Chapter 336: Mountains and Rivers Do Not Ask About the Four Seasons! (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 336: The Mountains and Rivers Do Not Ask About the Seasons! (Seeking Monthly Votes)

Showing weakness.

Being weak in strength.

Whether from a subjective or objective standpoint, the Xiao family would inevitably draw countless admirers and a steady stream of troubles.

Just as the Liu family of Jingzhou and the Zhu family, led by Zhu Hao and Zhu Lingchuan, acted openly and in secret against the Xiao clan.

Just as the civil and military authorities of Shuzhou—the Administrative Bureau, the Military Commission, and the Provincial Surveillance Commission—all acted with open defiance and hidden malice toward the Xiao family.

Even the majority of officials in the imperial court down in Kyoto did not stand by the Xiao family.

As for the reasons behind all this, Chen Yi had a vague inkling, yet lacked a singular, decisive cause.

Or rather, he had long overlooked one person’s thoughts—the current Emperor himself.

In this world, after all, the Mandate of Heaven rests upon the ruler.

The Emperor reigns in solitary splendor in the capital, surveying the realm below, his word able to seal the fate of ten thousand families.

Could the Xiao family’s plight be tied to the rulers within the capital’s palace?

The answer is self-evident.

If that figure stood by the Xiao family—even merely speaking a word of justice—their condition would surely be far better than it is now.

In that case, the White Tiger Guard’s machinations in Shuzhou, their deliberate or inadvertent stirring of strife, their adding of obstacles to the Xiao family’s path, would make perfect sense.

Chen Yi even realized the reason why he and Chen Yunfan had come under the White Tiger Guard’s scrutiny.

—Through “him,” they could steer the course of the Xiao family.

—Through Chen Yunfan’s control of Shuzhou.

“This arrogant, learned man I am—imprisoned for five years, finally breaking free—even if I’m merely a mere son-in-law, wouldn’t he have seized this chance as his lifeline?”

It had to be so.

Chen Yi thought this silently.

“So I became ‘the fledgling.’ From the start, the White Tiger Guard, desperate for me to take root in the Xiao family, pushed me forward.”

“Only when I became a teacher at the Cloud Academy did they relax, believing I had begun plotting against the Xiao family—so they let their guard down.”

“Thus, Ge Lao III’s departure had nothing to do with the silver, nor with exposure risks—it was simply the inevitable retreat of one who had achieved his purpose.”

“But later…”

“Hmph. The Chen family of Jiangnan Prefecture, and the White Tiger Guard—they’re both blades in the current Emperor’s hand. My elder brother and I, however, are caught between those blades.”

“Held fast by that figure in Kyoto Palace, driving the blade straight into the soil of Shuzhou.”

“This game of Go… truly a spectacle of monumental force.”

A faint smile touched Chen Yi’s lips, his gaze as still as still water.

Tiny specks of luminescence flickered in his pupils, like pieces moving across a Go board.

As stars shifted and positions changed, more unassuming stones found their place upon the board.

Though far from the lower-left corner representing southwestern Shuzhou, they formed a single, dominant formation, as though claiming dominion over their own realm.

First, at the center—“Heavenly Peak”—stood the current Emperor of Dali, along with the myriad ministers of the court.

Second, occupying the lower-right corner, representing the southeastern quadrant, a stone marked the Chen family of Jiangnan Prefecture.

Third, at the northwestern star position, a stone signified the “Ji Zhou Merchant Guild.”

Fourth, at the northeastern star position, several stones of contrasting colors faced each other like opposing armies, yet bore no names or surnames.

Beyond these, scattered stones dotted the board around these key positions.

There was Sun Fu lao in Jinling, Zhang Xuan, Duke of Guangyang, stationed in his domain, and the prince of the Barbarian tribes, A Suotai, and Fu Wanqing, who remained in the heart of the wild lands.

Though scattered, these figures made Chen Yi’s mental map—a sprawling, endless expanse spanning ten thousand li, across the three prefectures of Dali—feel less desolate.

