Chapter 699: What Must Be Done

Chapter 699: What Needs to Be Done

"In this city, everywhere are Shi Qing's great swans and Zhan Shun's millet dreams; we have little time, so let's keep it brief."

Zhang Siyuan didn't exchange many pleasantries with Yang Bai Ze; after giving the disheveled Shang Lu a quick once-over, he got straight to the point about the causes and consequences of the city's rebellion.

"After the various clans stationed people in the coastal prefectures, the infiltrating great swans fell silent for a while. It seemed the earlier disturbances were merely the Zhu family testing the Premier's bottom line, not that they truly had the gall to turn against us."

Yang Bai Ze's face showed a wry smile: "But just twelve hours ago, all means of external contact via the 'millet' were suddenly cut off, followed by a surge of millet-ghost possessions of ordinary civilians."

"These millet-ghosts gathered in groups and began to assault the yamen with self‑explosions. The Confucian order clans tasked with defending the city ignored Lord Li's orders and fled, while the lurking great swans swooped in, burning, killing, looting, and slaughtering indiscriminately."

Zhang Siyuan frowned: "Lord Li is a Third‑Rank Confucian of the 'Imperial Arts'; even if he couldn't suppress the turmoil, he wouldn't be so easily killed, would he?"

"The legal order tasked with protecting Lord Li has rebelled, and the military order's Six Strategies are colluding from inside and out."

This time the reply came not from Yang Bai Ze but from Shang Lu.

Shang Lu rasped: "Under siege, Lord Li was ambushed and gravely wounded, then struck down by Zhu Ping Xu."

"Huh"

Zhang Siyuan exhaled heavily; the situation wasn't complex—the rebellion's cause was clearly the Zhu family and Zhan Shun reaching an agreement and joining forces to stir things up.

"In that case, Lord Li's corpse is still in the yamen, isn't it?"

As he spoke, Zhang Siyuan turned and set off.

What he intended to do went without saying.

"Even if he were there, it would be a trap deliberately laid by the great swans, waiting for you to walk right into it."

Yang Bai Ze gazed at that retreating figure, his voice urgent: "Lord Li is already dead—I saw it with my own eyes. You shouldn't risk your life over this! What we urgently need to do now is"

"The situation has already rotted to this state—what urgent matter could there still be?" Zhang Siyuan said without turning back.

"At the very least, we shouldn't just throw our lives away like this."

But after just a single day, a thick beard of blue‑black stubble sprouted on Yang Bai Ze's lips, making his true age hard to guess. His robes were stained with blood, his left arm empty, yet the light in his eyes had not dimmed in the slightest.

"Your life matters greatly to those of us who still wish to follow the Premier."

"What life? Is it just because I am Zhang Fengyue's son that my existence is so precious it cannot suffer the slightest loss? Yang Bai Ze, you are mistaken."

Zhang Siyuan's steps halted abruptly, then he continued slowly: "Liu Jinxun can die, Gao Sheng can die, Li Bu Feng can die—so many Confucian youths can die—why is it that only the Zhang family must not die?"

Zhang Siyuan turned his head, his handsome face lit with a carefree smile: "Let me tell you plainly—I came here today on purpose to give up my life."

Yang Bai Ze's body shuddered; he dared not meet Zhang Siyuan's calm, steady eyes, lowering his gaze to grip the Wei Wu dagger in his right hand.

"There's no need for you to prove anything with your life; we all believe the Premier did everything not for himself."

"Just your understanding isn't enough—I need everyone to understand. An old man whose face is already being covered by loess, clearly not tormenting himself for his own sake, yet still being stabbed in the back in secret—he can endure it, but I, as his son, cannot."

Zhang Siyuan turned to face the bowed, silent Yang Bai Ze.

"Though we haven't interacted much, Uncle Pei mentioned you many times in my presence, nagging until my ears were practically calloused."

Zhang Siyuan whispered: "He is a cold‑exterior, warm‑interior, brooding type; I can see you are his proudest student, so you must not die. If you die, his spirit will scatter."

"You just said anyone could die, but now you say I can't—what's the logic? Are you suggesting that a low‑rank Confucian from a humble background like me could be worth more than you, the greatest playboy of the Great Ming Empire?"

"Of course you would be worth more than me."

