Chapter 717: Extra 1: The Mohist Green Knight

Chapter 717, Extra One: The Mohist Azure Knight

“Date: The third day of the second month, in the third year of the New Calendar.”

“Location: Chongqing Prefecture.”

“Recorder: Lin Jiang of the Miscellaneous Order.”

After a brief introduction, Lin Jiang appearing on the screen had changed his appearance.

Once a thick mane of hair, now clean‑shaven, his lips adorned with a luxuriant beard; his bearing was rugged yet devoid of any savage bandit air, his gaze exceptionally gentle, refined and courteous.

“Dear viewers, it has been a long time since we met like this.”

Lin Jiang smiled and said, “Over this period I have been painstakingly crafting the ‘Order‑Bright Sole Martial’ yellow‑millet dream; I have now completed a preliminary draft and am conducting final runtime tests. I believe that soon this dream will go live within the Yellow Millet realm, to meet you all.”

“But this time I am not here to share the details of that dream; I am continuing a major undertaking I left unfinished three years ago. Some of you may have guessed it—yes, it is the ‘Jiangjiang Miscellaneous Talk’ program you have all been keen on.”

“Three years have passed, and as the inaugural episode of this show’s revival, today’s guest is weighty enough to astonish everyone.”

The view shifted, revealing a handsome face brimming with heroic vigor.

“Zhao Juzi, come greet everyone.”

“Old Brother Lin, don’t tease me. I am merely a Fourth Order of the Mohist; I dare not bear the title ‘Juzi’.”

Clad in simple black robes, Zhao Qingxia sat in a grand chair, waved at the screen, and chuckled, “Hello, friends of the Jiangjiang Miscellaneous Talk; I am Zhao Qingxia of the Mohist Academy.”

“You remain as modest as ever; everyone in the Bright Lands knows you are the destined successor of ‘Juzi’, the future wellspring of the Mohist Order—addressing you as ‘Juzi’ now is entirely fitting.”

Lin Jiang conversed with ease, his demeanor untroubled by Zhao Qingxia’s current power and stature.

“But since you still decline the title ‘Juzi’, may I boldly call you ‘Qingxia’? Would that be acceptable?”

Zhao Qingxia smiled and nodded, “Old friends catching up—exactly as it should be.”

“Very well.”

Lin Jiang asked, “It has been three whole years since that earth‑shaking battle at Jinling; how have you fared these past three years, Qingxia?”

“Busy.”

Zhao Qingxia heaved a deep sigh, “And weary at heart.”

“Busy—this we understand well. For now a new wave of technical arts sweeps the land; the Mohist Academy innovates, launching numerous research projects, and in short order has devised many convenient boons for the people.”

Lin Jiang praised, “Especially the ‘Myriad Dream Return Derivation’ you co‑developed with the Peace Inn, which has lowered the chance of a Yellow Millet ghost appearing to one in ten thousand, and only after ten thousand cycles of the dream timeline does a single such ghost arise—truly astonishing.”

“As the current head of the Mohist Academy, you bear the weight of the whole, naturally occupied with myriad affairs; busyness is inevitable.”

Lin Jiang shifted tone, smiling, “Then why do you feel weary at heart? Could there be something we do not know?”

“It is no secret; everyone should know. After the Four Orders converged, the four elders of east, south, west, and north withdrew, refusing worldly affairs. The Bright Ghost lineage hardly partakes in any research or promotion. Thus, though the Mohist Academy boasts many technical talents, those skilled in coordination and management are exceedingly rare. As disputes over resource allocation and material gathering between project teams multiply, mediation becomes arduous, leaving me feeling drained in both mind and body.”

Zhao Qingxia adopted a solemn tone, “Therefore, here today I also wish to use this opportunity on the Jiangjiang Miscellaneous Talk to issue a recruitment call to all regions of the Bright Lands. Whether you belong to the Mohist Order or not, whether you possess research ability or not, as long as your past record is clean and you have never joined the Honghu, Liutao, or Chunqiu societies, you may apply to join our Mohist Academy, with remuneration uniformly preferential!”

As his words fell, the document hovering between Zhao Qingxia and Lin Jiang began to tremble incessantly; the surrounding air faintly seethed, carrying a murmur of confused voices.

It seemed countless souls were watching this dialogue through the Yellow Millet, stirred by Zhao Qingxia’s recruitment call, flocking eagerly.

“It appears that many in the Bright Lands remain interested in our Mohist Academy—and rightly so, for the Academy is now a famed power in the realm; joining it brings manifold benefits.”

