Chapter 480: People-Eating Order

Chapter 480 The Order of Consuming the People

“Zhou Heyu may not be a great name within the Confucian Order, but he stands behind the Zhou clan of Runan. You may kill him, yet to see him die in the humiliating manner of a dog would disgrace the Zhou clan.”

Xu Haichao said with a hint of helplessness: “Because of your needless venting today, the Zhou clan will hate you to the bone. Is it worth it?”

“The lofty Envoy of the Japanese District, projected here especially—surely you’re not asking me whether it’s worth it with such idle chatter?”

Li Jun settled into the high chair, the tip of his blade tapping the floor, his hands clasped over the hilt.

“Tonight many seek death; we’ll all be busy. If you have words, Lord Xu, speak them plainly—no need for roundabout talk.”

Xu Haichao paid no mind to Li Jun’s defiant bearing; his admiration only grew brighter.

“Since the world divided the martial ways, I have not seen a warrior of the martial order retain such blood‑heat as you.”

A nostalgic expression crossed Xu’s face: “The martial men now hidden within the Confucian clans were terrified in that ancient slaughter, reduced to collared dogs that only grin at their masters’ moods. They may still perform a fox‑pretending‑to‑be‑a‑tiger trick, but when true life‑or‑death combat comes, their courage has long fled. Men like you are now a rarity.”

“Oh?”

Li Jun raised an eyebrow, half‑smiling: “I did not expect you, Lord Xu, to hold me in such esteem.”

“But rarity does not merit preservation for the Confucian Order; it calls for elimination.”

Xu Haichao shifted his tone: “The Confucian Order excels at summarizing and reflecting. Past experiences have taught them the threat the martial order may pose, so they refuse to grant it any opening. The fact you have not been erased on the empire’s soil is not because they lack the power to crush the small, but because they wish to see whether a lone martial line can trouble the increasingly corrupt Buddhist and Taoist houses.”

Li Jun’s face hardened, his brow furrowed, as he waited silently for Xu’s continuation.

“You slew the Daoist sect of Qingcheng Mountain in Chengdu Prefecture, and the Shaolin and Dazhao itinerants in Chongqing Prefecture. Moreover, you forced a Prince of the Zhu house to die atop the Golden Tower. Though the victim was but a deluded golden canary trying to break its cage, few dare to breach that taboo.”

Xu smiled: “So far, your deeds have pleased them, which is why you still live.”

“Seems you know me well,” Li Jun’s eyes flashed with cold light.

“It’s them, not me.”

Xu corrected Li’s wording before continuing: “If I were like them, I would not be standing before you today. You are right about one thing: tonight we will both be very busy.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Li Jun asked, squinting.

“The elders.”

Xu paused, then added: “A cadre of ossified, undying old men.”

Li feigned sudden enlightenment, laughing: “So your purpose in seeing me is to have me help you send those elders off early?”

“You cannot yet, but perhaps you will in the future.”

Xu did not hide his aim: “But remember, it is not only I who wishes them buried swiftly, but we all! Our meeting is a joint resolution.”

Xu was not a lone man but the voice of a faction, one that owed allegiance to no house.

For their target was the houses themselves!

How intriguing.

Li raised his hand, urging Xu to go on.

Xu’s smile faded, replaced by a tone of disgust: “Those elders have sat upon their thrones far too long, long enough to believe they were born to dominate, forever gazing down on the masses.”

“Do you know how old the current Prime Minister is?”

His voice grew fierce as he thrust up three fingers at Li: “Nearly three cycles of sixty years! And he has done so without any external life‑extending elixirs, without transplanted organs, without mechanical limbs—maintaining his original flesh through those countless years!”

“Do you know how he achieved it?” Xu answered himself, excitement blazing in his brows: “A single decree that decides the life and death of ten thousand souls, a power that makes whole houses kneel, a gene that burns day and night in a fevered tide!”

“The Prime Minister of the Great Ming, Zhang Fengyue.”

Xu spoke each word with deliberate pause; Li sensed beneath his reverence a deep, almost unresolvable resentment.

“Many fools think he rose by luck in the ‘division of the martial ways,’ but only a few know he spent fifty years in concealment, biding his time. Even before he assumed the premiership, he had silently claimed the summit of the third Confucian tier as head of the New Donglin Academy.”

“The old steed lies in the stable, yet still dreams of a thousand‑mile journey; the aged hero, though waning, still burns with undimmed zeal.”

Xu’s voice rose like a chant: “Now Zhang Fengyue truly holds the second Confucian rank, not the rumored third. Yet even he approaches the final flicker of his dwindling flame.”

“Zhang does not wish to die; he longs to stand on the eastern rocks, watching the seas rise and fall. Thus he resolutely pushes new reforms, seeking a sliver of chance to break the lock and ascend. He wishes to live beyond the halls of power, to dwell in the hearts of the people, immortal through the ages.”

A fervor surged from Xu’s eyes, his words fierce, while Li felt a chilling sting, instinctively clenching his blade tighter. Only the sword seemed to grant him steadiness.

“Why do the Twelve Sequences of the Three Teachings clash? Is it merely to perpetuate their genes? Of course not!”

At that moment Xu resembled a great scholar debating doctrine, each syllable resonant and forceful.

“If it were so simple, the Spring‑and‑Autumn era could have fostered a Hundred Schools’ flourishing among ten‑thousands of peoples. The Great Ming now houses millions—why must we grind each other to death? Let the populace’s thoughts grow wild, and a hundred, even a thousand, sequences will be nourished.”

“Alas, human nature is selfish by birth.”

A strange light flashed across Xu’s face; he spread his arms, fists clenched, and proclaimed: “The Three Teachings and the Nine Currents fight for destiny! To stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with the nation, to walk alongside history. Not a lifespan shortened by shifting rivers, but a power that can tint heaven and earth with a gesture. To become immortal, to be a Buddha, to transcend mortal bounds!”

