Chapter 273: Kneeling for an Audience

“Cough... cough... cough...”

“Caught a chill?”

“Seems so.”

“The weather’s warmer now, which actually makes it easier to catch one. You need to be careful.”

“Heh. Thinking about it now, I might have been better off dying back in winter. At least I could have gone without attachments. Better than being dragged into this miserable state by a dog like you.”

“Now you’re just being unreasonable. Completely unreasonable. After all these years, this is the first time I’ve come home for a visit, and this is how you speak to me? Wouldn’t that chill the hearts of the countless disciples of the Tianhu Dao throughout the world?”

After placing a stone on the board, Xue Yi picked up the teapot beside him and took a drink straight from the spout.

The tea came from Tianhu Mountain.

Tianhu Mountain had two great businesses. One was talismans. The other was tea.

Whether Tianhu Mountain’s talismans actually worked was difficult to say. Some people drank water in which a talisman had been dissolved, recovered from their illness, and proclaimed it miraculous. Others drank the same sort of water and immediately kicked the bucket, at which point everyone said they simply had not been sincere enough.

But Tianhu Mountain’s tea was another matter. At the height of its fame, scholars throughout the State of Qian had competed to buy it. Its reputation had been genuinely earned.

Zhang Wenren took out a handkerchief, covered his mouth, and continued coughing. In his old age, he looked terribly haggard.

Xue Yi, sitting opposite him, was roughly the same age. Yet half the hair on Xue Yi’s head still stubbornly remained black, and his complexion was far healthier than Zhang Wenren’s.

When the coughing fit finally passed, Zhang Wenren put away the handkerchief and looked up at the junior brother sitting across from him. Envy surfaced naturally in his eyes.

How could he not be envious?

The Emperor of Yan had actually been willing to bring out the Yan Cauldron, bestowed upon Yan by the Son of Heaven of Great Xia in ancient times, and allow Xue Yi to draw upon the imperial house’s own dragon qi for cultivation.

For a Qi Refiner, that was a tremendous opportunity that ten lifetimes of cultivation might never earn.

To put it crudely, even a pig capable of practicing cultivation methods, if fed in such a fashion, would eventually amount to something.

And who could have imagined that this junior brother, whose aptitude had been nothing remarkable among their fellow disciples back then, would one day reach his present heights and become, in all but name, the State Preceptor of Great Yan?

And Zhang Wenren himself?

The characters of his Daoist name, Wenren, were different from those of the Wenren Clan, yet they sounded exactly the same. He had been born of Wenren blood; only after being brought up the mountain as a child had his master changed his name to Wenren.

Now his “clan and country” had been destroyed.

And even the Daoist lineage he had preserved through every humiliation—this Tianhu Mountain itself—was tottering in the wind and rain.

Zhang Wenren placed another stone on the board.

“Junior Brother, we won’t be able to finish this game today.”

Xue Yi nodded.

“Senior Brother still refuses to let me win.”

Zhang Wenren shook his head firmly.

“I cannot let you win. From childhood until now, I have never let you win.”

“But back then, all our fellow disciples looked down on me as a Yan barbarian. Only you were willing to lend me a hand.”

“That was merely the greatest form of contempt.”

Xue Yi nodded and sighed.

“Senior Brother, must you really put it that way?”

“If you stood where I stand now, you would no longer ask me that question.”

“That is true.”

“When the Yan army entered Jin and the Marquis of Jingnan took control of Litian City, Tianhu Mountain stood right beside it. Do you know how much I had to swallow, how low I had to bow, just to preserve this place?”

“I know.”

“The blood in my veins is the blood of the Wenren Clan. If not for the sake of preserving the lineage our master left behind, why would I, Wenren Zhang, ever have humbled myself to this extent?

“I could have simply gone down the mountain and traded a few moves with Tian Wujing. Wouldn’t that have been far more satisfying?”

Xue Yi shook his head.

“You cannot beat the Marquis of Jingnan.”

“...”

Zhang Wenren stared at him.

