Chapter 655: Rotten and Filthy Confucians

Chapter 655: Rotten Stench of Confucian Scholars Jiangxi Guangxin Prefecture, Longhu Mountain. The incense smoke was thick like a great white mist enveloping the whole mountain; ordinary people walking within could not see three feet beyond the rocks and vegetation. Intermixed with the chanting of sutras, which never ceased, as if possessing a strange power that could calm the climbers' hearts. Yan Dongqing gazed afar, long fixated on the strange sight appearing before his eyes. It was a peak top floating amidst the incense smoke, its base smooth as a mirror, as if a heavenly being had wielded supreme power to cleave Longhu Mountain with a sword. Lush vegetation covered the summit, Daoist temples' corridors interlocked, vermilion walls layered, and amidst them blossomed a mechanical lotus of intricate construction, its entire body inscribed with azure Daoist patterns—a Daoist ancestral artifact Yan Dongqing had never heard of, terrifying in size, over a li in diameter, its nine lotus petals adorned with the celestial star chart; even under the bright blue sky one could glimpse the flickering starlight within. Yet such a colossal object was now being held aloft in someone's palm. The holder's hair was white as frost, yet his face bore the youthful innocence of a child; his eyes were like mountains, and at this moment he lowered his gaze to look at Yan Dongqing. At the instant their eyes met, Yan Dongqing's ears seemed to hear thunder explode, his heart shuddered, his viscera trembled, as if a deity in the high heavens had commanded him to kneel immediately, abandon Confucianism for Daoism. An invisible pressure filled heaven and earth; Yan Dongqing felt himself like a tiny boat in a raging storm, liable to be overturned by waves at any moment. As he struggled to resist, a bead of sweat slid from his temple into his eye, the sudden sour sting making him blink involuntarily. His vision darkened for an instant, and the fearsome figure had vanished without a trace. Only the peak top remained, still drifting amidst the thick incense. 'Dao Order Two, Position of the Heavenly Sovereign.' Yan Dongqing murmured to himself, the sweat soaking the back of his robes, a bone‑deep chill coursing through his limbs. 'Longhu Mountain's Celestial Master's residence, Liang Gongming, acting on the orders of the Celestial Master Zhang, has come specially to greet Chief Yan.' A gentle voice drew Yan Dongqing from this soul‑shaking intimidation; he withdrew his gaze and looked forward. Liang Gongming bowed slightly, his round face smiling warmly and affably. 'I never expected the Celestial Master Liang himself to receive me; I am truly honored.' 'Chief, no need for such ceremony.' Liang Gongming smiled, eyes narrowed: 'On this Longhu Mountain there is only one True Celestial Master; all others are merely disciples attending Zhang Celestial Master, unworthy of the title. If Chief does not mind, you may address me by my personal name.' 'I have been presumptuous.' Yan Dongqing returned the salute with clasped hands: 'Yan Dongqing of the Spring and Autumn Society, I have come to pay respects, Daoist Liang.' 'No blame for ignorance, Chief Yan, please.' Liang Gongming gestured with an inviting hand, walking side by side with Yan Dongqing. 'Since the enthronement of Emperor Jiaqi, years have passed; Chief Yan is the first high‑ranking Confucian to ascend Longhu Mountain—a matter of great significance, Longhu Mountain shines anew!' 'Daoist, you flatter me; I am hardly a Confucian luminary, at most a scholar unwilling to sink with the tide.' 'Alas, Chief, you need not be modest—to establish a new party outside the all‑powerful New Donglin faction is no ordinary feat. Though I am not of the Confucian order, each time I think of your undertaking I am filled with admiration, bowing my body in reverence.' 'Not at all, not at all. Rather, I admire how you led your disciples out of Shu, breaking through encirclement, enduring blood‑shed, and slaying three legal‑order adepts—a feat that truly impresses me.' As they exchanged meaningless pleasantries, the voices from the incense‑like mist grew louder and livelier. 'Today the incense is unusually thick.' Liang Gongming muttered, flicked his sleeve forward. The incense mist parted, revealing a vast open space over a hundred zhang long and wide. In the square stood a towering cauldron over ten zhang high, its mouth belching rolling smoke, yet surprisingly not choking; instead a strange pure fragrance entered the nose, instantly relaxing mind and spirit. Thousands of futons encircled the cauldron, many devotees seated cross‑legged, their feet linked by threads that extended into the Yellow Liang Cave Heaven, where they lay dreaming, expressions blissful and intoxicated. Liang Gongming seemed intent on taking no detour, leading Yan Dongqing straight through the cultivating crowd. Upon approaching, Yan Dongqing instantly felt the surrounding space grow viscous, as if wading through a swamp, with countless dreams simultaneously ending and beginning around him. Besides, there rang a series of cracking sounds like shattering jade bottles—sequential, echoing. The Daoist halls lining the square were equally packed, yet compared to the incense crowd outside, those qualified to enter the halls for practice were evidently stronger, of better aptitude, their ranks mostly at level six or above. Although no talismans or Daoist implements were seen along the way, this small corner already revealed the formidable strength of the new Daoist order. 'Such a splendid sight on Longhu Mountain truly makes the heart soar.' Yan Dongqing did not conceal his envy, praising: 'An earthly Daoist kingdom, truly deserved!' 'They are merely children who have learned only a few superficial Daoist tricks; their present state is wholly due to the grace of Elder Celestial Master Zhang, a superficial brilliance. When they meet genuine practitioners who have fought their way up from the ranks, their true nature will be exposed at once. Perhaps in time a few capable successors may arise, but for now they are not worth mentioning.' 'Daoist, you are too modest.' Liang Gongming stroked his beard, smiling: 'Not speaking of them, I have heard that Chief Yan, within the Yellow Liang, personally drew a blueprint of a Confucian state. I wonder if I might be granted the chance to enter and observe, to experience its customs and sentiments?' 'You speak too late, Daoist; my Confucian state has already been sunk by Lord Li Jun into the deep abyss of the Nether Sea, shattered and fragmented.' Yan Dongqing's expression remained calm, as if speaking of something unrelated to himself. 'These lawless madmen truly deserve death!' Liang Gongming exclaimed in anger, then soothed: 'Nevertheless, Chief, do not let it trouble you; it is merely a dream. With your abilities you could certainly forge in reality a true Confucian state second to none.' 'Easier said than done,' Yan Dongqing sighed suddenly. 'Turning a dream into reality is no easy task.' 'All beginnings are hard; now Chief has taken the most difficult step, drawing a clear line with the narrow‑minded Emperor Jiaqi. If you successfully pass the present obstacle, the Spring and Autumn Society will shed its shackles, become truly independent, and emerge as a legitimate new party. Then, with your renown now deeply rooted in the people, taking the seat of Confucian Order Two's chief will be as easy as turning one's hand.' Liang Gongming continued: 'The Six Arts of Confucianism, rites being foremost. If Chief can ascend to Order Two through rites, even Zhang Fengyue would have to retreat three lodgings and submit.' Yan Dongqing smiled bitterly: 'Daoist, please stop teasing me; I am now merely a desperate wanderer. Had the Celestial Master not shown mercy, I would have long lost this head.' 'If good and evil go unrewarded, heaven and earth must be partial. Chief, you have provoked Li Jun's mad demon only because you upheld justice and righteousness. Though Daoism prizes quiet non‑action, it will never stand by while demons ravage the good and loyal.' Liang Gongming's words rang firm: 'Now that the Celestial Master has granted you leave to ascend the mountain, that already shows his stance. Your safety, Longhu Mountain will guarantee to the end. Would Li Jun dare to storm Longhu Mountain even if he were mad?' 'The Celestial Master's righteousness, Yan Dongqing is eternally grateful.' 'Upholding the true Dao, Longhu Mountain cannot shirk its duty.' One felt grateful tears; the other felt righteous indignation. At this moment the two seemed to have simultaneously forgotten what had just occurred in this Guangxin Prefecture not long ago. 'But... although the Celestial Master's kindness is as deep as the sea, I cannot be shameless; sooner or later I must descend the mountain.' Yan Dongqing spoke solemnly: 'As long as Li Jun lives, my heart will never find peace.' 'I naturally understand that.' Liang Gongming shook his head: 'Yet the martial order itself is an exceedingly difficult sequence, and besides, Li Jun is now the source of power, blessed by the martial order's fortune. To kill him is hard.' 'Your words, Daoist, I cannot agree with. At this very moment, killing Li Jun is not difficult.' 'What do you mean, Chief?'

