suppressed the corners of his mouth that had lifted slightly. He pulled his chin out from the warm cloak, leaned against the railing, rested his head on his hand, and tilted his head to look at Qu Yunmie. “Don’t talk nonsense. I haven’t ended up with you yet, and we haven’t even completed all one hundred steps. This is only the ninetieth step. As they say, ‘the last part of a hundred-mile journey is half the journey.’ If anything goes wrong at this critical moment, I really would be sick with regret.”

It was fortunate that Qu Yunmie did not know the phrase “dumping someone after using them,” otherwise he would definitely have said it to Xiao Rong’s face.

However, Qu Yunmie felt fine about it. He did not feel frustrated or depressed, because he had long understood one principle: Xiao Rong never told the truth. Even when he believed he was telling the truth, it might not actually be true. So if one wanted to understand Xiao Rong’s heart, one should not listen to what he said, but look at what he did.

Hmm… thinking of what Xiao Rong had just done, Qu Yunmie curled his lips slightly.

Xiao Rong: “…”

That expression made his hair stand on end. Qu Yunmie flattened his mouth again and said, “Nothing will go wrong. Even if something does happen, I will handle it. Just don’t get kidnapped again.”

Xiao Rong’s face fell. “That wasn’t because I wanted to be kidnapped! There are too many villains in this world. What does it have to do with me?”

Xiao Rong had been kidnapped twice in total—the first time because the palace was full of holes like a sieve, and the second time because they were unfamiliar with a strange city and Yuan Baifu had the advantage.

Although he understood these reasons, he still became increasingly irritated at being kidnapped. If it happened again, he would go dark on his own without needing Qu Yunmie to do anything.

Qu Yunmie watched as he subconsciously stamped his feet twice. His arms were crossed, his brows tightly furrowed, and he looked extremely irritated.

Qu Yunmie said nothing. In any case, he had his own plan. No one would ever again be allowed to put Xiao Rong in danger.

……

Xiao Rong took the opportunity of Yu Shaoxie’s return to skip work with complete peace of mind. At this moment, Yu Shaoxie had not yet realized the seriousness of the situation. After learning that Xiao Rong had truly gone out to play with the King for an entire night, he felt it was inappropriate, but did not say much.

The next day, they held an urgent meeting for the entire morning and finally discussed how to deal with the influx of refugees.

They would provide porridge, and allow them to enter the city, but would not let them go further north. They were only permitted to remain in Runan City.

The pressure on Runan increased sharply. The newly appointed prefect sent three letters a day requesting funds. The person in charge of the money was now Xiao Rong, and after giving funds twice, he could no longer stand it. Everything was about expenses, when would it ever end? This was before the new year, people were already struggling to survive on dwindling supplies, and the government even had to distribute heating subsidies because there was not enough firewood to collect.

Despite this, people were still freezing and starving to death outside the city every day. Xiao Rong could not bring himself to refuse funding, so he wiped his face and immediately summoned all the so-called “divine practitioners” in the city.

He wanted them to perform divination to find the most auspicious piece of land. He would then enclose it and force all the refugees there to cut wood and quarry stone. No more asking for money—they would all go work!

……

Divination was a core skill of Daoist priests. Hearing that the government intended to find a geomantically auspicious site, the famous Daoists in the city became excited. With them present, the wandering priests and lesser practitioners would have no chance at all. Several temples even banded together to push others out.

After receiving the Daoists’ invitations, Xiao Rong realized that he didn’t know when the number of Daoists in Chenliu City had multiplied so dramatically. Each one had an impressive background. This one from a certain mountain, that one a direct disciple of a famous temple, and some even claimed they had ascended to the heavens and saw Qu Yunmie’s name written there as the next chosen emperor by the gods.

Seeing this, Xiao Rong curled his lips. He was not displeased with the flattery—it was simply not flattering enough.

After reading a few more, another flatterer appeared, and Xiao Rong’s eyes lit up.

This man also claimed he had seen Qu Yunmie in heaven, but not as a candidate chosen by the gods. Instead, Qu Yunmie himself was a god, his true name was the Great Purple Star Emperor of Meritorious Virtue and Benevolence. He had descended to the mortal world to end suffering, and after death he would return to the heavens.