“The martial order is short‑sighted, obsessed with a century’s fleeting vendettas and petty grudges; thus the world divided the martial ways, and all who wield them are hunted. Their yearning to forge true from false drives them beyond the mortal realm, only to be cast out of the golden millet and never recover.”

“The agrarians see the world as themselves, the legalists base themselves on the people’s hearts, the military‑ink schools await new techniques, and the rest need not be mentioned. The only disruptive ‘vertical‑horizontal’ sequence has long lost its stage, now reduced to bandits and clowns. Hence the three houses born of consuming the people—Confucian, Buddhist, Taoist—can unite and claim the throne of the Three Teachings.”

Xu stared at Li: “This is the true chaos, a genuine Ming, a absurd world! What you see is but the tip of an iceberg; the real spectacle lies not in these desolate mountains but within the empire!”

* * *

Li exhaled a long, murky breath. Xu’s words were hard to verify, yet even a glimpse was enough to shake his spirit.

Sensing Li’s slightly dazed gaze, Xu’s heart quickened and he pressed on: “You have great potential, and more importantly, you possess loyalty and righteousness. Those qualities we value. We invite you to ride the wind and surf the waves with us!”

“Loyalty and righteousness?”

Li did not rush to agree as Xu expected; he smiled calmly: “Perhaps that phrase should be read as ‘having levers easy to grasp’?”

“We will not bind anyone’s freedom, nor will we, like Zhou Heyu and his ilk, use Confucian seals to control thoughts.”

Xu restrained his impatience, smiling slowly: “They are a party that suppresses dissent; we seek harmony amid difference.”

“Don’t dress yourselves in lofty righteousness—your goal is also to oust those people and take their seats, isn’t it?”

Having seen countless foxes’ tricks, Li was no longer a naïve fledgling. After a brief daze he regained composure, unmoved by Xu’s words.

“Power is merely a tool we need in our development, not our ultimate aim. The New Donglin Party is utterly corrupt; it needs a thorough reform, a swift scalpel to excise the rot, not a continuation of decay.”

Xu sighed admiringly: “I respect Pei Xingjian; he is a forerunner for us. Alas, he is old now, his methods too extreme. His solitary path only invites death.”

Li replied coldly: “Whether the New Donglin Party decays or renews, that is an internal Confucian matter—I have no interest.”

“But you can no longer stay out of it!”

Xu’s voice grew solemn: “The martial order, having lost all its foundations, spawned a ‘lone‑wolf’ branch, hoping to revive itself through unrivaled individual prowess. You know how hard that road is.”

“I told you earlier, they will give the martial order no further chance to rise. Your deeds have earned you attention, but they see you merely as a tool. When the Japanese District matter ends, your value will be spent. Letting it continue would be like raising a tiger that will later bite. Those high‑ranking elders only want obedient citizens, not unruly rebels.”

“The Japanese District will enter a new phase, and the Great Ming will experience another revival. The world flows like a torrent; we cannot help but be swept. Li Jun, if you wish to break your shackles, you must join us—only we can help you.”

His voice softened, bearing an irresistible lure: “Don’t you want to see them frantic with rage? Don’t you wish one day to press your blade to their throats, yank their collars, drag them from their lofty perches and sit in their place?”

“You read my mind; of course I do.”

This time Li answered without hesitation, smiling openly.

In Xu’s slightly stunned stare, Li rose, his murderous intent suddenly boiling over.

“But I have no interest in their positions, nor in your ambitions; I only wish to ask them one thing.”

Li Jun’s eyes blazed like torches, holding both a heroic grandeur and a bandit’s ruthless glint.

"I intend to ask them myself—have they ever heard the name Zhao Ding? Do they know who Kuang Qingyun is, who Yan Bahuang is? Do they know what they lived for, and why they died?"

"Ascending to immortality, attaining Buddhahood, becoming patriarchs?"

Li Jun’s expression was one of haughty disdain: "Even if they truly become those celestial immortals, I will carve these living, breathing names onto their bodies, stroke by stroke, with my own hands."

Such laughable, tragic chivalry of the martial world—it seems even a massacre wasn't enough to teach them obedience.

The martial hierarchy of the old sects was like this; the lone wanderer's code of today remains the same.

A surge of emotion rose in Xu Haichao’s chest; he couldn't help but shake his head, letting out a hollow laugh.

As for the names Li Jun mentioned, not a single one lingered in his mind for even a moment.

"Though I can roughly guess the answer, I still want to ask you one thing—by what right?" Xu Haichao’s tone was dripping with contempt.

*Clang!*

The word fell, and a blade’s hymn erupted violently.

The answer was self-evident.

"So you intend to refuse our goodwill, insisting on being a lone pawn crossing the river with no way back?"

All amusement vanished from Xu Haichao’s face; his gaze met Li Jun’s, calm and level.

"It seems our assessment of you had some margin of error. Or perhaps my timing in appearing now was ill-chosen. You have yet to realize what it truly means to have the world as your enemy, what it means to face a despair with nowhere to hide. That is why you would refuse the precious hope we offer for the sake of so-called debts, grudges, and honor."

"However, we will not shut the door on you entirely because of a single moment of ignorance."

Xu Haichao’s figure began to fade: "Wait until tonight, when the dust settles. When you have witnessed that irresistible despair with your own eyes, your mind should change."

"Come to Edo Castle. Do not miss the final climax."

The intertwining light gradually withdrew, leaving only a single head, smiling as it slowly dissipated, gazing at Li Jun’s cold, stern face.

"When the curtain falls on this play, you and I will be brothers within the Spring-Autumn Assembly."