Lin Jiang laughed, “Please, hold your excitement for now; after I finish speaking with Qingxia, I will release the dream‑gate to the Mohist recruitment, and you may enter as you wish.”

“Still, since we have come this far, let us sincerely thank Brother Qingxia for finding time amid his busy schedule to meet us. That the venerable leader of the Mohist Order could be so affable and approachable is surely a surprise to many viewers.”

“In truth, my motive is not so simple.”

Zhao Qingxia jested, “Legend has it that anyone or anything recorded by Elder Brother Lin will thereafter enjoy heavenly favor and flourishing fortune; so I do not fear your teasing—I too came hoping to catch a bit of that glow.”

“You need not be so blunt about it.”

Lin Jiang gave a wry smile, “According to interviewee feedback, life does tend to run smoother after appearing on our Jiangjiang Miscellaneous Talk. But to claim ‘heavenly blessing’ is pure rumor; if I truly possessed such power, I would have long since erected a shrine to enshrine myself.”

“Even a little of that would already be shocking enough.”

“Just petty gossip, not worth mentioning.”

Lin Jiang waved his hands repeatedly, then shifted the topic: “Let us return to the main matter. I wish to ask about a subject many friends now care deeply about, though it may be somewhat sensitive—I am not sure…”

Zhao Qingxia raised a hand in gesture: “Ask away, no problem.”

“I want to ask: does the Mohist Academy have any further plans for expansion?”

Lin Jiang spoke gravely, “Of course, I harbor no particular ulterior motive, nor am I probing the Academy’s inner secrets. But you know, Qingxia, since the demise of Emperor Jiaqi, the Great Ming Empire has fractured, the old dynasty reduced to history. Now the Bright Lands teem with warring heroes: in Liaodong lies the Celestial Gap, in the north the Golden Tower, in Jiangnan the Scarlet Society, in the Central Plains the Mohist Academy, in the borderlands the Red Temple, while our southwestern region is led by the Peace Inn.”

“Besides, the clamor for rebuilding the Daoist Court grows ever louder, yet it is stalled because the primordial figure Chen Qisheng has not given his assent. Although the Soldier Order is presently looked down upon, it still commands the largest numerical base among the orders and will someday coalesce into a great power.”

Lin Jiang continued, “I do not mean to suggest that the various powers will inevitably clash. Yet it is undeniable that under heaven, great trends unite for long, then divide, then unite again—no one can halt this cycle. Thus we cherish these present days of peace all the more, urgently wishing to know how long tranquility may endure, hoping you, Qingxia, will understand.”

“Certainly I can understand. Therefore I can tell you all plainly: the Mohist Academy’s future development will focus on perfecting and expanding the Yellow Millet, with no intention or plan for any worldly expansion.”

Zhao Qingxia’s expression grew solemn, his voice pausing slightly as he added, “At least until my death, that will remain the case.”

“Then that is good.”

Lin Jiang drew a long breath, clasped his fists in salute, and said, “Here I presume to speak on behalf of all under heaven, offering my thanks to you and to the Mohist Academy.”

Zhao Qingxia returned the salute, “Mohist doctrine eschews aggression; peace has ever been the pursuit of the Mohist Order. Though we once lacked the power to rescue those plunged into fire and flood, we would never stoop to the vile act of driving people into the abyss.”

“Those words are enough.”

Lin Jiang’s face filled with emotion, “Time flies; in a blink three years have passed. I wonder, Qingxia, what feelings arise when you recall that battle at Jinling?”

“A lingering dread.”

Zhao Qingxia spoke succinctly, “I often find myself conjecturing in my heart, even once leading a research team to simulate: if that battle had ended with the Zhu family victorious, what would the Bright Lands look like now?”

“What would it be like?”

The trembling document steadied, as if myriad eyes were fixed upon it, holding their breath.

“If the Zhu family had won, we would now all be controlled by the arts of persuasion and strategy, stamped with mental imprints, thereafter regarding the Zhu clan as the radiant sun that illuminates all, kneeling in submission. Even in our dreams we would wear shackles, deprived of any liberty.”

Zhao Qingxia recalled the horrifying scenario from those simulations, furrowing his brow: “Between prefectures and counties there would rise impregnable barriers; the orders would become tools for the Zhu family to maintain rule, only the utterly loyal could qualify as their hounds and hawks, anyone who dared to break rank would find no burial place, while the rest would be mere cattle and sheep for others to slaughter.”

