Chapter 257: No Merit, No Reward

The large column of troops marched westward in a long line, inevitably drawing attention.

Little Wei Yuan dispersed most of his subordinates among the prisoner ranks to help ordinary soldiers advance faster. The outer perimeter still consisted of fifty core riders, patrolling in scattered groups.

On the journey west, they encountered numerous scouts—some from other bandits, others from the Western Jin's imperial troops. Bandits, upon seeing the masked riders, usually vanished immediately, while the imperial scouts were far more brazen, some trailing leisurely just a few miles behind.

Such brazen scouts typically came from the Northern Frontier Garrison, traveling in pairs or threes, all Foundation Establishment cultivators.

Although Little Wei Yuan currently had no conflict with the Northern Frontier Garrison, that didn't mean he'd tolerate them riding over his head.

So three masked riders set out, facing three against three. The three Foundation Establishment scouts were indeed arrogant—they didn't flee but instead charged head-on. Yet they had clearly underestimated their opponents and were slain in an instant.

The masked riders tied the scouts' corpses to their horses and sent the horses back, dragging the bodies. After this, no one dared follow again.

In truth, both sides were evenly matched in cultivation, and three-on-three should have been a fair fight. But with Little Wei Yuan's support behind them, three streaks of green qi infused the riders, instantly doubling their strength—turning the battle into a one-sided slaughter.

Little Wei Yuan used the corpses of the three scouts to warn the Northern Frontier Garrison: don't cross the line, or your claws will be chopped off.

The next day, as dusk approached, a small pavilion suddenly appeared ahead of the column. Inside sat a scholar, sipping tea, attended by a maid and an old servant.

Little Wei Yuan clearly remembered this road had no pavilion, and the Shattered Realm was unlikely to have such a thing—its sudden appearance meant it was waiting for him.

Little Wei Yuan ordered the rest to continue forward, then rode his horse to the pavilion's edge, dismounted, and entered.

The middle-aged scholar rose and smiled: "Your Lordship has waited long. I've long heard of your great name, Lord Wei. Today I see you—truly, heroes emerge young. We old men have merely wasted our years."

Little Wei Yuan bowed respectfully: "Your Lordship's grace is peerless, rare under heaven."

Marquis Xiang laughed heartily: "Enough flattery. Let's sit and talk."

Little Wei Yuan sat beside the table, leaning slightly to avoid turning his back on the old servant.

Marquis Xiang asked: "Where is the item?"

Little Wei Yuan gestured, and two masked riders brought a chest, placing it outside the pavilion. The old servant opened it, rummaged through, then lifted out an inkstone and placed it on the table before retreating behind Marquis Xiang. Only then could Little Wei Yuan sit upright.

Marquis Xiang opened the inkstone. Inside lay half a stick of ink, carved with pine and bamboo, lacquered in gold. As soon as the lid opened, a strange fragrance drifted out—and Little Wei Yuan's Ten Thousand Rivers and Mountains trembled faintly.

Marquis Xiang closed the inkstone and asked: "Do you know what this is?"

Little Wei Yuan answered honestly: "I do not."

Marquis Xiang gazed at the inkstone, lost in thought, then said: "Ten years ago, the rebellion of Marquis Wu Fuling of Zhao Guo was exposed, implicating hundreds. Over a hundred were imprisoned and convicted, eight thousand family members exiled and conscripted. Three years ago, General Wu and seven of his officers were finally executed."

"I was present during the arrest of General Wu. The battle shook heaven and earth, dimmed sun and moon. To be honest, I'm not ashamed to say—I went merely to claim credit. General Wu had long been a True Person; I dared only linger at the battlefield's edge, offering minor aid."

Little Wei Yuan quietly upgraded his assessment of Marquis Xiang. One who could assist in a True Person's life-or-death battle was no ordinary man. He said nothing, waiting silently. Marquis Xiang had recounted this past with intent—he must have deeper meaning.

