Chapter 465: The Millions of Silver in a Time of Chaos

Xiyicheng…

Li Guanyi stared at this final line of text, his hand brushing the letter, feeling the fierce wind upon it, sensing the flow of human destiny, and even the Jiuzhou Ding within him stirred faintly, humming in response.

At this moment, Xiyicheng represented a battleground of contention among all directions, its significance immense, yet simultaneously, controlling this city meant bearing immense pressure.

Leaving aside other matters, the Ying State would not let this pass.

The Chen State had merely slashed his arm.

If Li Guanyi took Xiyicheng, it would be like chopping off the Ying State's arm—not just chopping it off, but snatching it away entirely.

The border tensions, just barely eased, would instantly tighten again, strain taut—tightly taut!

Li Guanyi murmured with a sigh: "Second Young Master, Second Young Master, you've thrown such an unsolvable puzzle straight at me…"

He fell silent for a moment, then smiled lightly: "That's just like you."

This letter. This final sentence.

It was not merely an influence upon Li Shude, but also a distant sword-pointed invitation to Li Guanyi—to enter this world together. The bold spirit of youth, after all, differed from the silence and rigidity of age—like wind, like fire.

Sharp, piercing energy almost surged from the words themselves.

Li Guanyi could almost picture that girl, her eyes slightly lifted, sword in hand, with three parts amusement and three parts provocation, riding the surging tide of this world, smiling calmly: "Brother Li, dare you take it?"

Such a world. Such a critical stronghold.

Such a free-spirited invitation, like a phoenix riding the long wind.

How could one give a second answer?

Li Guanyi picked up his brush and wrote his reply: —

"Good!"

As the characters settled, the surging tide of destiny across the world seemed to shift subtly.

A current of destiny, following the ink, flowed into his body.

Within the Jiuzhou Ding, destiny swirled, stirred by this, emitting one after another deep rumble—as if about to change—but this subtle transformation halted right there.

It failed to carry further along this momentum.

It simply stopped, abruptly, just as change was about to occur.

Li Guanyi had not yet reached Xiyicheng; the destiny had not fully connected, so no further transformation, no feedback to his own strength, had occurred.

But judging from this, when he finally arrived at Xiyicheng, he should see some improvement.

Could he, using Xiyicheng as an anchor, draw together the land veins of Chen, Ying, and the Tujue, and forge a new Ding there, stabilizing Shanhe?

Li Guanyi fell into thought.

Then, riding this momentum northward, taking the route from Xiyicheng into the grasslands of the Tujue, to forge the Nine Li Divine Weapons from iron ore and retrieve the Lifespan-Extending Gu.

"It would be achieved by riding this momentum."

Li Guanyi smiled lightly and suppressed these scattered thoughts for now.

He took out the Qin Wang Seal and pressed it onto his reply to Li Zhao Wen.

He then went to find Master Po Jun and the others, discussing the great shifts in this world's destiny—all agreed it was for the better, yet the significance and weight of Xiyicheng at this moment were simply too great; even if the Chen Huang or Ying Emperor suspected Li Guanyi's acceptance of Xiyicheng, they could not admit it.

To make this public would surely provoke them intensely.

Wen Lingjun sighed: "We still need rest and recuperation."

All agreed.

But even during this period of rest and recuperation, this critical point could not be abandoned.

Li Guanyi next sought out Master Wen Qingyu, and brought up the matter of Li Yuanchang. Master Wen was remarkably calm in reply:

"Lord, you know me."

He smiled faintly: "Send it."

"Indeed."

"Under the name of Yan Daiqing, I will make him a good younger brother who respects his elder!"

Yan Daiqing, passing by with unremarkable casualness, stared coldly at Master Wen's back, clenched his fists, then slowly unclenched them, bent down, and picked up a bench.

Li Guanyi: "…………"

The Qin Wang Prince chose to leave silently.

Now, all four sides need rest and recuperation. Xiyicheng's position differs from the route Chen Tianyi previously provided—the latter relied on the Mystical Realm to conceal troops and wait for opportunity, emerging instantly from the forests the moment Chen's defenses showed a gap.

Avoid the strong, strike the weak—a powerful force surges forward, striking straight for the heart.

It relies on surprise, on the strength of the unexpected.

