Chapter 119: Should Be a Pawn Crossing the River

Chapter 119: One Must Be a Pawn That Has Crossed the River

The sky was overcast, rain threatening to fall yet holding back.

Lanterns along both sides of Jiulong Street flickered to life one by one, auspicious symbols bearing the meaning of "attracting wealth" in the eyes of the Ming people soaring forth from signboards of different lights.

For a moment, the air above the entire street teemed with marvelous sights, awash in flowing radiance.

A pixiu toyed with koi; the God of Wealth and the Wenchang Tower stood shoulder to shoulder; Maitreya lay reclined upon a massive gold ingot, eyes narrowed in a smile.

Beneath the prosperous play of light and shadow, however, the street was sparsely populated, desolate and bleak.

This was the first time Li Jun had seen Jiulong Street so quiet—not only were the residents who lived here absent, even the contraband merchants who usually squatted in street corners and alley ends had vanished without a trace.

He silently surveyed the signboards lining the street: bars, hotels, mahjong parlors, hot pot restaurants, Huangliang brothels.

Clearly all familiar Chinese characters, yet beneath the dazzling red and blue lights they exuded a chill and a strangeness.

He had awakened here, yet this place had never belonged to him.

"Hey, fucking sentimental."

Li Jun shook his head, cursing himself with a self-deprecating laugh, his pace quickening.

Moments later, at the end of this long street, a square table stood brazenly in the very center of the road.

A copper pot boiled atop it, the wafting spicy-savory aroma stirring an unbidden warmth in the depths of one's heart.

Kuang Qingyun sat at the table's edge, smiling as he beckoned to Li Jun.

His appearance had changed drastically by now—that azure scholar's robe exchanged for black night-walking attire, his once meticulously coiffed topknot now cropped to ear-length, crudely tied at the back of his head.

Li Jun dragged over a long bench and sat down, teasing as he looked at Kuang Qingyun: "What, no more playing the elegant young master?"

"When eating, can we not talk about this dogshit nonsense?"

Kuang Qingyun rolled his eyes, picking up a slice of tripe with his chopsticks and placing it in Li Jun's bowl. "When there's food, eat more. Otherwise when there's nothing to eat later, you'll miss it all the more."

The words seemed addressed to Li Jun, yet more like he was speaking to himself.

Li Jun didn't move his chopsticks, frowning: "You guessed it?"

"You sent people to deliver so much money for no reason—how could I not guess some of it?"

"Then why haven't you left?"

"Go where?"

Kuang Qingyun smiled, gesturing at their surroundings. "Look at these buildings and shops. Dilapidated as they are, they're the life's property of so many people. These things can't be taken along."

"They'll be fine," Li Jun said urgently. "They're not Paoge members—the Chengdu County yamen won't stand by and watch the Gu family move against ordinary commoners."

"I know," Kuang Qingyun's expression was calm. "But once the Paoge leave, this street collapses. You think other gangs would treat them like we do?"

Li Jun snapped: "What time do you think it is, and you still care about this? This storm—you, Kuang Qingyun, cannot hold it back!"

In truth, Li Jun had one more sentence stuck in his throat, unsaid.

For these Jiulong Street residents, even if the Paoge collapsed, life would go on—just far more difficult than before.

"Unable to hold back and unwilling to hold back are two different things. This life of mine was given by Master Ding; the foundation he left behind, I must guard."

Li Jun's brows twitched, a thousand words in his heart yet he hesitated, finally saying helplessly: "Master Ding was right—you're just a foolishly loyal man."

"This isn't foolish loyalty."

Kuang Qingyun enunciated each word, then countered: "Enough about me—what about you? You could have fled long ago, so why endure until now?"

Li Jun froze at this, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Kuang Qingyun's words weren't wrong. With his current peak Martial Eighth Realm strength, combined with that Xitinglang capable of concealing aura, as long as he went to the Mo clan to change his face, escaping Chengdu Prefecture wouldn't be too hard.

Though the Daoist sect could cover the sky with one hand over half of Sichuan, the Qingcheng Group only held sway within Chengdu Prefecture.