Chen Yi “gazed” upon the nascent board in his mind, the smile fading from his face, his eyes drifting toward the Spring Lotus Garden.

Beneath a veil of clouds, torrential rain poured down, withering the plants and trees, yet the golden carp in the pond thrived with vigor.

Splashing and churning, water sprayed in all directions.

“The mountains and rivers do not ask about the seasons; they rise and fall with the times.”

Chen Yi murmured this to himself, then smiled again, turning to Xiao Shidian:

“Prepare some tea and snacks. I’ll be making final preparations for the imperial examinations shortly.”

Xiao Shidian nodded, her expression easing.

She saw the smile on Chen Yi’s face and relaxed in response.

“Master, if you say Master is at ease, then Master is at ease, hehe.”

Chen Yi patted her head, chuckling: “I’m no immortal; I know not all things.”

After all, he was only a half-immortal.

Half-immortal?

Hmph. Such a title pales beside “Dragon and Tiger.”

When the two returned to the wooden pavilion, Chen Yi wiped himself dry and made his way to the study, picking up a text and flipping through its pages.

Yet his thoughts remained elsewhere, still sorting and calculating the affairs of Shuzhou and the Xiao family.

Following the incident with Liu Hong, Chen Yi had, at last, gained some insights.

Not trivial ones, either.

Beyond understanding the current Emperor, the Chen family of Jiangnan, and the White Tiger Guard’s schemes in Shuzhou, he had also acquired a few other things.

—Grain, silver, the Mount Tai sect, the Xiao family.

First, the grain reserves—approximately five hundred thousand sheng—had been hidden by Liu Rong and others in the forest pavilion.

Chen Yi left it be, figuring he’d find a chance later to “sell” it to the old patriarch of the Xiao family.

Next, two hundred and fifty thousand strings of silver from the Star of Will.

It seemed like a fortune, yet the expanding operations of the Bianhua Hall would require vast sums—large-scale expenditures, tight on funds.

Still, it would suffice to cover the costs of Shuzhou.

Then there were the disciples of the Mount Tai sect who had joined the Bianhua Hall.

After the Poisonous Flowers incident, Chen Yi had come to understand the bonds of kinship and allegiance, allowing him to arrange Wang Ji’s position as needed.

Lastly, the Xiao family.

In truth, Chen Yi’s decision to merely observe Liu Hong’s visit to the old patriarch had his own designs.

Through Liu Hong, he hoped to persuade the old patriarch of the Xiao family to abandon his restraint, at least to no longer naively expect “that person” to remember the Xiao family’s old affections.

Otherwise, how could a feeble, toothless tiger ever dare to act on their behalf?

How could they protect him, letting him lounge about as a mere son-in-law?

The outcome was obvious.

Old Master Xiao was outmaneuvered by Liu Hong’s ruthless tactics, personally executing Liu Hong and placing the Xiao family in an awkward position.

Thus, if he sought to conceal his actions, no one would grant him further opportunities.

He had but one path forward: to strengthen the Xiao family, and by any means necessary.

At the very least, he must restore the Xiao family’s former prominence from five years prior, so that those who had been probing their affairs would desist.

Chen Yi chose this path, driven by that very purpose.

Thinking this through, Chen Yi glanced briefly toward the window.

A curtain of rain hung in the air, and faintly, a figure sat aloft among the clouds, holding a black stone, poised to make his move.

Though his face remained unseen, that calm bearing was enough to command respect.

Were it not for Chen Yi’s complete mastery of the game, he might have hesitated even to meet the figure’s gaze, his hand trembling over the board.

“But who is this? The reigning emperor himself, or perhaps one of his most trusted aides?”

Chen Yi could not know.

All he knew was that his opponent held countless stones, backed by the emperor’s authority, the ministers of the court, the great clans of the realm, and the sects of the martial world—all at his disposal.

Their strength was fundamentally unequal.