“People like you and me have two uses. First, we peer into the secrets of Heaven. Second, we judge feng shui and the patterns of the land. In the end, we are still nothing more than the emperor’s hunting dogs. Our fur simply looks a little softer and more obedient.

“Secret agents spy upon officials and commoners for the emperor. We peer into Heaven’s secrets for the emperor. There is no real difference between us. That is why, in the State of Yan, the Secret Intelligence Department has Qi Refiners under its command.

“No matter how much fine language we wrap around it, we are not hounds bred specifically to bite people. We cultivate our entire lives dreaming of fighting Heaven itself, but because none of us ever manages to find where Heaven actually is, that fight never happens.

“A man who has never truly fought, no matter how high his cultivation, will still lose to the hounds whose entire purpose is biting people.

“We simply have different jobs.”

“You, Xue Yi, may be perfectly willing to serve as a dog. Do you think everyone beneath Heaven is equally willing to become a dog for the Yan people?”

“Doesn’t Heaven treat us like dogs as well? We cultivate our entire lives without ever seeing its face. If that isn’t Heaven playing with us like dogs, what is?”

“You...”

“Senior Brother, at a time like this, can’t we say something a little warmer? Must we really sit here with drawn swords, acting like mortal enemies?

“We are old enough to have one foot in the grave already. Going down there while still quarreling would be terribly undignified.

“And when we finally stand before Master again, won’t we still have to pretend we were harmonious brothers all along, just so the old man can rest easy?”

“When you first arrived, I was perfectly warm toward you. I even thought that with your reputation behind me, perhaps I could finally sleep a little more soundly while living beside this Marquis of Yan.”

“Can’t you sleep even more soundly now? There’s nothing left to worry about.”

Zhang Wenren’s eyelids drooped.

“Heh.

“True.”

There was nothing left to worry about.

Because he was certainly going to die.

“Senior Brother, I have to descend the mountain now. I must be down before sunset. You should gather the disciples and make your preparations as well.”

“The firewood and lamp oil are ready. We’ve brought out our new robes. The white candles and talisman paper are all prepared too.

“There is only one thing I wish to ask of you.”

“What?”

“Can the ancestral hall containing the memorial tablets of Tianhu Mountain’s successive patriarchs be spared?”

Xue Yi shook his head.

“Senior Brother means for me to plead on your behalf?”

“Yes.”

“If I do not mention it, perhaps it might survive. The people of Yan may not truly believe in such things, but there is still some reverence in their hearts.

“If I specifically ask for it to be spared, then it certainly will not survive.”

“Then what use are you as the State Preceptor of Yan?”

Xue Yi nodded sadly.

“Someone else might grant me that face. But Tian Wujing—whose face would he ever care about?

“Even His Majesty owes Tian Wujing a debt he can never repay. How could anyone still expect that man to spare something merely out of respect for another person?”

“Why did you have to do this?

“Why did you have to come...?”

Xue Yi sighed.

“Senior Brother, listening to you talk, even I’m beginning to feel as though I personally killed the Marquis of Jingnan’s wife.”

“You cannot wash your hands of it.”

“Yes. I cannot wash my hands of it.

“I should never have come here.

“My coming here was the greatest mistake of all.”

“This disaster fell upon you for no reason. Why must Tianhu Mountain be dragged into it?”

“Because the Marquis of Jingnan’s wife met with disaster on Tianhu Mountain.

“Whether I did it or not, whether I had anything to do with it or not, Tianhu Mountain cannot escape.”

“Tianhu Mountain knew nothing!”

“But the Marquis of Jingnan needs somewhere to vent his rage.”

“And because he needs to vent his rage, Tianhu Mountain must become the sacrifice?”

Xue Yi paused.

Then he turned and looked at his senior brother.

“Yes.”

“Why...?

“Why...?

“Why...?”

Xue Yi smiled.

“The Jingnan Army wants to destroy you. What does that have to do with you?”

“...”

Zhang Wenren fell silent.

Xue Yi straightened his Daoist robe, making certain there was nothing improper about his appearance.

