Chapter 371: Shoulder the Burden! (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 371: Shouldering the Burden! (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

Boom.

A muffled thunderclap rumbled through the clouds.

Thick black clouds swiftly settled over the Kyoto Prefecture.

A cold wind began to howl.

Chen Xuanji lifted his head to gaze at the sky, and on his usually expressionless face, a faint chill crept across it.

"The Sacred Emperor and I had discussed the southern expedition half a month ago."

"I had intended to set out after the fifteenth, but now… there are likely disturbances in Shu Zhou."

Mo Baiyi was well aware that Chen Xuanji had long since set the southern journey in motion, and he too understood the Sacred Emperor’s intentions.

—A final preparation for the great war by inspecting the frontier towns.

Mo Baiyi fell silent for a moment, then mused, "Because of the recent imperial examination incident?"

Chen Xuanji nodded slightly, his deep, dark pupils reflecting the swirling clouds above, faintly glinting with a crystalline sheen.

"Ma Shuhuan exploited the imperial examination to betray the state’s secrets, and the motives of those lurking behind him are plain to see."

Mo Baiyi glanced skyward, then added, "Now, with chatter across the three prefectures of Jiuzhou, and whispers among the scholar-officials, the Sacred Emperor must be furious indeed?"

Chen Xuanji shook his head. "At first, yes, that was his reaction."

"But afterward, over tea, he came to a different understanding."

"He sought to use this opportunity to gauge whether the people’s hearts could be trusted."

Mo Baiyi’s face softened into a smile. "A shrewd pivot, Your Excellency. The Sacred Emperor is far more composed than he was in his youth."

The words hung in the air, and he continued, "His cunning has grown deeper."

Chen Xuanji offered no assent, turning his head to study him. "How fared the investigation into the matter?"

Mo Baiyi met his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Do you mean the Ji Zhou Merchant Guild or the Cui family of Qinghe?"

Chen Xuanji remained silent, his stillness unbroken. After a pause, he sighed, "Both."

Mo Baiyi huffed, muttering, "I was treated well by your side, yet you drag me here to show me the White Tiger Guard, truly…"

His words faltered—he had no intention of saying "for your own good." But realizing he could not match Chen Xuanji’s might, he exhaled and said, "You and the Sacred Emperor were right to suspect."

"The Cui family indeed has someone within the Ji Zhou Merchant Guild."

Chen Xuanji’s expression remained unchanged, though his brow furrowed slightly. "Someone?"

Mo Baiyi smoothed his sleeves. "Don’t look at me like that. You’ve governed the White Tiger Guard for years—you should know these officials’ methods well."

"If they could trace Cui Mei’s whereabouts, how could you, the head of the White Tiger Guard, still hold your post today?"

Chen Xuanji stroked his brow, pondering. "Which one?"

"The Cui family’s son, Cui Li."

"News from Jianye reports he visited Nanzhou Prefecture several times. The dates align with when the Ji Zhou Merchant Guild received maritime cargo."

Here, Mo Baiyi’s voice grew heavy with sighs.

"The world buzzes because all things are for profit; the world rushes because all things are for gain."

"The Cui family, a thousand years in the making, their treasury brimming with wealth beyond a lifetime’s spend, yet they cling to this world like leeches, sucking at its vitality."

"How vile, how utterly vile!"

His voice had grown thin, swallowed by the howling wind.

Chen Xuanji’s hair twitched slightly. He gently tugged at his sleeve, then retracted his hand, his tone even.

"You’d better change your ways."

"This place is near the capital, and the old hands inside have narrow minds. Be careful—he may yet plot a dark scheme against you."

Mo Baiyi shrugged. "What of it? With me by your side, who would dare?"

At that, he shifted his tone, studying him with a mixture of irony and thought.

"Be wary yourself. Cui Mei has held the throne for decades, his reach unparalleled. Be sure he has no schemes still afoot in Shu Zhou."

Chen Xuanji nodded, his voice calm. "He struck first, claiming the initiative."

"Indeed?"

"Earlier than your five years?"

"How long ago was that? Ten years? Twenty? Surely not since the Sacred Emperor ascended the throne."