Zhang Siyuan nodded solemnly: "Among the Six Arts of the Confucian order I studied archery—good enough for killing, but otherwise I accomplished nothing. You are different; the future shape of the world will depend on those of you who study the 'Ritual Arts' to guide it."

"Are you Shang Lu of the Shang family?"

Without waiting for Yang Bai Ze to speak further, Zhang Siyuan turned his head to the blood‑soaked legal‑order man beside him.

"I can understand your legal order hedging bets on both sides; the Confucian order does the same sort of thing—everyone's hands are dirty, so you needn't feel guilty. But since you didn't kill Yang Bai Ze, it shows you still remember the old man's kindness, so I now ask you for one favor."

"Shang Lu will exert himself to the utmost."

"Head west; when I entered the city I cleared that direction of great swans and millet‑ghosts, so following the refugee crowd should let you escape safely."

Zhang Siyuan said in a low voice: "Help me get this boy out of the city safely."

Shang Lu lowered his eyes: "Yes."

"Alright, then let's not dawdle—otherwise those hyenas will catch the scent and come after us again, causing trouble."

Zhang Siyuan strode off, but after only a few steps he suddenly stopped.

"Damn it, I still can't keep it in."

Zhang Siyuan muttered under his breath, then turned to look at Yang Bai Ze and said: "There's something I still want to ask you."

"Huh?"

"Don't you think the old man sending Lord Li here was tantamount to sending him to his death—just like with Gao Sheng? If he hadn't been kept in North Zhili, under Zhu Yi Yan's watch, perhaps he wouldn't have died at all."

Zhang Siyuan's expression was complex: "I don't understand why the old man did this. If he was certain the Zhu family wouldn't move, why go to all the trouble of arranging this? But if he knew the Zhu family would eventually turn against us, then isn't he leaving Lord Li and Gao Sheng to their fate?"

"I don't understand either,"

Yang Bai Ze fell silent for a moment, then continued softly: "But I believe you can see it, and those elders can see it too. Even knowing they will die, they still act without hesitation. Perhaps, like you, they feel that death is more important than life."

"That sounds reasonable, but I still don't get it. Clearly we are all Confucians, and in daily life we repeat that a gentleman does not stand beneath a dangerous wall; yet when the moment comes, everyone seems afraid of living longer than others."

"If I had a son, I would certainly make him walk the martial path—better to die honorably than to live weakly."

As Zhang Siyuan muttered to himself, he did not linger; his figure flickered and vanished from sight.

Smoke billowed across the city, the air thick with the acrid stench of burning.

Yang Bai Ze looked out over a landscape of ruin, corpses strewn everywhere along the roads.

Just as Zhang Siyuan had said, the great swans and millet‑ghosts of the entire western district seemed to have been cleared out by him; the ruined streets were unusually quiet.

All the way, Yang Bai Ze and Shang Lu encountered no enemies, nor any fleeing civilians—it was as if the whole city had been emptied by slaughter.

"If something unexpected happens later, don't hesitate—run as fast as you can. I will do my best to buy you time."

Shang Lu did not relax his vigilance because of this; he narrowed his eyes, scanning the surroundings, occasionally wiping the crimson trickle from his nose.

"Life and death are fate; wealth and honor are heaven's decree."

Unlike Shang Lu's cautiousness, Yang Bai Ze now appeared unusually relaxed, smiling: "If we can get out, then our lives are big; if we can't, it's no great loss—dragging a few backs along counts as something."

"No, I promised Lord Zhang I would get you safely out of the city."

Faced with Shang Lu's stubborn attitude, Yang Bai Ze could only smile helplessly.

"Brother Lu, we've now become comrades who have shared life and death; I have a few things I still don't understand."

"Go ahead."

Yang Bai Ze watched the figure leading the way ahead and asked: "Where have your legal order people been all these years?"

"The vast majority were dispatched to the distant penal colonies beyond the imperial heartland; only a small number who refused to leave stayed behind, serving in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, though they were posted in prefectures that are not strongholds of the Confucian order."

Yang Bai Ze realized—indeed, only thus could the frail legal order avoid persecution by the Confucian order.

Otherwise, given the centuries‑old grudge between these two branches, even with Lord Fengyue's protection, the clans would surely find pretexts to provoke conflict.

