Chapter 118: Kicking Someone When They're Down

Chapter 118: Kicking a Man When He's Down

Following the commotion stirred up by the rat-eyed man, the other patrons in the teahouse lost all inclination to continue their idle chatter, departing one after another.

The tea server at the side watched this with his eyes, anxiety burning in his heart. Yet he had no recourse whatsoever.

Customers came and went; that was their freedom. It could not be forced.

And truth be told, even deep within his own heart at this moment, he felt unsettled and afraid.

Although the New Policy District held a special status in Chengdu County, going by what that rat-eyed man said, the ones moving against each other this time were the lofty Gu and Wu clans. If a real fight broke out and spilled over here, what then?

One had to know that guns and cannons had no eyes. A single stray "Fire Dragon Emerging from Water" shell could easily take their lives.

Though such a chaotic battle was unlikely, under these circumstances, who would still be willing to come out for tea?

Business would inevitably suffer, and the natural result would be a sharp drop in his own income.

Thinking of this, the tea server—who had swapped his arm for a prosthetic—lost all enthusiasm for drumming up business. He hung his head, sitting by the stove, letting out long, short sighs.

"This is Chengdu Prefecture, one of the wealthiest places in the Empire. How did it suddenly fall into such chaos? That good-for-nothing brat at home is still waiting for me to earn money to buy him a new leg."

"Public resentment boils over, public resentment boils over, my lord!"

Huang Yaozong let out a soft cry, but a trace of regret flickered in his expression the next moment. "What a pity it wasn't aimed at the true source of the chaos."

The old man beside him still wore a composed smile. He slowly chanted a verse: "If a man wishes to do his work well, he must first understand its inevitable nature; fear nothing, and plan slowly."

"To start a prairie fire, you must first pile up dry kindling. A few more clashes like the one between the Gu and Wu clans, and sparks will naturally litter the hearts of the people."

This Chengdu Prefectural Magistrate, deemed mediocre by the outside world, spoke with words like chiseled stone, resonant and forceful. "When the time comes, we shall point out the root of it all. Then, the hearts of the people are like water; they may not be unable to overturn this lofty, towering Orthodoxy!"

"Brilliant, my lord! Once the territories held by these parasites are reclaimed, our Confucian school shall surely give birth to another Sage!"

Huang Yaozong's eyes burned with fanaticism. Had he not been mindful of the teahouse setting, he would likely have thrown back his head and shouted.

In comparison, the old man appeared exceptionally calm.

He leisurely blew on the murky tea broth, swallowing it down along with the inferior leaves floating on top.

"Sage or not, that is not for a petty magistrate like me to consider. If one seeks quietude and non-action, let them hide deep in the mountains. If one spreads faith, let them ferry the masses across. Governing the world should be left to those suited for it."

"The struggle for Sequence should not become the people's suffering. The people should not become nutrients for the Sequencers."

Huang Yaozong's expression turned solemn. Disregarding the few remaining patrons nearby, he rose to his full height and bowed deeply to the old man.

"Your student has been enlightened."

"Sit down, sit down. Where did you learn such pedantic, bookish manners?"

The old man offered an apologetic smile to the bewildered gazes around them. "But speaking of which, although we chose to stand by and watch this time, we cannot wash our hands of it entirely. Otherwise, if one side truly jumps the wall in desperation, that would be troublesome."

"Do they have the guts?" Huang Yaozong looked stunned. "If they really dare open fire within the city limits, harming civilians, the masters in Jinling probably wouldn't let them off, would they?"

"That's not necessarily true! For Gu Xi and Wu Gong, missing this recommendation opportunity isn't just losing a chance at officialdom; it's losing face for their patron clans."

The old man sneered. "When that happens, the two of them might not even be able to keep their current positions."

Huang Yaozong suddenly realized, his voice urgent: "Then should we send word to the two clans in advance to lay down ground rules?"

"Do you want to learn from those fools in Mianzhou County?"

The old man glanced at Huang Yaozong. "A few slices of a Zhuangyuan's brain tissue drove them to fight like that. By the time the recommendation trials arrive, do you think so-called rules will still bind them?"

Huang Yaozong let out a dry laugh, his face flushing with shame. "Then what about reporting to the Prefect's office, requesting they transfer garrison troops from other counties for support?"

"Too late. The inspection team arrives at this time tomorrow. Besides, those cowards only add flowers to brocade; they never send charcoal in snow. They certainly won't want to offend the Gu and Wu clans at this juncture. They'll just sit on the fence and watch."

Huang Yaozong smiled bitterly. "Then what do we do?"

"What do we do? Simple." The old man smiled faintly. "We may be helping neither side, but that doesn't mean we can't kick them while they're down."

"Kick them while they're down?"

This prefectural lieutenant, still green in officialdom, carefully savored those four characters. He felt he had tasted something, yet could never grasp the crux.

This seemingly tangible yet elusive feeling was excruciating. Huang Yaozong couldn't help but say: "Your subordinate is dull. Please enlighten me, my lord."

The old man, currently feasting on the tea snacks, looked up with an expression of hating iron for not becoming steel. He flicked a finger against Huang Yaozong's forehead, cursing angrily:

"Are you a blockhead? I've spelled it out this much, and you still don't understand!"

Crumbs of cake sprayed from the old man's mouth onto Huang Yaozong's face, a few even flying down his collar. Yet he dared not move, meekly accepting the reprimand.

"Don't you understand the literal meaning of 'kicking a man when he's down'? Whoever has the advantage, we help. Whoever falls behind, we trample!"

Perhaps Huang Yaozong's expression was too pitiful. The old man withdrew his finger, wiped his mouth, and explained with forced patience:

"We must seize the initiative, grasp the opportunity to stomp them to death directly, giving them no chance to maneuver or trade pieces. With no opponent, there is naturally no possibility of conflict."

"But we don't know what pieces the Gu and Wu clans hold. How do we seize the timing?"

Huang Yaozong's question hit the mark, and the old man fell into contemplation.

"This time, Gu Xi killed those two Red-robed Slaves. Such a humiliating insult—by rights, with Wu Gong's temperament, he would have rolled up his sleeves and started fighting long ago."

"But he has changed his usual ways, enduring it to this day. Something is amiss."

The old man dipped a finger in tea and slowly wrote the character "Wu" on the table.

"Wu Gong likely holds something in his hand sufficient to secure victory. He wants to wait until the inspection team is present to deliver a fatal blow."

The old man narrowed his eyes, his voice low and slow: "What I worry about now is whether the things in his hand might give those with lingering treacherous hearts an opening, ruining my grand plan."

Huang Yaozong frowned in doubt: "Could it be the Orthodoxy? That shouldn't be right. Aren't they the ones who most want a peaceful resolution?"

"One fears there are those within the Orthodoxy who also wish to reshuffle the deck."

The old man's pupils were deep, like an unfathomable abyss.