Mo Baiyi’s eyes widened slightly, feigning inquiry while already sensing the truth.

The Cui family had endured the Wu, Chu, Qiangyang, and Dali dynasties—a lineage rare to survive a millennium.

Today, they stood more powerful than ever.

Within their ranks was Cui Mei, one of the Nine Chancellors; Cui Li, skilled in governance; and Cui Meng, gifted in both strategy and martial prowess.

Their influence spanned court, wilderness, and commerce.

Mo Baiyi had once perused volumes in the Hidden Library of the White Lotus Sect, detailing the Cui family’s deeds—enough to fill an entire hall.

These records chronicled their ancestors’ deeds and their actions across Qinghe and the three prefectures of Jiuzhou.

Some entries were certain, others uncertain, but all pointed to the Cui family’s shadow.

Their power was immense.

Mo Baiyi dared not be careless.

Chen Xuanji understood this fully, nodding. "Then we shall see…"

"Does Cui Mei seek an eternal Cui dynasty, or does he yearn to become a Son of Heaven?"

The world is shaped by alliances and betrayals, beyond the grasp of mortals, governed by the cycles of fate.

Like a pride of lions, there will come a day of fragmentation.

Life is likewise.

It arrives pure and departs pure, leaving only faint traces, taking nothing with it.

Thus, the Confucians, seeking to endure beyond their brief span, fashioned the concept of "family."

Cultivating oneself, governing the family, ruling the state, pacifying the world.

Scholars with knowledge aspire to leave their mark, inscribing their names into the family records.

Those who achieve greater deeds not only record their lives but ensure their lineage endures longer still.

The longer a family endures, the more its traces linger in the world.

Like the Chen family, where Chen Xuanji dwelt.

Five centuries of inheritance, the genealogy piled like mountains,

Every few decades, it is re-edited and copied anew.

In the clan, children first learn not who the holy sovereign is,

But which ancestor did what deeds, whose name shines brightly.

This, is inheritance.

But governance of a realm differs from governance of a house.

A family may hide in chaos, yet shine in prosperity.

Yet if it becomes a sovereign of a nation,

It too shall decline when dynasties change.

Mo Baiyi laughed lightly: “To rise by the mandate of Heaven and Earth,

One too shall be repelled by Heaven and Earth.”

“The principle, unchanged since antiquity.”

After some idle talk, they returned to the matter at hand.

Mo Baiyi, thoughtful, asked: “You’ve prepared for your southern journey?”

Chen Xuanji shook his head: “When armies come, generals block; when waters rise, earth covers.”

“The Great Wei dynasty seems peaceful, yet beneath its calm, currents churn.”

“The northern barbarians, though poisoned by tea, silk, and porcelain,

Are limited by Heaven and Earth.”

“In years of peace, they find refuge.”

“In years of strife, like now…”

Thunder rolled, lightning cleaved the sky,

A torrential rain followed in its wake.

Chen Xuanji’s face, illuminated by the flash,

Spoke coldly: “Heaven holds unforeseen storms.”

“When the northern barbarians face a harsh winter,

Even the finest silk will be torn,

Replaced by sheepskin coats and strapped with sabers,

They’ll march south in vast numbers.”

He pointed southward: “The barbarian clan,

Borrowing the power of the great Asuka,

Keeps a watchful eye on the Central Plains.”

“Their king is gravely ill, princes vie for the throne.”

“When this turmoil settles, do you think they’ll again assault the Mawei Pass?”

“The southern and southern provinces, those who secretly support the Wa state,

Plunder and pillage year after year.”

“The western Buddha kingdom harbors ambitions too.”

When Chen Xuanji spoke these things,

A rare smile touched his lips.

“And the schemes within the nine provinces and three prefectures…

The world, is quite fascinating these days.”

Mo Baiyi, hearing this,

Reined in his worldly cynicism,

Hands clasped before his chest,

Asked in a curious tone:

“What of you, then?”

“You, Chen family, dwell in Jiangnan prefecture,

While other great houses all flee to the sea.

Have you and your kin lost desire?”

“To know… wealth moves the heart.”

Chen Xuanji fell silent for a moment.