Once outside Chengdu Prefecture's bounds, Yu Kou searching for him would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

As for the Embroidered Uniform Guard, as long as he gave up on breaking the lock to advance in sequence, Wei Juan could also shelter him.

But such an outcome—was it what he wanted?

To live under another's roof?

To swallow humiliation?

To spend a lifetime as a mediocre, submissive Martial Eighth?

The martial path is a road with no retreat—momentary cowardice means a lifetime of lowliness.

A martial man in this world should be like a pawn that has crossed the river.

Li Jun shook his head: "I'm fighting for a breath of pride!"

Kuang Qingyun spoke each word distinctly: "Then what I seek is that sliver of righteousness!"

At opposite ends of the long table, the two men locked gazes, and finally smiled at each other.

Words having come this far, what more need be said.

Boom!

A furious thunderclap exploded in the heavens!

When man unleashes killing intent, heaven and earth overturn.

When heaven unleashes killing intent, dragons and snakes rise from the land!

The communication device on Li Jun's wrist suddenly chimed—the sender was the Gu clan steward, Qian Hai.

The message was concise, only six characters: The inspection team has entered the city.

"The grand curtain rises; time to take the stage and perform."

Li Jun lifted his eyes to the sky—beneath the rolling thunderclouds, flocks of birds circled on beating wings.

New Policy District, Chengdu Prefecture County Yamen.

A luxury coach manufactured by the Shuntian Prefecture Divine Machine Military Industrial Group stopped before the yamen gates.

On the coach's side was sprayed a white-ground, black-character ceremonial plaque—Great Ming Empire Ministry of Personnel.

The Chengdu County Magistrate unprecedentedly donned that official robe embroidered with mandarin duck rank badges, yet his expression was exceptionally calm, not a trace of the excitement one would expect when welcoming Ministry of Personnel heavenly officials.

Rather, it was Huang Yaozong at his side wearing a fawning smile, striding quickly to the coach and calling out respectfully: "Various lords have had a hard journey—Chengdu County has prepared humble wine to welcome you all and wash away the dust of travel."

The carriage door opened, three middle-aged scholars in plain Confucian robes stepping out slowly.

The leader, a square-faced man with a long beard at his chin, gave a cold nod to Huang Yaozong bowing at the side, then ignored him entirely, walking straight toward the old man standing motionless before the yamen's main gate.

"Student Zhang Xian pays respects to Lord Pei."

At this sight, the two Assistant Officials following behind Zhang Xian froze in place, momentarily at a loss.

The old man shifted his feet, moving half a step aside. "Lord Zhang, you are now a Bureau Secretary of the Ministry of Personnel's Office of Merit Evaluation—your official rank is a level higher than this old man. Such conduct violates propriety."

Zhang Xian spoke deeply: "Before Lord Pei's achievements, what is a mere official post worth mentioning?"

"All are but fleeting clouds. You've come far from the Northern Zhili—tired from the journey. Enter first and eat some hot food."

"Many thanks, Lord Pei."

Zhang Xian followed close behind the old man, step for measured step, through the great gates of the county yamen.

The two Kaoguo clerks who had sparred verbally all along the road now brought up the rear shoulder to shoulder; as they crossed the threshold, they instinctively glanced sideways at one another, each seeing the shock mirrored in the other's eyes.

Only moments before, both had quietly accessed the Ministry of Personnel's Kaoguo electronic archives.

The recorded magistrate of Chengdu County was one Pei Xingjian, whose career was utterly undistinguished, devoid of a single remarkable feat.

The sole detail warranting attention was the man who had recommended him for the post: none other than the current Prefect of Chengdu Prefecture.

What could possibly merit such deference from Lord Zhang for an old functionary who had slid into a plum appointment on the coattails of patronage?

The thought flashed through both clerks' minds like lightning, and almost simultaneously a chill conjecture took root.

Someone had deliberately concealed Pei Xingjian's true record.

The realization settled like a stone in their chests.

This recommendation, they feared, would not prove nearly as simple as they had imagined.