“After a century of this, Zhu Yiye would break into the One Universal Order of the Vertical and Horizontal, shattering the fetters set by his Zhu ancestors, thereafter sharing the state’s lifespan, the Bright People’s bloodline undying, granting him eternal life.”

There were yet more brutal details, which Zhao Qingxia did not elaborate.

But even this single point was enough to shake Lin Jiang’s heart and spirit.

After a long silence, he finally spoke with a hint of resentment: “Fortunately, in the end the Zhu family did not prevail.”

Having somewhat collected himself, Lin Jiang continued, “Then how do you view this ‘Yellow Millet Equilibrium’ destined to be recorded in history?”

“These matters are not the Mohist Order’s forte; I do not know what form this equilibrium will take in the future. Perhaps one day someone will recentralize power, again spawning the Yellow Millet will, seeking to enslave all under heaven—but at least for now it is good.”

Zhao Qingxia smiled faintly, “In merely three short years, the number of newly initiated followers in the Bright Lands has surpassed the total of the past sixty years. Given time, perhaps even newborn infants will innately possess the capacity of the orders.”

“This could be the dawn of a golden age, or the harbinger of an endless night.”

Faced with Lin Jiang’s worry, Zhao Qingxia remained noncommittal.

“Thus the future cannot be foreseen by anyone. Human hearts can wield power, and power can recoil upon the heart—this is an insoluble dilemma.”

Zhao Qingxia sighed, “Perhaps it is precisely for this reason that Elder Zhang, after accomplishing the great feat of the Yellow Millet Equilibrium, chose neither to install a new sovereign nor to found a dynasty in his own name, but instead withdrew from the world, leaving us to seek our own path forward.”

Lin Jiang ventured, “There are some ill‑meaning rumors that Elder Zhang withdrew his hand not out of disinterest, but because he was guarding against that person.”

Nonsense.

Zhao Qingxia shook his head, laughing, and spoke bluntly: "If Jun-ge really wants to taste the addiction of being emperor, I don't know about others, but the Ink Institute would certainly not oppose; I, Zhao Qingxia, would surely lead the charge, reins in hand."

Lin Jingjiang agreed: "Thus rumors can only be rumors, the malicious conjectures of ignorant folk."

"To be ignorant and yet dare to nurture malice is to court death."

Zhao Qingxia's tone turned cold; with a flick of his right wrist, a pocket‑sized blade the length of a finger slid from his sleeve, dancing at his fingertips, flashing cold light.

"From today onward, the Ming Gui lineage of the Ink Institute will seek out rumor‑mongers and spreaders within Huang Liang, without need for verification—summary execution."

A chill of frost spread, and Lin Jingjiang involuntarily shivered, his mind suddenly clearing.

The youth before him was no longer the former martial‑arts‑obsessed wanderer who liked to wear demon masks, play war songs, and rob the rich to aid the poor.

But the true lord of a region, wielding life and death, the chief of the Ink Order.

"He who gathers firewood for the many must not be left to freeze in the snow; indeed, we cannot allow these rumors to continue tarnishing the name of the departed."

Perhaps because Zhao Qingxia's killing intent was too terrifying, Lin Jingjiang hastily changed the subject.

"You said earlier, Qingxia, that you were very busy now; why then do you have time to slip away and come to Chongqing Prefecture?"

Zhao Qingxia gazed at Lin Jingjiang, who feigned ignorance, let the coldness fade from his demeanor, and pointed with his hand to the grand, mountain‑backed buildings behind him.

The documents manifested by Lin Jingjiang's miscellaneous‑order ability tilted slightly, framing the distant architecture in the view.

Red silk wound the railings, lanterns hung from the eaves, and the spirits projected into the air were the Old Man of the Moon holding a red thread, and Guanyin carrying a child.

A throng of Ink Order artisans bustled with fervent energy, evidently intending to renovate the newly built Peace Hotel from inside out.

"Of course, it's to attend the great joyous occasion of Jiu Jiu‑nine and our guardians."

Zhao Qingxia laughed: "This time I am a relative of the bride's family, so naturally I must come a day early to uphold the ceremony, lest others mock the Ink Institute's wedding as shabby."

"Who would dare entertain such a bold notion?"

Lin Jingjiang burst into laughter, the scene turning to face himself.

"Entrusted by the groom, I shall record this Qin‑Jin union in full; here I invite all friends and spectators—tomorrow at the xu hour, I will share via Huang Liang this hard‑won joy. May the good match endure forever, and may the bright earth rejoice together!"

"One final question."

Lin Jingjiang asked with a smile: "Do you think that person will appear this time?"