Gazing at the rain-lashed sky,

He recounted a tale instead:

“In the prior dynasty, there was a venerable sage, named Xu Wangzhi.”

“A magnate of the sea merchants once offered ten ships’ worth of treasure,

Gold and silver, to commission a ‘Song of the Sea’ for his fleet,

Do you know how he answered?”

Mo Baiyi raised an eyebrow: “How?”

“He shut himself away for three days,

Then returned with an ancient paulownia lute,

Cutting off seven strings before all.”

Chen Xuanji gazed at the hazy rooftops of the capital:

“Then he said, ‘If the lute’s music does not flow, it is complete;

If it does, it must be pure.’”

“‘Now, the words of the sea are vast and lofty,

The waves have drowned the ships.

My words on paper may soil

The unopened apricot blossoms of Jiangnan this month.’”

The rain intensified.

Mo Baiyi’s hand trembled slightly:

“You mean… the Chen family will not stain the apricots,

But keep them pure?”

Chen Xuanji nodded gently:

“Not that they won’t.

But the Chen family has an ancestral vow:

Rivers rise and fall in their time,

Flowers bloom and fade, rooted in their place.”

“Treasure from the sea is water without roots,

While our Chen family’s roots remain in the old manor in Jinling.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand,

Pointing at the rain-streaked air,

The world around him shifted.

Suddenly, he stood in an ancestral hall.

Candles flickered, casting a dim glow,

Incense swirled in the hall,

Rows of tablets lined one entire wall.

At the top, a tablet reading ‘Chen Bo, Chen Youzhi,’

And his portrait beneath it—

His stern, seated figure,

His dignity captured in ink.

Chen Xuanji bowed deeply,

Took three sticks of incense,

Lit them, placing them in the altar’s censer.

Then he stood with hands clasped:

“The ancestors’ tablets endure here,

I, Chen Xuanji, dare not stray from the vow.”

Mo Baiyi looked upon the Chen lineage,

And smiled.

He patted Chen Xuanji’s shoulder:

“No wonder some say the Chen family of Jiangnan is ‘Iron bones and apricot flowers.’”

“No wonder the old man chose you.”

But his words shifted abruptly:

“I dislike the schemes you’ve laid.”

“Chen Yi, such a promising heir,

You pressed him down for five years,

Then cast him into Shuzhou as a son-in-law to the Xiao family.”

“And Yunfan, whose nature suited me best,

You confined to the court’s constraints.”

“If it were me, I’d brandish my sword across the realm,

Never mind your schemes, Chen Xuanji.”

Chen Xuanji thought of his two sons,

Shook his head: “Two sons born with rebellious hearts,

I speak not of them.”

“Why not mention them?”

“I must, and more—

I must tell you of your ancestors,

To see if, in their memories,

They dream of cursing you.”

Mo Baiyi, knowing this was but a figment of Chen Xuanji’s chess game,

Yet played his part with feigned sincerity,

Took a stick of incense and burned it:

“The elders of the Chen clan,

Look upon this.”

“The current patriarch, Chen Xuanji,

For his own desires…

For the sake of the world’s future,

Willingly sacrificed his two finest sons.”

“One mastered the lute, calligraphy, painting, martial arts, medicine,

And numerous schools of thought—

A child blessed by Heaven and Earth.”

“The other, too, was a middle path,

Remarkable, extraordinary…”

Chen Xuanji listened to Mo Baiyi’s rambling,

Said nothing to interrupt.

If the ancestors still walked the earth,

Why show his blade in full display?

Mo Baiyi played his part in the drama,

But finding him silent,

Lost interest.

"You have nothing to tell your ancestors?"

Chen Xuanji glanced at him, his gaze drifting back to the rows of ancestral tablets before him, his face etched with complexity.

After a moment,

Chen Xuanji finally spoke softly: "The ancestral teachings state: In times of chaos, a nation must have a family."

"In this present crisis, Xuanji is also bound by circumstance."

"Xuanji, humble though I am, wishes to shoulder this realm of nine provinces and six prefectures, seeking the understanding of my forebears and ancestors!"

Upon hearing this, Mo Baiyi's indifferent smile faded from his face. He shook his head and said:

"Xuanji brother, why all this fuss?"

