Chapter 279: The Fire Qilin

The Gongyang Su Wang seemed deserted, so the claw that reached out from the darkness carried an indescribable pressure and majesty, firmly gripping the Fire Qilin's head.

Zeng!

The talons snapped out, locking onto the young Qilin.

A chilling voice emerged from the shadow—though its tone was solemn and compassionate, it somehow sent a shiver down the spine:

"Come now, there are still many, many…"

"delicious fruits to eat."

Tears sparkled in the Fire Qilin's eyes.

Li Guanyi said: "Elder?"

The old Qilin's voice was calm and slow: "Learning reveals one's deficiencies; teaching reveals one's confusions. The Qilin roams beyond the world—that is its natural simplicity. Yet unrestrained indulgence is not the true Dao."

"Jade uncarved cannot become an instrument."

"Does Qin Wu Hou wish the Fire Qilin to grow wild, ignorant of learning?"

"Even if you consent, I am his elder—the only two Qilin left in this world—and I cannot let him act so recklessly. I must impart to him all the knowledge and divine arts of the Qilin lineage."

Li Guanyi said: "He said three years have passed…"

The old Qilin spoke slowly: "Time flows on, day and night unceasing."

"Merely a minor technique of the ancient Confucian path."

"The Fire Qilin is gifted by heaven, long-lived, and capable of enduring brief temporal shifts. Humans are not. Enough. Young friend, you may go—you have your own tasks to accomplish, do you not?"

The aged Qilin gazed at Li Guanyi before him and said:

"I have watched the changes within the Academy."

"The original Su Wang Master refused to write down his thoughts for posterity. The earliest Confucian classics were recorded by his disciples, compiling his words and deeds—he himself was 【Shu Er Bu Zuo】."

"For once he committed his words to writing,"

"future generations would twist his true meaning, using his authority to promote their own doctrines. If all did this, Confucianism would perish."

"Yet his disciples still did it."

"Even the purest hearts gradually accumulate desires. I too hope you may go farther. As for this little one, leave him to me."

The old Qilin's gaze lowered, fixed upon the Fire Qilin.

A cold, tender smile appeared on its face.

"Come now, there are still delicious fruits to eat."

"Didn't you say more is better?"

"Want to eat your fill?!"

The Fire Qilin struggled: "No, I'm full, I'm full!"

"I—I have indigestion!"

"I I I, I have a poor appetite!"

The Fire Qilin's claws shot out, gripping the ground tightly.

"No matter. Hehehe… isn't there still old me?"

The old Qilin's voice was gentle and kind, yet the Fire Qilin's crimson scales turned pale.

The old Qilin dragged the Fire Qilin inward; the young Qilin erupted in power, tearing vast, shattered fissures across the earth—its desperate struggles unleashed intense heat.

Silent.

The ground was torn, melted; its claw marks turned the blue-brick earth into molten lava, leaving behind vast pools of slowly flowing gold-red magma, the heat warping the air.

Both its power and its refinement had increased dramatically.

But it was useless.

The Fire Qilin was dragged back, inch by inch.

The magma it created was directly suppressed by the old Qilin.

"Too young."

The old Qilin walked back as if dragging a mischievous kitten, retreating with steady, unhurried steps, slowly vanishing into darkness, its pale scales and mane trembling slightly with age.

The kind face vanished into darkness, carrying an oppressive weight.

"Don't worry—there are plenty of delicious fruits."

"I can't eat more."

"I'll feed you."

"No more eating!!! Eeeeyaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!"

Boom!

The gate of Gongyang Su Wang slammed shut, muffling the Fire Qilin's screams. Li Guanyi stared, dumbfounded, then sighed and shook his head—the old Qilin, as elder and one of only two Qilin left in the world, intended to make up for the five hundred years of wasted joy.

The Fire Qilin went limp.

The old Qilin slowly raised its claw and spoke: "You must feel the changes within you these past three years. Now, you could defeat the version of yourself who first stepped into Zhongzhou."

The Fire Qilin murmured: "I don't want to eat fruits anymore."

The old Qilin did not answer, only said: "You've been beside him—you know Li Guanyi's goals are greater than his father's. His father only offended Chen State; Li Guanyi seeks to challenge the world's ancient order."