Good!

That was excellent! Xiao Rong thought while digging his toes into the ground in embarrassment and joy. This man really knew how to do things!

Satisfied, Xiao Rong selected a few who were eloquent and a few who had high public reputation. He gathered them for a small meeting, subtly pressured them on how to behave and take sides in the future, and promised them many benefits, including the establishment of a royal Daoist temple once Qu Yunmie became emperor, along with annual silver donations.

After all, since Qu Yunmie had already been elevated to a deity by them, the temple would definitely be built.

Earlier, when Xiao Rong had asked Daoists to contribute formulas and publicized their achievements across the north of the Han River, those who first provided them had already gained the title of “celestial masters.” Buddhism and Daoism originally started on similar footing. Both preached, collected donations, and occasionally did good deeds, but Buddhism’s rules were simpler and its promises larger and more alluring, so people tended to prefer it.

As for the afterlife, who could really verify it? Such teachings gave people comfort at the moment of death, and whether it was deception or not, it did provide psychological solace.

Daoism, on the other hand, did not deceive people, but most people could not accept its realism. If one could not become a sage in this life, then everything seemed meaningless. Unfortunately, mediocrity was the majority and not everyone could calmly accept that fact.

Xiao Rong helped promote Daoism, creating a gap between the two. Buddhism had no comparable innovations, while Daoist inventions genuinely improved people’s lives. Public favor toward Daoism increased, and some people even realized a truth: what is in one’s hands is what truly matters.

As people became more pragmatic, Daoist followers also increased. Now that they had taken on the task of surveying auspicious land, some who felt their divination skills were inferior cleverly changed paths and offered instead to help Xiao Rong deal with the Qingfeng Sect and expose their wrongdoing.

Seeing this group of Daoists, Xiao Rong laughed and immediately agreed.

After sending them off, however, he turned to Mijing and subtly hinted that since Daoists in the city were becoming more numerous and more high-profile, did Buddhism have no opinion? Also, about what he had previously mentioned—donating money to build orphanages and hospitals—how were they considering it?

Mijing: “…”

Xiao Rong looked at him expectantly.

Yes, Buddhism had no innovations, but they had money.

A government-protected Buddhist temple could collect enough incense money each year to support an entire village. Large temples like Zunshan Temple, where Mijing once stayed, could receive more than ten thousand taels annually, and even in the worst years, still receive several thousand.

This was not an exception. The so-called “four hundred and eighty temples” were only a conservative estimate—the real number was likely even higher.

Mijing was not an abbot, nor did he personally own any property. He had no disciples, no house, and lived entirely in the prince’s residence. The only things he could be considered to own were gifts from kings and queens, which he had already given to Xiao Rong to handle.

The most valuable thing about Mijing was never external possessions—it was himself.

As long as he spoke, countless people would rush to give him money. If he refused, they would be depressed for years.

……

The whole world treated the Buddha’s son with reverence, yet here was one person treating him like an ATM.

……

Yet the Buddha’s son accepted it without resistance. He even went to the largest temple in the city and spoke with its seventy-year-old abbot. He explained the current difficulties of Buddhism and the suffering of the people, saying this could save lives and also reclaim influence from Daoism.

Mijing spoke calmly and steadily, and the old abbot opposite him nodded like a student listening to a teacher. After sending Mijing off, the old man immediately raised his arm and shouted: “Brothers, go invite all the abbots from other temples!”

The Buddha’s son has given new instructions—we must act quickly!

*

Xiao Rong asked the Daoists to calculate an auspicious location because he intended to build a palace next year.

He did not personally believe in feng shui, but everyone at the time did, and one could not move a mountain with an egg. More importantly, he did not want to argue with them over such a minor issue—any location was fine as long as it was not too outrageous.

At this time, people were obsessed with comparison and display. Even commoners and aristocrats alike sought to show off, and even royal families were no exception.

Every new emperor who overthrew a dynasty had to build a palace larger than the previous one. The most absurd example was the Southern Yong, which, while fleeing south for survival, still built a palace in Jinling even grander than the one in Changan.

Xiao Rong could never understand what Emperor Guangjia was thinking. Did building a bigger palace make people respect you more? It made them respect you even less!

