Chapter 230: Old Steed, New Rider

Chapter 230: The Old Steed, The New Mount

Zhongyu District, Cloud Temple Barber Shop.

Two barber chairs sat side by side, an old man and a young man reclining within.

Warm yellow light spilled from the ceiling, illuminating two faces, one weathered by time, the other fresh.

"I never imagined the esteemed Brocade Guard Household Office of Chongqing Prefecture would actually be hiding inside a barbershop."

Yan Bahuang smiled in return. "What, think it lowers my status?"

"Senior, you seem to forget I used to be a Hushui Paoge. I didn't even qualify as a bandit, at best a troublesome commoner. There's nothing I could possibly look down on."

"Actually, for the Brocade Guard, shaving heads and beheading heads aren't so different. They both count as the same line of work."

Yan Bahuang laughed. "For those who walk straight and sit upright, we shave their heads and trim their faces, giving them full face. As for those who want no face, naturally we can only help them lose their heads, wiping that face clean away."

"That's why the Brocade Guard in Chongqing Prefecture has always run barbershops as fronts. Though few in number, there's a certain meaning to it."

Li Jun tugged at the scabbed wound on his face, asking curiously, "What if a real customer actually shows up?"

"Since we're open for business, why fear customers?"

Yan Bahuang twirled a sharp straight razor in his hand. "If a real customer comes, we serve them with this."

He raised a hand, pointing to the shop entrance, to the black umbrella stuck in the umbrella rack. "If a fake customer comes who doesn't pay, we entertain them with that."

"Moreover, although most intelligence is now transmitted through the Yellow Millet Dream Realm, that is ultimately someone else's property. Sometimes, by the time a piece of intelligence reaches your hands, god knows how many things have been mixed into it; truth and falsehood have long become indistinguishable."

"Even more serious: a piece of top-secret intelligence has clearly been viewed by someone, yet you have no way of detecting it."

Li Jun pondered, picking up the thread. "Sir, are you referring to those Yellow Millet Giant Rats of the Yin-Yang School?"

"Brat, call me Boss. You, a troublesome commoner, calling this old man 'Sir'—it never feels like anything good is coming."

Yan Bahuang cursed with a smile, explaining patiently to Li Jun as if lecturing a class:

"Not just them. The Daoist 'White Jade Capital', the Confucian 'Donglin Academy', and quite a few participants of other Sequences possess this craft. After all, as long as they weren't stupid, these people left themselves backdoors to varying degrees back in the day."

Li Jun was startled. "Going by that, isn't the current Yellow Millet Dream Realm just a massive dojo, with all linkers as fish on the Daoist chopping block?"

Yan Bahuang waved a hand, laughing. "Not that exaggerated. A project this vast—if the Empire weren't backing it from behind, even if you emptied the coffers of the Three Teachings, you couldn't pull it off."

"It's just that the Empire is in decline now, the Great Ming Code has lost most of its regulatory power, so these people seized the chance to usurp many permissions through their backdoors. Even so, quite a few permissions remain in the hands of the Royal Family."

Li Jun mulled over Yan Bahuang's words, vaguely feeling this might be one of the reasons the Zhu Ming Royal Family, rotten as it was, could still persist.

"Boss, among the participants you mentioned, there were no Buddhist or Daoist Sequences?"

Yan Bahuang nodded. "Indeed, there weren't."

"How can that be?" Li Jun was baffled.

Logically, a technological wave sweeping the entire Empire—no Sequence would be unwilling to participate.

Li Jun even suspected that the rise and fall of the Martial Sequence, besides human factors, was largely because they were squeezed out of this wave.

"The specific reasons... this old man isn't entirely clear either."

Yan Bahuang sighed. "But among those bald donkeys, there are indeed stunning geniuses. Even without joining the Yellow Millet Dream Realm, they blazed another trail, forging a 'Buddha Kingdom' path centered on the individual, stacking karmic computing power with the brains of believers. The means are disgusting, but the effect isn't bad—even superior in stability."

Li Jun's brow twitched. This... wasn't this just a LAN versus the Internet?!

"Boss, going online... no, can the Yellow Millet Dream Realm really be used for cultivation?"

As a martial artist without an 'ID Card', unable to log on, Li Jun's curiosity about the Yellow Millet Dream Realm hadn't diminished with understanding; it had only grown thicker.

"The potential of the spirit is no less than the flesh. When hundreds of millions of commoners are all linked inside, that place becomes a new world far vaster and more profound than reality, vast enough to contain all fantasies—even time gets stretched and dilated."