"Wen Lingjun's scheme gave him a temporary disguise."

"But the fangs will inevitably show. On that day, the whole world will be his enemy."

The aged Qilin sighed, its voice kind yet filled with sorrow:

"You will witness Tai Ping Gong's fate again."

"Will you watch Li Guanyi die before your eyes?"

The Fire Qilin's scales glowed faintly with crimson-gold light.

Zhao Laoqi gazed at Him, his tone gentle: ancient Confucians believed it was the duty of teachers and friends to speak plainly, so his words, like those of the original Master, were direct, sharp, and merciless, shattering the demonic barrier within the Fire Qilin's heart:

"To make no effort before an event occurs, and to grieve only afterward—that is merely weakness; and having already endured grief once, yet still refusing to strive."

"You are worse than a lowly nag."

"You have been blinded by the innate power of the Qilin—failing to act before the event, and collapsing into sorrow afterward. Foolish and weak. If stripped of your Qilin identity, what are you?"

"A kitten, a puppy, begging for fruit with a foolishly cute face."

"Then watch your second comrade die before your eyes, powerless to stop it?"

The Fire Qilin let out a low roar: "Shut up!"

A burst of flame slammed into Zhao Laoqi.

The next instant, a dark yellow forepaw pressed down upon the Fire Qilin's head, pinning him. Dust swirled; the ground beneath instantly turned to lava, nearly transforming this place into a volcano. The Fire Qilin struggled fiercely. Zhao Laoqi watched Him and said:

"What is this anger? What are these tears?"

"Will this change the world? Will this justify the title of Auspicious Omen? Such simple words stir your rage?"

The Fire Qilin struggled to rise, after a fierce battle.

The Fire Qilin exhausted all his strength and lay there, prostrate. Zhao Laoqi was gone—when he returned, he carried a massive bamboo basket, setting it down filled with all manner of fruits.

This old Qilin had once followed the First Master of the Confucian school in ancient times.

He had indeed gathered many fine fruits.

Zhao Laoqi followed the Master's teachings.

He could fight—and he could speak.

When he fought, he left opponents utterly lost.

When he spoke, he shattered the opponent's Dao heart.

Yet he met one swordsman: Zhao Laoqi did break the swordsman's Dao heart—but after that rage, the swordsman's sword intent grew even firmer, and in one misstep, he lost a horn.

The aged Qilin lay there, quietly watching the young Qilin.

That basket was woven from Nanshan bamboo—huge.

The young Qilin curled entirely within the bamboo basket. After being thoroughly crushed by Zhao Laoqi—in spirit, mind, and body—he was bruised and swollen, yet there he chewed fruits with loud, snuffling noises.

Zhao Laoqi extended a paw to stroke his head.

The young Qilin snorted, turning his head away.

Then he lowered his head and bit into the fruit fiercely, tears streaming, sniffling. They say Qilin reach adulthood at five hundred years—but that is untrue. Qilin live long; in human terms, this Qilin was barely twelve years old.

The Fire Qilin wept as he thought:

Hmph!

Fine, fine, fine—I'll become a heartless Qilin, devoted only to cultivation and study. I won't pay you any mind anymore.

Then he bit into another fruit fiercely.

Chew, chew.

Zhao Laoqi offered him a fine fruit, his massive paw reaching out to press upon the young Qilin's head. The young Qilin struggled briefly, failed, and gave up—instead, he gobbled the fruit in huge mouthfuls. Zhao Laoqi smiled gently and said:

"The world is about to change."

"I spent three years consolidating your power."

"There are fifty-seven days left."

"Fifty-seven days—achieving the Realm of a Mortal Master is no great feat."

Two months to propel a divine beast across a major realm?

Zhao Laoqi spoke leisurely:

"If you cannot make it, stay here."

"When will I be let out?"

"Hahaha!"

"Wait until the scholars of the Imperial Academy finish their books, until the tails of Nanshan's horses turn into brushes, until the white paper piled in the Northern Repository is filled with writing, until all the grain in the world is eaten—then I'll let you out."

The Fire Qilin beamed: "Deal!"

Chew, chew, chew.

The Fire Qilin suddenly realized something was wrong.

"Huh???"

"Are you teasing me?"

The Fire Qilin stared wide-eyed at Him.