"What is your relationship with Shang Gu?" "He is my paternal uncle and the originator of today's legal order. For years he has remained at the Premier's side, secretly safeguarding his safety."

"It seems he wants to make something clear," Shang Lu emphasized, "he is not some utterly wicked villain. On the contrary, he has always respected and been grateful to the old man. He simply does not agree with the notion of penetrating heaven and earth, nor does he believe the Premier can ultimately achieve that goal, which is why he chose to betray."

Shang Lu's voice rumbled like distant thunder: "But he isn't doing it for himself either, but for the entire legal order."

Yang Bai Ze exhaled a ragged breath, his heart neither dismissive nor condescending toward Shang Lu's words. They weren't mere excuses spun to honor the elders.

Long ago, he had walked this same path.

"I wonder if Luo knows my background. Truth be told, I've always loathed the Confucian order with all my heart—my family was slaughtered by the clans."

"It's not that our family hid some priceless treasure. Just a slice of brain tissue, stored for who knows how many years. Is this thing valuable?"

Yang Bai Ze shook his head: "In my current view, it's worth nothing. Even if someone handed it to me on a silver platter, I'd still look down upon it."

"But at that time, my grandfather and uncle, to preserve even this tiny slice, deliberately tore themselves apart—he, leading his family to die in rebellion; she, humbly kneeling to guide those brigands. I once didn't understand why they did this. Now, with more experience, I gradually grasp their reasoning."

Yang Bai Ze sighed: "As the saying goes, life is about fame and wealth. If one lives, they must chase either. But where on earth are there enough names and gains for everyone to fight over? As you said, the weak have no choice but to gamble for a thread of survival with their last breath."

"Under the sequence, we're all mere insects."

"Mere insects."

Shang Lu murmured the words, his back turned, his face a storm of emotions.

His eyes flickered with a thousand unspoken feelings.

The legal order, though seeming distant from strife, had merely crouched in shadows, hoarding strength to rebuild. In truth, they were just hiding, clinging to existence.

Weren't they themselves just bigger insects?

"So I believe Zhang Chancellor, willing to sacrifice his rank."

Shang Lu's words cut off abruptly, his clenched hand trembling.

Yang Bai Ze followed his gesture, spotting two small figures in the dark corner of the ruins.

"Brother, it hurts."

"Hurt? Endure it! If you pull this out, you'll turn into a ghost!"

Under the dim light, sweat streamed down the youth's forehead like rain, yet he dared not wipe his eyes, gripping a dagger to slice open the skin behind the girl's neck.

Yang Bai Ze could see clearly: the boy was clumsily carving away the brain mechanism embedded there.

The crude blade tore through flesh and blood, pain twisting the girl's face pale as ink, tears streaming as she clenched her lips, silent.

Only the tiny mechanism was lifted by the blade, and the boy's tense expression slightly relaxed, his held breath finally released.

But to steady his heartbeat, a hint of sobbing escaped him, countless frustrations colliding against his eyelids.

As if venting, he grasped the bloodied mechanism to throw it away—only to be stopped by a trembling small hand grabbing his arm.

"Brother, you can't throw it. Dad spent so much money buying it. He said it's more important than his life."

"Dad's already..."

The boy's mouth twitched, unable to speak, falling silent. He lowered his arm, cradling the girl.

"Brother, why are we still human? Why did Dad kill Mother?"

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid."

The boy didn't know how to answer. He could only pat her hair with his cheek.

In an instant, his gaze caught two figures in the distance.

"Get lost! I'll kill you!"

The boy leapt up, dagger in hand, a frenzied tiger blocking the girl.

Unaware, a shadow loomed behind him.

"Criminal, surrender!"

The legal instrument struck, shattering his courage.

But as he fell, he forgot nothing—covering the girl with his body.

"Brother!!"

A splatter of blood.

The blade severed her neck; her head soared into the air.

Blood spraying, Shang Lu swept his legal instrument around, the footsteps surging like tides.

"Shang Lu, hand over the goods. The Yellow Porridge Legal Domain belongs to the entire legal order, not your Shang family!"

"Scum!"

Shang Lu glared at the familiar faces hiding among the Yellow Porridge ghosts, his eyes burning.