Yan Bahuang looked rugged, but at this moment, he thoughtfully gave Li Jun an example.

"Take a Daoist cultivator. Before the Yellow Millet Grotto-Heaven, they could only accumulate Dao intent bit by bit through meditation and pills. Decades of grinding work, just for a chance at Sequence Eight or Seven. And along the way, they faced countless carnal temptations; one misstep meant death of body and Dao."

"But inside the Yellow Millet Grotto-Heaven, with sufficient permissions, they can even 'invite out' the Three Pure Ones to teach them personally. They can swap their flesh for a mechanical body, avoiding most carnal desires entirely. Add in 'one day in the world, one year in heaven' for secluded cultivation—the difficulty of advancement naturally plummets."

Li Jun grinned, indignant. "That's damn well cheating!"

Yan Bahuang glanced at him. "Before the Yellow Millet, a Daoist of ten years might not beat a martial artist of one year. Your Martial Sequence wasn't cheating too?"

Li Jun heard the resentment in Yan Bahuang's tone and laughed awkwardly.

"That's all past tense. No matter how big the family business was, now only ruins remain."

"Not necessarily."

Yan Bahuang's gaze grew deep. "The feng shui turns. Perhaps one day the Martial Sequence will spark a new technological revolution, and then it'll be your turn to lord it over everyone again."

A new technological revolution.

Li Jun's heart suddenly surged with tidal waves, sinking into deep thought for a moment.

"Alright, you look like the type with fists bigger than brains. These technical matters have nothing to do with you. Instead of thinking about that, tell me what you plan to do now?"

Li Jun suppressed his diverging thoughts, focusing on the current situation. After a moment's silence, he said: "Zhao Tong is dead now. The remaining 'Eight Generals' of the Sichuan-Chongqing Gambling Conference are few. They shouldn't dare stir up trouble again."

That might not be so.

Yan Bahuang neither confirmed nor denied Li Jun's confidence, asking with a smile: "What about those two bald donkeys? Just stalemate like this?"

"No." Li Jun's tone was final. "They can't hold back, and I don't plan to either. Right now everyone's digging pits. Just waiting to see who jumps in first."

"Got a plan?"

Li Jun chuckled, offering no explanation.

Yan Bahuang didn't press. "Then finish up and come back to report soon. An old man my age still running a branch office for you—across the entire Empire's Brocade Guard Household Offices, that's a damn joke."

Li Jun's lips moved, about to speak, when a sound seemed to reach his ears. A flash of cold light instantly sparked in his eyes.

Yan Bahuang narrowed his eyes. "That fast? Someone fell in the pit already?"

"Some people have hard heads. When they can't figure it out, they naturally fall in."

Li Jun hauled himself out of the barber chair, striding toward the door.

Just as he was about to push it open, a shout came from behind.

"Hey, brat. It's the rainy season in the mountain city. Don't forget the umbrella."

"I only borrowed it once. Never thought to keep it."

Li Jun paused, turning back with a smile. "If you really give it to me, what will you use?"

"This old man has propped up this Cloud Temple for so many years my beard's turned white. Can't I retire and rest?" Yan Bahuang glared. "I told you to take it, so take it. Dawdling like a woman."

Li Jun fell silent for a moment, finally taking the umbrella in hand and walking out the door.

Only Yan Bahuang remained in the barbershop.

He lay in the chair with eyes closed, the corners of his mouth curled in irrepressible mirth.

*Click.*

He snapped his fingers, and the shop's speakers immediately blasted the bold, magnificent aria of an old male role.

"Zhuge of Han received the Dragon's grace, entrusted with the orphan, strict command in hand, placing the realm's affairs in the mountain man's grip, holding the universe."

"Worshipping the Southern Dipper and Northern Dipper, all you divine saints, the Registrar Official—may your brush show mercy."

“It is not that Zhuge Liang fears death; it is for the sake of my lord’s splendid realm.”

How did such a tune come shuffling up at random?

Suddenly, the old man’s eyes flew open, his head turning to fix a piercing gaze on the shop entrance.

Ding-ling!!

The welcome bell at the door chimed sharply; a pale, beardless man stepped in first.

“No wonder the tune sounded so ill-omened. Speak—what do you want, bringing so many Shoulou Mountain Guards to this old man’s door?”

Zhang Ruzhen kept his hands folded in his sleeves, smiling softly: “Naturally, to escort Commander Yan on his final journey.”

“Hah! A little eunuch... and you think you’re worthy?!”