Zhao Laoqi burst into loud, delighted laughter.

Since the death of the First Master,

he had never been so happy.

Master, you said: if you do not know life, how can you know death?

An old man who refuses to die is a thief.

How I wish you were still alive, Master.

……………………

The tide of the world surged like waves, chaotic as a whirlpool—but at its very center, in Zhongzhou, an unnatural stillness reigned. The entire Tiance Prefecture stood empty; though students pretended to pass by, none stepped inside.

Li Guanyi was bored. The Son of Heaven's autumn hunt was still a month away.

The tradition of autumn hunting predates even the era of the Red Emperor.

Feng Xiao had not gone to retrieve anyone.

It seemed he simply could not bear to part with such a top-tier wine as Qian Ri Zui.

More painful to him than anyone being outside their own camp was losing his fine wine; one day he had mustered the courage to go find the person, but at the last moment, he couldn't bring himself to pour out the wine.

Li Guanyi chuckled to himself, not caring, and poured Xiang Xiao a dou and one sheng, thinking that if he ever saw that cheap older brother again, he'd say plenty of sweet words to get the brother to give him even more good wine.

But he didn't know that at this moment, a silver-haired man with slightly bruised eyes was grinding his teeth to shards.

Li Guanyi played only one popular folk board game each day with Yao Guang.

Then he visited the Imperial Academy, paid respects to several Academy Masters, met the Mo Juzi and Gongyang Su Wang, chatted idly with Master Wang Tong, while his great-grandfather simply read books—he no longer even touched his sword, let alone spar with it.

The only ones who had changed were Wen Lingjun and Wen He.

Wen He and Wen Lingjun discussed the current situation of the Fire Qilin Army, after which Wen He mentioned one million taels of silver; Wen Lingjun remained silent for a long while, and with Wen Lingjun's grasp of grand strategy and Wen He's methods, the two settled on a plan.

They began having the Fire Qilin Army purchase grain.

They purchased it in massive quantities.

They had a full one million taels of silver; for an individual, this was a terrifying sum, and news of the Fire Qilin Army's grain purchases quickly reached the great families of Zhongzhou.

The great families and Li Guanyi faced off against each other; though they had not yet fully torn the veil, their relationship was certainly not harmonious.

Naturally, they raised their prices.

Yet Wen Lingjun kept buying the grain even at the inflated prices.

The great families quickly realized.

"An enemy is an enemy, but silver is silver."

"Stance is stance, business is business!"

"Hahaha, the Fire Qilin Army—probably the great families of Jiangnan won't cooperate, and the Fire Qilin Army can't even feed itself, so they've come here to buy grain! Hmph, even with prices raised this much, they still buy!"

"The Fire Qilin Army is foolish, foolish!"

"Foolish man, plenty of silver!"

The great families of Zhongzhou drew grain from all regions, bought it up, and sold it at high prices to the Fire Qilin Army; because Wen Lingjun was involved, they couldn't raise prices too drastically, and soon the Fire Qilin Army had amassed a large grain reserve.

But soon, the Fire Qilin Army's grain purchases and the families' sudden price hikes brought negative consequences.

What about selling to ordinary people?

"Naturally, prices must rise there too."

Cui Haomin, head of a family with some marital ties to the imperial house, turned his luxurious agate bead slowly and said calmly: "If we don't raise prices for these commoners, how will Li Guanyi buy grain from them?"

"Would we truly let Li Guanyi and the Fire Qilin Army take advantage of us? Besides, I've already heard news from Jiangnan—the great families there suffered great humiliation at the hands of the Fire Qilin Army."

"Heh, they've surely learned their lesson and now have no choice but to buy grain."

"We have ties with the Jiangnan great families, frequent dealings—we must help them."

His subordinate hesitated and said:

"But what if the commoners revolt?"

Cui Haomin replied coolly: "Commoners are like this."

"Cunning and deceitful—they claim to have no grain, yet beneath every well lies hidden stock, grain stored on rooftops, even walls packed with grain cakes dried and stuffed inside, pulled out when needed and soaked into paste to eat."

"You and I have seen it often."

"Commoners never die out—look at the world: one batch of mud-stained peasants dies, another springs up like spring weeds in ten or twenty years, clamoring for land and grain."