Yet Chen Yi placed no faith in omens—for wherever his path had been uneasy, he would tear away a layer of skin from whoever caused it.

“Let me see this newly minted player—if he can lead the half-ruined Xiao family to victory in this game.”

After a pause, Chen Yi lowered his gaze, closed the scroll in his hands, and settled onto the Throne of the Patriarch, cultivating the Four Symbols Art. “The foundation of my cultivation at the fourth rank pales in comparison; I must swiftly ascend to the upper third rank.”

…

Liu Hong’s death thundered through the manor like an earthquake.

The Department of Civil Affairs.

Upon Li Huazu’s return, he immediately sought out Yang Zhe, who, along with the still-present Wu Ming and Chen Yunfan, were already aware of the matter.

Their expressions varied, all marked by complexity.

Yang Zhe, a long-serving official, understood all too well what Liu Hong’s recent oddities had signified, and had long harbored suspicions.

Yet he could not have imagined Liu Hong would meet his end in such a manner.

Wu Ming, too, shared this sentiment.

Only Chen Yunfan’s thoughts lay elsewhere—in Chen Yi.

“At last, Yi Brother’s schemes have succeeded. Liu Hong… what a shame.”

Though he had long known Chen Yi’s prowess, when the outcome unfolded as he had predicted, he could not help but marvel.

Had he himself been in Chen Yi’s position, he could not have even uncovered Liu Hong’s transgressions, let alone topple him.

“Brother, your visit to Shu Zhou this time should vindicate Yi Brother’s actions. At the very least… at the very least, he must not hold a grudge against our Chen family.”

Chen Yunfan held some faith in his brother, yet the five years Chen Yi had spent in prison still weighed heavily upon him.

Even a mere commoner imprisoned for five years would harbor resentment.

Silence fell.

Wu Ming rose first and spoke: “The matter is settled. I understand the root cause. Let us take the students back to the academy.”

Yang Zhe forced a smile: “Wu Ming, for now, keep this quiet. Otherwise, it may stir unrest in Shu Zhou.”

Wu Ming nodded, then shook his head: “Rest assured. I understand the situation.”

Such a matter could not be shared with many. At most, a few masters at the academy would be informed.

Yet he knew this was no small secret to keep. Within a day or two, those in Shu Zhou who needed to know would learn of it.

Wu Ming surveyed the hall, then sighed: “Thank the heavens the Department of Civil Affairs has an old ally in command.”

Yang Zhe muttered: “An old bone to hold things together, at least.”

When Wu Ming departed, Yang Zhe glanced at Chen Yunfan and Li Huazu, exhaled, and said:

“This matter, though great, does not affect us.”

Li Huazu looked at Chen Yunfan, who nodded solemnly, then hesitated, asking:

“Yang, after this, will everything remain as before?”

“Everything will remain as before.”

Yang Zhe inclined his head: “Old Master Xiao’s stubbornness in killing Liu Hong certainly caused great disturbance, but consider this: the officials from Duzhou came to capture Liu Hong, and for us, the outcome was the same.”

“The Department of Civil Affairs will inevitably lack a leader. For now, let each take their place, awaiting the emperor’s decree.”

Li Huazu nodded silently, his mind drifting once more to the scene he had witnessed in Qingqing Hall.

Gradually, the truth began to settle in his thoughts—Liu Hong had chosen to die.

Li Huazu recalled the words Liu Hong had spoken on his way to the Xiao family.

After a moment, Li Huazu recounted the tale, ending with a question: “Yang, what do you think—why did Liu… why did that man want to die at the hands of the Duke Xiao?”

Before Yang Zhe could continue, he raised his hand to interrupt, his voice grave:

“Liu Hong betrayed the state, sold out to enemies, and plotted to poison the people, plunging Shu Zhou into chaos. He was mad.”

“Such people’s thoughts and deeds differ from ordinary folk. Huazu, what use is it to uncover the cause?”

Chen Yunfan snorted from beside him: “Huazu, you don’t want the world to fall into chaos, do you?”