“Senior Brother, do you remember when all of us used to travel down the mountain together and explore hidden caverns and secret places?”

“I remember.”

“Every time, I would go inside first to scout the way, then call the rest of you in afterward.”

“Yes.”

“Then this time, let Junior Brother scout the Yellow Springs ahead of you once more.

“When Senior Brother follows later, perhaps your heart will be a little more at ease.”

With that, Xue Yi threw back his head and laughed.

Then his body drifted lightly down the mountain.

...

At the foot of the mountain, the armored soldiers of the Jingnan Army had already surrounded the entire area.

Every soldier wore a strip of white cloth around his left arm. Crossbows and weapons stood ready in neat ranks.

They were waiting for only one order from the man inside Litian City.

Once it came, they would storm the mountain.

At that point, whether it was a centuries-old Daoist lineage or a sacred ancestral seat, everything here would become smoke and memory.

Xue Yi descended.

The Jingnan Army knew exactly who he was.

Yet even when his figure appeared, not one soldier knelt or saluted.

No spear was lowered.

No officer dismounted.

Here, the title of State Preceptor of the Great Yan Dynasty seemed utterly worthless.

This man, whom the eunuchs of the imperial palace addressed as Grand Ancestor and Grand Eunuch, now bore the concentrated fury of the entire Jingnan Army.

It was a startling sight.

And yet, somehow, it felt completely natural.

Xue Yi looked up at the sky.

“Please send word to the Marquis of Jingnan.

“Tell him Xue Yi requests permission to descend the mountain.”

No one moved.

Which meant no one intended to report his words.

There was no need to explain that attitude.

It was the attitude of the Jingnan Army itself.

In fact, Xue Yi could see anticipation in the eyes of several officers.

They were not merely unafraid of his title as State Preceptor.

They almost seemed eager to kill him.

That remained true even though he was a formidable Qi Refiner in his own right, and even though he had spent years cultivating with the aid of the Yan Cauldron.

But these were elites who had campaigned north and south for years.

They had never held much fear toward individual experts.

Heaven only knew how many so-called masters died every time armies clashed in a great battle.

Xue Yi sat cross-legged in the middle of the mountain road.

His gaze gradually became deep and distant.

He had come to Litian City on the Emperor of Yan’s personal orders to bless the Marquis of Jingnan’s unborn child and perform a rite to cleanse the child’s marrow and strengthen the body.

In all of Great Yan, only three imperial princes had ever received Xue Yi’s blessing before.

The first was First Prince Ji Wujiang, because he had been the Emperor of Yan’s first child.

The second was the Second Prince, now Crown Prince Ji Chenglang, because he was the eldest legitimate son.

The third was the Sixth Prince, Ji Chengjue.

The Emperor had sent Xue Yi across a thousand li, ordering him out of Yanjing for the first time in decades, solely so he could bless the Marquis of Jingnan’s first child.

Inside Xue Yi’s robes was still a family letter written personally by the Emperor of Yan.

A family letter addressed to Tian Wujing.

Inside it, the Emperor had even written the name he wished to bestow upon the child.

That man whose words carried the weight of Heaven’s law, whose imperial brush could determine life and death, had rambled on in the letter about what the child might be called if it were a boy and what it might be called if it were a girl.

He had considered everything carefully.

He had written it with extraordinary tenderness.

And yet now, the situation had suddenly become as precarious as eggs stacked one atop another.

Xue Yi understood perfectly well why Yan was strong.

Great Yan’s strength rested upon one army and one Marquis.

The army was the Zhenbei Army.

The Marquis was the Marquis of Jingnan.

If, because of this affair, the Marquis of Jingnan rebelled... then Great Yan...

Xue Yi closed his eyes helplessly.

All around him stood fierce armored soldiers.

Only the clean mountain wind continued to brush softly past.

A long time later, Xue Yi changed his posture.

From sitting cross-legged, he knelt.

Then he raised his voice and shouted, “Xue Yi, State Preceptor of the Great Yan Dynasty, kneels and begs the Marquis of Jingnan for an audience!”

————

[End of Chapter 273]