"Besides, if they come complaining—"

"Just say—"

Cui Haomin paused, then said coolly: "It's Li Guanyi of the Fire Qilin Army who's hoarding grain, causing prices to rise."

"... Understood."

Such things happened everywhere; ordinary commoners could still endure, but those whose land was barren, or who had lost their land entirely and worked only as laborers for the wealthy, could not.

The great families refused to pay more, yet raised grain prices drastically.

Eventually, some could no longer bear the hunger and went to the Fire Qilin Army's encampment, weeping, begging them to stop buying grain; a gentle voice came: "Sir, please rise."

The man, who had been barely holding on, looked up and saw a gentle young man; the youth's eyes held pity as he whispered: "We must continue purchasing grain."

"But the suffering this has caused you is our doing."

The man opened his mouth—he knew it wasn't the Fire Qilin Army's fault.

The Fire Qilin Army bought grain, but the great families took advantage and raised prices.

The blame was clear; the man wept bitterly: "But sir, my lord, please—I have a son and an elderly mother relying on me alone; grain prices have doubled, we have no surplus, we can't survive!"

Wen Lingjun said: "Then, the Marquis's benevolence cannot bear to see his people starve."

"Set up porridge stalls here."

"Relieve the commoners."

This news spread quickly; commoners flocked there, but to get food, they had to work—those who came hoping to take advantage soon withdrew.

Cui Haomin, hearing this, sneered at his friend:

"Li Guanyi truly can't let go of his empty reputation."

"Hah! Bought grain to save the Fire Qilin Army, only to get tangled up by these mud-stained peasants? Now he's spent his silver, kept no grain, and left behind a horde of peasants feasting on his flesh and drinking his blood."

"In that case, Li Guanyi is pitiful indeed."

"Then let's send our own mud-stained peasants over there."

Cui Haomin placed a stone, saying coolly:

"After all, their land is already in our family's hands."

Only days passed, and the Fire Qilin Army's porridge stalls multiplied; these people brought their families, and to get porridge first, they simply found places to lie down and settled near the Fire Qilin Army's encampment—numbers swelled, and the great families watched, laughing.

"Every day, white silver burns away—what a pity, what a pity."

"My heart aches, hahaha!"

"Giving silver to mud-stained peasants—ahahahahaha!"

Inside the Tiance Prefecture, Wen Lingjun and Wen He were playing chess.

Wen Lingjun placed a white stone and said softly, "How is it?"

Wen He replied cheerfully, "Your one million taels of silver are burning away."

"A little less each day, a little less each day."

"Your strategy is truly ruthless when it comes to spending money!"

Wen Lingjun said, "Yes, but I mean—how many people can we ultimately take with us?"

The Fire Qilin Army and the Tiance Prefecture publicly claimed to be purchasing grain, but in truth, they were using the hostility of the aristocratic clans to gather the common people.

Wen Lingjun and Wen He both understood: the aristocratic clans of Zhongzhou became powerful because they bled the common people dry; the aristocratic clans of Jiangnan had the arrogance they did only because there weren't yet enough common people under the Fire Qilin Army's control.

What he and Wen He saw was the single most vital link in the entire world.

The common people—and their hearts.

Wen Lingjun whispered, "First, remove all the common people who will inevitably die in the coming chaos, before the great turmoil begins; second, when the Zhongzhou aristocrats lose the people beneath their feet, they will weaken rapidly, allowing the Chi Emperor's line to endure longer."

"Third, the Jiangnan aristocrats, suddenly confronted with the influx of manpower from the Fire Qilin Army, will be checked and balanced."

"With this single strategy, we protect the Chi Emperor, weaken the aristocrats, strengthen the Tiance Prefecture, and win the people's hearts."

"Is this sufficient as our token of allegiance for entering Jiangnan?"

Precisely because the movement of common people, the distribution of porridge, and military grain procurement were commonplace, the transformation could proceed smoothly; Wen Lingjun whispered:

"When preparations are complete, complacency sets in; when something is constantly seen, it is no longer suspected. The hidden lies within the visible, not opposite to it. The greatest yang contains the greatest yin."

This is what is called "Deceiving Heaven to Cross the Sea."