Li Huazu bowed his head, smiling: “Yang, Chen, forgive me. I bear no such thoughts. I merely cannot fathom why that man wished to die by the Duke’s hand.”

Chen Yunfan nodded at Yang Zhe, who smiled approvingly: “Liu Hong knew his death was inevitable. By provoking Old Master Xiao to kill him, he sought to make the Xiao family bear the emperor’s wrath.”

“Whether his goal would be achieved… that remains uncertain.”

He did not commit to a definitive answer, yet in his heart, he hoped the emperor might find a way to avert the disaster.

Otherwise, the Duke would suffer punishment, fulfilling Liu Hong’s death wish, and the world would rise in outrage.

Thinking this, Yang Zhe waved dismissively: “Back to your duties.”

“Yes, I shall withdraw…”

As Wu Ming had anticipated, news of Liu Hong’s death at the hands of Old Master Xiao spread swiftly to those who needed to know.

The manor was soon in turmoil.

The Xiao family reacted the quickest.

Xiao Shen, Xiao Xuanqiang, and other core members of the Xiao family were dispatched from the Duke’s residence by Old Master Xiao.

They visited the prominent families of the capital city in succession: the Wan family, the Sun family, the Tang family, and others.

Old Master Xiao, though cunning and calculating, could discern what was urgent and what was not.

After all, he had been forced to make a choice, and so he began to act with decisive authority, just as he once had when confronting the barbarian hordes and the armies of the foreign kingdom.

Since others refused to let him continue to hold his tongue, he could only strive with all his might.

The backhand moves he had previously arranged, the idle chess pieces, and those close ones he had ordered to remain silent—all needed to make their moves.

He sought to restore some semblance of his family’s prestige within a short span of time.

The Imperial Inspection Commissioner, Tang Zixun, received the news at once and wrote a memorial to the capital.

He even neglected to seek out Feng Erbao and the others to confirm their handling of Zhu Yao.

The White Tiger Guard was the first to learn of Liu Hong’s impending scheme.

This development naturally caused Xing Star to be struck with surprise.

Regardless of his thoughts, this matter needed to be conveyed to the Patriarch as swiftly as possible.

He could only hastily pen a secret letter and dispatch the Eagle Falcon to the capital.

At the same time, he sought out the two officials in the Provincial Judicial Office, Lou Yuxue and Cui Qingwu, and informed them of the situation.

“Liu Hong’s sudden death—his comrades must be questioned and their signatures obtained at once. The Patriarch requires the results.”

Lou Yuxue agreed wholeheartedly, knowing at last that this matter had reached its conclusion.

Cui Qingwu, however, furrowed her brows and inquired, “What impact does Liu Hong’s death have on Shouzhou?”

Her question struck a direct chord, yet inwardly she merely feared it might affect Chen Yunfan.

Xing Star had read her thoughts and shook his head. “Not yet; we’ll have to wait for the Patriarch’s elder to issue an edict.”

Based on his understanding of affairs in Shouzhou, he estimated the Sage Emperor would likely take no notice of the Xiao family’s affairs.

Yet he could not fathom the Patriarch’s intentions.

If that nobleman harbored other schemes, the Xiao family might meet a dire fate.

“Very well. Inform the below-ranking Iron Flag officers to keep a sharp watch over their respective territories and observe any movements in Shouzhou.”

Wang Ba, the White Tiger Guard, had long since passed.

In times of such chaos, they could discern the strength of a single person, a single clan, or a single region.

It was, after all, a blessing.

Meanwhile, along the northern road to the city.

A group led by Feng Erbao, having recently left the city, rested at the post station.

Yet Feng Erbao did not remain in the carriage; he ventured alone into the forest nearby.

He stood gazing into the depths of the woods, where only the muffled sound of rain fell, and spoke in a soft, low voice:

“Song Jin, you came here at Cai Da’s request?”

Last night, there had been some omissions; he had simply made a few minor adjustments, hoping they would be understood.

(The chapter ends here.)