Marquis Xiang gently stroked the inkstone and said slowly: "General Wu's seven subordinates were seasoned warriors, their Dharma Forms steeped in blood and killing aura. The essence of General Wu, his seven officers, and all three years' worth of Zhao Guo's condemned prisoners—all of it is here."

His finger lightly tapped the inkstone.

Little Wei Yuan's brows rose—he nearly leapt to his feet. But his hand, raised halfway, slowly lowered.

Marquis Xiang's eyes showed appreciation: "This ink was made in Zhao Guo. Its crafting method is a secret passed only through the Wang family bloodline. Inscriptions and talismans written with this ink possess unimaginable power and strange marvels. Most crucially, it is essential for His Majesty's cultivation of a certain secret art. This item has passed through your hands—you bore the blame and karmic debt, yet you also caught His Majesty's eye, effectively earning a merit. Though small, this merit is planted deep in His Majesty's heart—it will become your foundation in court."

Little Wei Yuan understood: this was an offer of alliance. But to him, it was still insufficient.

Marquis Xiang reopened the inkstone, sliced off a grain-sized piece with his fingernail, and handed it to Little Wei Yuan: "Keep this. Soon, an opportunity will arise—one that requires this to unlock. I see your foundation is vast but impure. If you seize this chance well, you may gain a touch of primordial qi."

Little Wei Yuan tucked the blood-ink grain away and said: "No merit, no reward. What do you require of me?"

"Not yet urgent. Simply develop your domain. If within thirty years you become a warlord commanding heavy troops, that will be your best repayment to me."

Little Wei Yuan nodded: "I will do my best not to disappoint your expectations."

He rose to take his leave. Marquis Xiang was surprised: "Lord Wei, if you have more to say, speak plainly."

Little Wei Yuan paused, then said: "Your Lordship, I want something tangible."

"Say on."

Little Wei Yuan said: "My domain lacks grain. People are already starving. I need grain urgently—just five million jin."

!

Marquis Xiang's smile froze on his face.

Yet he quickly regained composure: "In recent years, our realm has suffered poor harvests. Military grain is tightly monitored everywhere. The Shattered Realm is a war-torn land, under even stricter control—even I cannot easily handle such a massive quantity of military grain."

Little Wei Yuan said: "I understand. Then how about two million jin?"

Marquis Xiang's smile remained unchanged. He lifted his teacup, sipped slowly, then set it down.

Little Wei Yuan understood. He said: "Then reduce it further—five hundred thousand jin?"

Marquis Xiang gently caressed the white jade ring on his finger: "How about this? I'll grant you a sum of immortal silver as military funding."

Little Wei Yuan sighed: "But silver can't buy grain. What about two hundred thousand jin?"

Marquis Xiang said: "I'll give you ten thousand grains of soldier's elixir. How is that?"

"Thank you, Your Lordship!" Little Wei Yuan rose, bowed, left the pavilion, mounted his horse, and rode away.

Once Little Wei Yuan was far gone, the old servant snorted: "This brat has no sense of gratitude!"

The maid asked: "Why does he insist on such burdensome things? Two hundred thousand jin of grain isn't even worth much money."

Marquis Xiang said slowly: "Our realm has suffered consecutive poor harvests. Grain is tightly guarded everywhere—some local officials have even fought over it. He demands grain to test whether we can control the local authorities. Moreover, to transport grain out, we must pass through Ningxi Prefecture—this is the frontier garrison's domain."

"So he clings to demanding grain, revealing that we have no roots among local officials and no connections in the military. Hmph. Indeed cunning."

The old servant said: "This brat has a huge appetite and is arrogant. Hard to control."

Marquis Xiang smiled faintly: "He remained unmoved before the blood-ink—that's the makings of a warlord. But if he thinks this can stump us, he vastly underestimates me. When the opportunity arrives, he'll learn what we can truly offer him."

(End of Chapter)