Chapter 961

The term self‑criticism, in this era, was probably first coined by Chen Wuji.

But this form of self‑criticism has actually existed for a very long time.

Among the common people, the most familiar thing is probably the Emperor's self‑blaming edict.

Not to mention far away, the present emperor has issued several such edicts.

"What you've written is all a mess— is this a self‑criticism?"

Chen Wuji looked at the self‑criticism Qian Fugui brought, his brows almost knotted into a lump; the handwriting was wild and flying, needing a long stare to make out— that aside, the content was just east a hammer west a stick, repeating the same cart‑axle talk over and over, like practicing dictation there.

Qian Fugui propped his head, looking aggrieved, muttered softly: "My lord, twenty thousand characters… if there were no paper, it would almost fill a horse cart."

"But we have paper now— not to mention twenty thousand, even a hundred thousand characters you could write." Chen Wuji glanced at Qian Fugui and tossed the self‑criticism aside.

Too lazy to look; the content probably lacks substance, and the word count surely isn't enough.

"Go get the military sticks yourself!" Chen Wuji waved his hand.

"Huh?" Qian Fugui looked startled.

"What 'huh'? Is your word count enough?"

Qian Fugui nodded heavily: "Not only enough, it exceeds by sixty‑one characters; I, the Deputy General, counted it twice— there's no mistake. My lord, if you don't believe me, you can order someone to count it twice again— it will definitely be correct."

…

A misstep!

I didn't expect this guy to actually have counted it.

"Then how about taking a few less strokes? The word count is enough, but I can't recognize many of the characters you wrote. A self‑criticism I can't read— do you think that's appropriate? I also won't specifically count how many characters are illegible due to sloppiness, so take two hundred strokes as a token." Chen Wuji said.

He would never admit he was wrong; even if he really was, he'd look for loopholes elsewhere to patch things up.

Qian Fugui went numb instantly: "My lord, I, the Deputy General, have not rebelled; you can't just take my little life like this—I, the Deputy General, am wronged."

If two hundred military sticks land, a living person can be beaten to death, a dead person can be beaten into powder; if they really go all out, he could probably be beaten into a flat cake.

Military sticks are a flexible punishment; if truly aimed at killing, three to five strokes can take a life, but if only lightly punishing, thirty to fifty strokes at most just break the skin and tear the flesh.

But if it's two hundred strokes, death is certain!

Even an iron man couldn't endure such punishment.

Qian Fugui is now genuinely panicked; he feels that based solely on this matter, the guilt doesn't deserve this— carelessness is a flaw, but far from warranting such punishment.

But looking at Chen Wuji's demeanor, this beating seems inevitable.

Chen Wuji stared at Qian Fugui without moving for a long time, making Qian Fugui's heart race as he reviewed everything he might have done wrong, yet still couldn't recall what offense warranted such harsh punishment.

After that round of recollection, he gained nothing, only breaking out in a cold sweat.

Just then, Chen Wuji let out a light laugh: "All right, come over and sit; the Presented Scholar has stewed chicken today— let's have some together."

Ah?!

Qian Fugui suddenly felt a bit dazed.

"What's with that expression? Hurry over and sit; besides, I have other things to order you to do!" Chen Wuji shouted angrily.

Qian Fugui finally reacted, his tensed nerves instantly collapsing.

After all that, it turned out to be just to scare him.

This was perhaps overly serious.

But Qian Fugui also learned his lesson: this carelessness must not be repeated, otherwise next time these punishments might actually be carried out.

As one of the earliest followers of Chen Wuji, Qian Fugui clearly knows how much Chen Wuji values the lives of his soldiers, and carelessness directly affects their life and death.

Qian Fugui no longer dared to be mischievous; he sat down honestly on the side, waiting for Chen Wuji's orders.

"Have you had any contact with She Wengui?" Chen Wuji asked.

Qian Fugui shook his head: "She Wengui's territory is in the far south; he hasn't sent anyone to assist Lin Mao‑ming and the others, and I still haven't made contact."

"This person is very likely a hidden hand of the Snake Staff Elder, perhaps a very formidable opponent— keep an eye out." Chen Wuji instructed, "Besides, tomorrow no matter how many of your troops can arrive, move ahead first, cling to the tails of Lin Mao‑ming and company, don't rush to destroy them— hold on tight."

Yes! Qian Fugui received the order.

I have already ordered the troops left to guard Xinglin Zhen to move north according to plan, cutting off the southern route of Lin Mao‑ming and company; now we need to give them a little time to see how they perform, while also observing the Court Army's movements.

Yes! Qian Fugui replied, then asked: "My lord, if the Court Army is already prepared to move south and intervene in this battle, what should I do?"

Watch and wait for my orders. This battle may become troublesome ahead; don't act rashly— initially, respond to all changes with inaction." Chen Wuji ordered.

What he wants is to find a gap and insert a needle, not to share a bit of their pressure.

Yes!

The Presented Scholar and the xiucai's dinner was soon on the table; Chen Wuji greeted Lu San ye and Chen Li to sit together, everyone had a couple of cups, and took the chance to fill in gaps.

Next day.

Chen Wuji led his troops out of Guiling Xian first.

As Lin Mao‑ming and company broke through and retreated, this small county almost became uninhabited, with only a few residents in the southern area of She Wengui.

Chen Wuji currently has no time to attend to that side; he can only leave it as is for now.

After a forced march of most of the day, with still a couple of hours until evening, Chen Wuji had already brought his men to Xinglin Zhen.

Most of the troops had been drawn away, so Xinglin Zhen now appeared somewhat empty.

However, the town's business seemed even more prosperous.

The army had been stationed here for several months; many merchant caravans came upon hearing the news, renting shops or farmhouses short‑term to do business specifically targeting the soldiers.

Food, clothing, lodging— all were available, especially businesses related to women, which were booming to the point of almost a brothel every ten steps and a pleasure house every nine steps.

Some were so sloppy they simply circled an open space with a wagon, then used cloth to partition off a dozen or so open‑air pleasure rooms.

They threw down a mat, and the cool‑clad girls stood by the wagon and started hawking their trade.

Strangely, this sort of business seemed to do even better than renting shop fronts.

No one knows whether they seek excitement, or the romanticism of watching clouds and listening to wind by day, and gazing at the moon and peering at the stars by night.

Besides these proper caravans, the nearby residents also recently contributed a surge of strength to the prosperity of Xinglin Zhen; probably the caravans' actions stimulated them, so the residents took out their stored food, hoisted it on shoulder poles, and peddled it along the streets.