“Master Dao, do you know that Li Jun has already entered Zhili?”

“I have heard of this matter.”

“At the Battle of Zhenlu Ting, I forged an irreconcilable feud with Li Jun. The news of my ascent to Longhu Mountain cannot be hidden from those with intent; Li Jun surely knows it, yet he has not come after me—why?”

Yan Dongqing asked and answered himself: “The reason is simple, as you said, Daoist—he dare not ascend Longhu Mountain, so he can only slaughter innocent members of the Spring and Autumn Society to bolster his reputation of loyalty and righteousness. Yet the Zhu family would never consent to that.”

Liang Gongming said nothing, merely listening quietly, nodding slightly in assent.

“The Spring and Autumn Society is vital to Emperor Jiaqi; it is the crucial instrument for fulfilling his cosmological rites. Unless utterly compelled, he will never relinquish it lightly. Should he and Li Jun break completely over the Society, Zhang Fengyue would lose any right to continue watching the spectacle.”

Upon these words, the smile that did not reach Liang Gongming's eyes finally flickered with a strange light.

“On one side lie the accumulated debts of years; on the other, the indispensable aid needed to fulfill his ambition. Zhang Fengyue is caught between them—no easy choice.”

Liang Gongming interjected abruptly: “No matter how many favors accumulate, there will always be a day to repay them.”