Wen He said casually, "Next month's Son of Heaven's hunting expedition will likely be the last moment of peace; after that, the world will descend into chaos. I've ordered these people to work daily—ostensibly loading grain onto ships, but in truth, constructing Mo Family mechanical vessels."

"When the great chaos finally comes, all the feudal lords will raise their weapons, hearts will be frantic, and the common people will be filled with terror."

He picked up a black stone, his gaze calm:

"When the lords and monarchs raise their arms for the world, only one man stands to protect the common people. Under this contrast, the world's greatest renown will be within reach—many common people will flee their homes and come to our Lord."

"Chen raises its army; Ying raises its spear."

"Only our Lord gathers the people; with this contrast, the distinction between high and low becomes clear. As the curtain of the world is pulled back—Chen Dingye, Jiang Wanxiang…"

"Forgive me, but your grand ambitions must become the foundation upon which our Lord treads the world."

"Thus, our Lord stands in a position of invincibility; before the world is settled, no feudal lord will dare kill our Lord and incite the people's wrath."

"Our Lord is secure."

For a hundred years, the first priority has been to preserve oneself.

Wen He said calmly, "When the enemy's harm is great, seize the opportunity to gain advantage."

"A tiny crack must be exploited; a slight benefit must be seized. Lesser yin, lesser yang."

"Even a broken cart in Zhongzhou has plenty of nails to use."

Black and white stones fell upon the wooden board, clinking sharply.

Beside them, Feng Xiao merely drank wine.

The chessboard, where the black and white stones clashed, resembled the entire world—this was the first strategy they had prepared for Li Guanyi and the Fire Qilin Army, and their token of allegiance.

"Take them away during the chaos."

"If what we've predicted truly comes to pass, I believe more people will come to join us along the way; the grain bought with this one million taels of silver could support this many souls."

Wen He extended one finger and said calmly, "One hundred thousand households."

"With proper manipulation, even more."

Feng Xiao grinned. "You two are ruthless."

Wen He said, "Ruthless? The overall direction of this strategy was pointed out by Lingjun."

"I merely tweaked it slightly."

"After all, I took a million taels from the Zhongzhou aristocrats."

"The Zhongzhou aristocrats are petty and hold grudges."

"They will surely seek revenge."

"They're too powerful—I'm terrified of them. Just thinking about them still having the power to lord it over others keeps me from sleeping, eating well, or tying up prisoners properly."

"My mood sours. I can't think of tea or food."

"So I must pull out the very roots and bones of the Zhongzhou aristocrats."

"Let's see if they can still be arrogant then."

"One million taels of silver, combined with the chaos of the world's collapse, will bring one hundred thousand displaced households into Jiangnan—to strengthen Jiangnan, weaken the aristocrats, and use our Lord's growing fame to divide the Jiangnan clans and seize all their advantages. Only then will Jiangnan truly belong to our Lord."

"Only then will it become a solid foundation."

Zhongzhou is a place of swirling winds and stormy clouds.

The strongest sword madman of the martial world is about to face his final battle.

The Master reads his books; the King taps his sword.

Two of the brightest young strategists in the world are about to step onto the stage of the world.

Wen He sighed:

"We haven't even reached Jiangnan yet, and we've already spent so much."

"I wonder if our Lord will think this million taels of silver was worth it?"

"Burning money every day—burning through a million taels in just over a month."

Wen Lingjun said, "Our Lord is poor in wealth, but his name resounds throughout the world."

"Moreover, he can rescue the first wave of common people in the chaos—the ones who couldn't even afford a meal. Given his nature, he would say…"

He placed a stone, his voice crisp and cold: "A great profit."

Time turned, and in Zhongzhou City, strategists and ministers vied, martial heroes rode past, emperors rose, and heroes stood face to face; Chen Dingye and Jiang Wanxiang avoided each other, while Li Guanyi finally received the second most important thing in Jiangnan.

The Imperial Academy debated the Dao, contending over the Hundred Schools of Thought, its scholars in full voice.

At this moment, a carriage procession arrived slowly from the direction of Chen State.

Cavalry led the way.

The driver held a pouch of fragrant salt-roasted peanuts; beside the carriage, a banner flew high, bearing a large character with a Bai Hu pattern.

【Xue】.

?? Shift from yin to yang, please vote for monthly tickets, friends~