"This isn't the Chen family's ancestral hall—once the words are spoken, they're spoken, and that's that."

He patted his palm lightly. "Brother, I do feel it's a pity, but upon careful thought, it's fortunate that Chen Lingqiu and the light boat have gone to Shu Zhou."

"If your eldest fourth and sixth sons had gone, they'd likely already be dead there."

"Luckily, the light boat's extraordinary talent managed to resolve the Xiao family's predicament—he..."

Mo Baiyi paused, his brow furrowed with doubt: "Could this also be part of your scheme?"

"It should be."

"You've reached the pinnacle of strategy long ago, white tiger guard master. If the world is a chessboard, those two chess kings would find you a formidable opponent."

Chen Xuanji offered no confirmation, though his heart knew the truth.

Chen Lingqiu, this "qilin son," had indeed flourished in Shu Zhou, his rise no accident—he had long been behind the scenes, stirring the waters and guiding the currents.

That Chen Yiqi could resolve the Xiao family's crisis was something he hadn't quite anticipated.

Chen Xuanji had long calculated the Xiao family's game. To reach this outcome, he himself had to be at the helm, requiring heaven's timing, earth's favor, and human alignment—all essential.

Yet his five sons had turned this game into a living board.

It could not be denied that his move here... was indeed clever.

Chen Xuanji said no more, simply turning away. "This expedition southward, the Bright Manifest Guard stationed in Jiangnan Prefecture may face disturbances. You should inform the fierce tiger to watch closely."

"In Guang and Yu, the Duke Qian Guo resides there. The small fry there are unlikely to stir up much trouble, lest the Wokou menace return."

"As for Shu Zhou itself... I must go there and assess the situation."

Mo Baiyi noted his serious expression and nodded.

"You've been away from the capital for so long. Even with the white tiger guard's eyes and ears across the realm, it's still not quite the same. It's good to venture out and take a walk."

When Chen Xuanji finished speaking, he smiled for reasons he couldn't fathom.

Mo Baiyi looked puzzled.

Chen Xuanji waved his hand, dismissing the illusion, and watched the torrential rain reappear before his eyes, smiling as he spoke:

"After the emperor heard about the harvest examination in Shu Zhou, he scolded the light boat as well."

"Oh?

"The emperor said, the light boat's article was written too much like a woman's kindness."

"To worry for the world's troubles and rejoice in its peace—it was written well indeed."

"But the light boat, on the surface, had been living a life of seclusion with the Xiao family, mostly playing chess, fishing, playing music, composing verses and making couplets. Where was there any sign of a man concerned for country and people?"

Mo Baiyi chuckled as well. "The young light boat is indeed different from others."

"What do you think—was he doing those things for himself, or for the Xiao family?"

Chen Xuanji's laughter subsided, his expression returning to calm. He pondered and said: "Both. Though..."

"His talents, left within the Xiao family, would inevitably be somewhat constrained."

Mo Baiyi arched an eyebrow. "How? Even if you personally sent him to join the Xiao family as a son-in-law, could you reclaim him?"

"Who says you can't?"

"The old Xiao Guangzhi should be unaware of the light boat's background."

"If he knew, what do you suppose he'd do? Would he let Xiao Jinghong write him a letter of farewell?"

Mo Baiyi suddenly grew angry, pointing at him: "You... you're heartless!"

"A father like you, sending the light boat and cloud sail to such a son-in-law, has truly brought eight generations of bad luck!"

Chen Xuanji remained unmoved, his eyes reflecting the heavens and earth.

"For great endeavors, one must not be bound by minor details."

"Heh. Who else but I am their father?"

At that moment,

A cry of an eagle rang out.

Chen Xuanji looked up at the sky, his finger moving, and guided the great eagle to rest upon his arm.

He then unfastened the bamboo tube from the eagle's talons, opened it, and his face froze instantly.

[The King of Condors' banner has acquired a batch of iron weapons from the western region—ten thousand sets of armor, ten thousand sets of blades and bows and arrows...]

Chen Xuanji finished reading, then handed the sealed letter to Mo Baiyi.

"In this world, the winds have begun to rise..."

(Chapter Complete)