Chapter 409: The Method of Hibernating Officials

Chapter 409: The Cocoon Governance Method

"Finished speaking?"

A single, frigid sentence sliced through the air, halting Mo Qi Qing.

Zhao Qingxian slowly lifted his gaze, his sharp-featured face etched with frost.

"Once you've finished speaking, you won't speak again. Otherwise, we won't be brothers anymore."

With that, he dismissed the words like a blade, careless of the widened eyes of the whale beside him, and strode toward the tunnel's end.

"Come on, kid, how can you not understand the weight of my words? Who truly cares for you? Can't you see it? The bowels of the human heart are divided, and now, who in the world still speaks of righteousness? These days, it's all about interests, all about gold. Do you understand? Hey, kid, did you hear what I said? By God, you deserve to be cheated with that kind of character!"

Zhao Qingxian walked to the tunnel's end, where a long brick platform stretched out before him, beneath it yawning a vast chasm hundreds of feet across.

If someone were to bow their head and gaze down, they would see countless platforms within the abyss, each a stopping point for forward scouts, each representing an independent team or studio of the Jules Sect.

Yet within this chasm, there was no darkness—only a dense canopy of pale green light points flickering rhythmically, like countless fireflies clinging to the cavern walls.

These were Huangliang Hosts embedded into the mountain's body, extending deep into the earth's core.

The Divine Artifact Forum, the Bright Ghost Realm, the Non-Aggression Institute's Research Center, the Collapse and Chaos Exchange Platform.

This was the foundation of Mo Xu's various permanent Huangliang dreamscapes across the northern reaches of the Empire.

"Not the surface-level platform?"

Zhao Qingxian stared at the empty expanse before him, his face pale as death, cursing bitterly: "You idiot, Mo Qi Qing!"

"Ah!"

A tremendous whale call echoed from the chasm below, and Zhao Qingxian felt the ground beneath him tremble. Soon, a clear ringing of metal filled the air as a fierce wind surged forth, two points of green light flashing in the darkness, as if some enormous beast drew near.

A pressure born from the depths of his genes gripped his heart with primal fear, making him nearly sprint away.

"Again with this trick. I'll smash your hump yet!"

Zhao Qingxian clutched the wall beside him, lest the malevolent wind sweep him into the chasm.

A massive whale-like creature erupted from the darkness at the chasm's base!

Round-headed, wide-mouthed, with teeth sharp as blades, its body stretched roughly twenty zhang in length, its entire form sheathed in thick metal armor. As its pectoral fins flapped, it stirred the wind, navigating the chasm like a fish in the sea.

In the Northern Deep, there was a fish named Kun.

Mo Qi Qing, the wandering warrior of the Mo Order, a being who abandoned flesh for steel.

"Seems you still need your elder brother to escort you, brother. Come, let's go."

Mo Qi Qing opened his blood-red maw, his razor-sharp teeth grinding together with a sharp clatter.

Zhao Qingxian had no choice but to step onto the whale's dorsal fins and leap onto its back.

Zhao Qingxian noticed that where he landed, a depression had formed in the whale's armor, sized perfectly for a person to sit in, its edges smoothed and wrapped in leather—this was clearly prepared for him.

His pent-up frustration dissolved in that moment. Before he could speak, a deafening whale song boomed, and the armor plates around him converged, seamlessly embedding his form within them, eliminating any risk of falling.

Mo Qi Qing lifted its body, its pectoral fins propelling it upward through the chasm.

"Brother, I know you did this for me."

The wind howled, pressing against Zhao Qingxian, nearly choking his words. He shouted: "But I never made Master Ma my servant. He shouldn't belong to anyone! He's my brother, and Li Jun is too!"

"I'm just a recluse in my studies. Old Ma follows me. Ah! Ah!"

Mo Qi Qing's massive form jerked, its head snapping sideways, flinging Zhao Qingxian from its back, landing him squarely on the highest platform.

Zhao Qingxian tumbled like a gourd, rolling into the tunnel leading to the surface.

"How could someone so brainless survive in this world?"

Mo Qi Qing flicked its tail, turning toward the endless darkness below.

"Though rules are rules, I suppose. After all, I only have one younger brother. If something happens to you, who'll lend me money?"

Zhao Qingxian hurried through the throng of people, this settlement—nowhere to be found on any map of the Great Ming Empire—still bustling with life even at midnight.

The clamor of voices, the clangor of blacksmiths, the metallic tang in the air mingled with strange, fetid odors.

The buildings on either side were ancient in style, like the stilt houses of southern China, though their supports were thick iron legs instead of wood.

The eastern courtyard of the Jules Sect lay hidden within towering mountains, a moving city recorded in ancient texts—a mechanical fortress.

Zhao Qingxian sprinted until he reached the outskirts of the town, where a pavilion bearing the sign "Dream-Catching Pavilion" stood. There, he found the stunned face of Zhou Si Jiǔ.

"I apologize, stranger. Outsiders entering the Jules Sect must remain in designated zones—it's to prevent intrusion into their dreams."

The moment Zhao Qingxian stepped into the pavilion, Zhou Si Jiǔ's lonely eyes brightened with a spark.

"Damn it, this is so unfair! With our connection, I'm at least a guest, right? The pretenders of the Confucian Order know when a friend arrives from afar—why here, they treat me like a thief!"

Zhou Si Jiǔ shouted: "And am I someone who just wanders into a blacksmith's dream? What, to learn to forge metal or swing an axe?!"

Zhao Qingxian pinched his lips shut with a finger, signaling Zhou Si Jiǔ to hush.

Zhou Si Jiǔ shivered, then smiled: "Of course, the Huangliang Beast Mouse knows its place."

"This is what Brother Li wants."

Zhao Qingxian handed Zhou Si Jiǔ a box: "Five-star Combat Skill, the Cocoon Governance Method!"

"Understood."

Once in hand, Zhou Si Jiǔ, his staff of iron clutched to his back, had no intention of lingering here any longer, and strode out of the pavilion.

Zhao Qingxian stood in the pavilion, staring at Zhou Si Jiǔ's retreating figure, momentarily stunned. Suddenly, he noticed an electronic scroll on the stone table within the pavilion.

The screen glowed faintly, displaying an open document: "Great Ming Empire Ministry of Works Exchange List."

"Brother Zhou!" Zhao Qingxian called out.

Zhou Si Jiǔ stood at the stone steps descending from the pavilion, giving a casual wave without turning.

"Your brother Li told me—he may not have much money, but he has some savings. He'll choose whatever catches his eye. You don't need to worry about spending—he's already preauthorized a fifty-million quota with the Ministry of Works. Even if you don't select anything, you can't return it."

"And if the quota's insufficient, he'll help you cut what you need to earn!"

Thunder rumbled, and a torrential downpour began.

The rain of early spring was particularly fierce, bearing a cruel essence that crashed from the darkened sky, smashing all aerial advertisements, finally slamming onto faces hardened by bloodlust.

Swords were drawn, guns loaded.

Everyone fell silent, shoulder to shoulder, awaiting the figure beneath the black umbrella to issue orders.

The umbrella tilted slightly, the Ghost King Da raised his gaze, staring fixedly at the highest point of the building before him, his eyes locked on the rows of inscriptions reading "Empire Benevolence, Protect My Southern Barbarians" on the permanent plaques.

"Protect my Southern barbarians? Protect your mother's head!"

Ghost King Da waved his hand like a blade, his voice cold: "Charge in—anyone who doesn't surrender will be executed on sight!"