“Repaying them is no matter. Even a cornered rabbit will bite, and the Zhu family are no meek bunnies to be bullied; they are relentless avengers. For a century they have sharpened their blades day and night, so that one day they may slaughter each of us thieves who have stolen their wealth.”

Yan Dongqing laughed: “Thus, whichever side Zhang Fengyue chooses, the Confucian Order will inevitably suffer grave injury this time. Without the imperial house, the Order would split into two factions; without Zhang Fengyue, we could all rest easy.”

Liang Gongming, moved by feeling, sighed: “Chief Yan, eight or nine out of ten things in life go awry.”

“Man makes his own fate!”

Yan Dongqing said solemnly: “Now Li Jun and the Zhu family have reached a point of open confrontation; a slight push from behind will instantly ignite a life‑or‑death struggle.”

“How to push?”

“Take away what Li Jun values, and he will lose it. Daoist, you need not worry; this time I will take the credit, you need only exert effort.”

Yan Dongqing said: “If we lose, I will answer every grudge with my life; if we win, I will personally slay Zhang Fengyue, without troubling the Heavenly Master.”

“Chief Yan, when will the cycle of vengeance end?”

“Your words, Daoist, have suddenly awakened me. I recall that not long ago, a remnant of an old Daoist order ascended this Longhu Mountain.”

Yan Dongqing left it at that; Liang Gongming smiled without speaking.

“Such a great matter, this humble Daoist has no authority to decide.”

Liang Gongming chuckled, then asked abruptly: “May I ask, what will become of your followers, Chief?”

Yan Dongqing's expression unchanged, he spoke loudly: “I am here, and the Spring and Autumn Society remains. The dry bones make fine kindling; one blaze will forge a bright universe.”

Liang Gongming remained silent, his steps pausing.

“From now on, this humble Daoist cannot accompany you further; please, Chief, proceed on your own.”

The Daoist raised his hand, pointing to a ladder ahead; its straight rails rose into the clouds, leading to the floating golden summit.

“The Dao says: one who aids another in attaining the Way may also ascend to immortality; failing that, one remains bound to the world's cold and heat. Daoist, being from Shu, you may find Jiangxi's climate hard to endure.”

Yan Dongqing gazed deeply at him, said no more, strode purposefully into the ladder, heading for the exalted Ancestral Hall of Longhu Mountain.

Northern Zhili, Zhen Ding Prefecture.

The Zhao family's fortified tower.

“Yang Baize has already cleared eight whole family gates, nearly wiping out our influence in Southern Zhili. Now resentment fills the Society; accusations that we sit idle while doomed grow louder. If this continues, it will not be long before the hearts of the Spring and Autumn Society scatter.”

“Zhou Changji, did you come here just to tell me this?”

Zhao Ke sat in a grand chair, his gaze cold as he regarded Zhou Changji's projection.

“Zhao Ke, now is not the time for petty quarrels,” Zhou Changji frowned.

“We comrades walk different paths; I have no interest in arguing with you.”

Zhao Ke said lightly: “These years the Spring and Autumn Society has expanded rapidly, taking in too many pretenders; a few deaths would be good, otherwise where would we find places to build their Confucian state?”

“Later? Are you still thinking about later?”

Zhou Changji, hearing this ridiculous remark, narrowed his eyes: “Wei Sheng is already dead—do you not know?”

“Of course I know; so what? Do you think I fear that warrior?”

Zhao Ke sneered: “Zhou Changji, I am not like you low‑born folk.”

Zhou Changji fell silent for a moment, then a cold smile curled his lips.

“Is it not because Yan Dongqing privately promised you the safety of the Zhao household, giving you such confidence now? Do you think he will still come to protect you? Does he still have the power to do so?”

Zhao Ke's face darkened: “Zhou Changji, you have no right to utter the Chief's name!”

“Then what should I call him? A clothed beast who sells friends glory, faithless and shameless and shameless?”

Zhao Ke rose abruptly: “Insolent!”

“Stop the act; year after year you play the fool, feigning noble airs while being utterly incompatible with us, letting Yan Dongqing mediate and indulge his balancing machinations—do you not grow weary of even a hint of it?”

Zhou Changji said calmly: “Zhao Ke, you are not a fool; you should realize we are all now discarded pawns. To survive, we cannot rely on him—only on ourselves.”

Zhao Ke's eyes flashed cold: “Zhou Changji, do you intend to betray the Society?”

“Speak plainly; though I dislike you, your standing in the Society is not low, so you still have worth to live.”

Zhou Changji, uninterested in circling, got straight to the point: “Accept my Confucian seal, and I can spare your life.”

“I have long suspected a traitor among the Society's core members; I have doubted many, even my sworn brother Xu Haichao. Yet I never suspected you—do you know why?”

“Because your wretched life was saved by the Chief's own hand; your path was opened by him personally. And yet you turn out to be the very traitor hidden deepest of all!”

Zhao Ke said with contempt: “Are you Zhang Fengyue, or a man of Jiaqi? Do you deserve to have me accept your Confucian seal?”