……

However, Emperor Guangjia himself probably did not feel ashamed, because he had not yet begun his flight when construction started. The surveying officials had already set out, and when he eventually fled, construction had only just begun. It took two years, flattened several mountains, exhausted countless laborers, and in the end he only lived there for about half a year before passing away.

Oh right, because the palace was not completed in time, he even had a smaller temporary palace built in advance. Since the young emperor was still too young, that palace remained empty, requiring constant maintenance. Every time Xiao Rong thought of these two money-devouring projects consuming Southern Yong’s wealth, he felt heartache.

That was not Southern Yong’s money—it was the future Northern Army’s money!

……

Sun Renluan did not know that Xiao Rong was already starting to feel heartache over their assets. These days, he barely rested, sleeping only two or three hours a day. His energy remained strong, but his clothes grew looser by the day.

He was doing everything he could to prolong Southern Yong’s survival, and even his political enemies no longer interfered with him. But not everyone was so compliant—there were always those who failed to understand the situation.

Sun Renluan ordered his subordinates to purchase grain and store it in Jinling. As a result, grain prices soared, even affecting the region north of the Han River. However, under the Northern Army’s thunderous measures, grain distribution was strictly controlled, and price increases north of the river were forbidden.

Anyone caught violating this order—no matter how small the violation—would be executed on the spot.

After a wave of executions, unrest in the north was quickly suppressed. Ironically, a collateral branch of a noble family tried to sell grain to Jinling and was caught. They still hoped their main family would rescue them. The man handling the case, Song Shuo, pretended he might let them go, but then sighed and said that, as Chenliu magistrate, he could not directly release them.

So he wrote a letter on their behalf and sent it to the Southern Yong. The main family, for reasons unknown, actually sent someone—an important direct heir.

In front of this heir, Song Shuo executed the entire collateral branch, young and old alike, frightening the heir nearly to madness. Only then did he say: “Now you write a letter too. Ask your family to ransom you with grain. In wartime, anyone who disobeys the Northern King’s orders, refuses repentance after capture, and tries to use their family to pressure us is guilty of violating the law and insulting the King’s authority. You share the same surname, so you are no better.”

……

At this point it was only a matter involving one family. A few days later, however, the situation changed. The nobility aligned with the court, even collateral branches in the north of the Han River, were still trying to send grain to Jinling. It was intolerable—utterly ungrateful wolves! Kill them all! Expel them all—everyone connected to the aristocratic families!

The noble youths who had come to Chenliu were there on family orders, either to secure a fallback or observe which side to join. But now the Northern Army, from top to bottom, held the same stance: all aristocratic families were considered Southern Yong dogs and were not to be trusted.

After learning this, Southern Yong’s noble families felt they were being forced to choose sides. Some smaller families could not hold back and sent their children to plead. Larger families simply sneered, confident in the principle that punishment could not reach everyone. Killing chickens might scare monkeys, but it could not scare people. When the Northern King became emperor, he would still have to rely on them.

Although Xiao Rong did not hear them say this, their lack of action already revealed their stance.

Xiao Rong sat in the council hall, counting the stacks of invitations and letters like counting money. In the end, only a small number of families had real confidence.

Song Shuo sat off to the side, pouting. He was still unhappy that Xiao Rong had stopped him from killing that useless member of the main family.

After finishing the invitations, Xiao Rong looked at him and shook his head: “I’m afraid you’ll become a tyrannical official in the future.”

Hearing this, Song Shuo looked at him in surprise, then snorted: “Whether one is a tyrant or not depends on who is judging. I don’t think ordinary people will hate me.”

Xiao Rong said: “Ordinary people’s words don’t make it into history books. At the beginning of a new dynasty, strong methods are necessary, but there’s no need for everything to come from your hand. Don’t you care about your reputation?”

Song Shuo blinked: “I do.”

Xiao Rong: “Then…”

Song Shuo added: “But I don’t think killing a few people will affect my reputation. A fortune-teller once said I would live to forty. That means I still have almost twenty years left. In twenty years, the court will have a completely new group of people. And, Xiao Rong, not only do ordinary people’s words not make it into history books—fallen losers are worth even less than ordinary people.”

 

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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