Xiyicheng, however, is like a nail, firmly driven into the very spot all sides covet—Jiang Su, Jiang Wanxiang, Chen Dingye, and the Khan all stare at it unblinkingly; every movement of personnel and troop shifts in Xiyicheng is probed from every angle and delivered to the leaders of each nation.

Xiyicheng is a battle of brute force!

It's a contest of national strength.

Li Guanyi sighed: "We still need rest and recuperation…"

People are not iron. Even iron weapons, forged for battle, break and chip under prolonged, intense combat. After two or three full years of warfare on all fronts, a long period of recovery is required.

Li Guanyi's journey to Xiyicheng, detouring to the northern frontier beyond the border, will take considerable time. After a moment's thought, he decided to resolve several unfinished matters before setting out.

Dressed in ordinary clothes, he strolled leisurely along the roads of the Eighteen States of Jiangnan. Many of the old aristocratic families in this state had now 'disappeared,' leaving only luxurious courtyards behind.

Li Guanyi had once asked Master Wen Qingyu: Had these aristocratic families been exterminated?

Master Wen replied gently: "They are doing quite well, Lord."

"As for these ancestral homes, these courtyards, pavilions, and water terraces—they offered them to us willingly, voluntarily, and with great sincerity. I told them I didn't want to accept, yet they became so emotional, weeping and begging me to take them."

"I merely treated them as they treated others."

"I never expected they would be so grateful, so overcome with tears."

"Ah, Jiangnan, land of literary splendor—these aristocratic youths are truly good people. Good people."

Li Guanyi's lip twitched: "……You just accepted it?"

Wen Qingyu said: "Of course not."

He rubbed his bruised eye corner, matter-of-factly: "Extra payment required!"

Li Guanyi instinctively replied: "Huh? So we paid for it ourselves? It shouldn't have been much…"

Mr. Nan Hanwen smiled.

Li Guanyi froze, slowly turning his head toward Mr. Nan Hanwen, hesitating:

"We… paid some silver?"

Mr. Nan Hanwen smiled cheerfully: "What are you thinking, my lord? We accepted his gifts—of course we made them pay silver in gratitude!"

Li Guanyi: "……"

Mr. Nan Hanwen said: "After all, if they didn't pay silver, they might not sleep well. It's all because Yan Daiqing's reputation is too great—ah, burdened by fame, Daiqing, it's truly exhausting."

Li Guanyi very much wanted to ask whether Mr. Nan Hanwen had ever considered why this was the case.

As the two walked down the street, children passed by holding scrolls; under sufficient funding, the Mohist disciples had finally ceased crafting tools for slaughter and war, instead improving printing technology for the people's use.

Wen Qingyu watched the children walk along the smooth road.

The Poison Scholar's gaze dropped.

"Qingyu, this is the book you wanted…"

"Don't worry, sister works as a maid for my lord and asked the librarian to borrow it for you—no problem."

"My little brother is a genius…"

The strategist's eyes drifted, watching the happy youths pass by; he turned his gaze away, his eyes utterly still, only smiling: "These aristocratic heirs drain the blood of all under heaven—what they've consumed must be returned, principal and interest alike."

"We're merely taking back what we lent them."

The Qin Wang beside him said: "Is this also your scheme for yourself?"

Wen Qingyu smiled: "Yes, this is precisely plotting for oneself."

"Merely extending oneself to others."

Li Guanyi laughed heartily, saying that the master had claimed all the good and bad words; Mr. Nan Hanwen merely chuckled lightly—ruler and minister in perfect harmony, the aristocrats' gold and silver transformed into the foundation for public education and the implementation of new policies.

And their mansions and courtyards were all left empty.

Other factions, at this point, would have divided the spoils.

Rise in rebellion, defeat your enemy, then scatter these mansions, fertile fields, and beauties among your followers; those who once slew the beast now don its scales, sit upon its estate, and enjoy all the spoils of victory.

But the Fire Qilin Army and Tiance Prefecture now maintained strict discipline.

The initial stirrings of restlessness and agitation had been shattered by Qin Wang's three arrows; these splendid mansions stood vacant, precisely as the Chen and Ying states intended to build royal palaces.

Li Guanyi directly allocated this entire former aristocratic district to them.

He also marked out adjacent empty land—either tearing down walls to connect them or designing new architectural styles.

As Li Guanyi walked over, he saw craftsmen and artisans already busy at work, many of them possessing Wu Gong, along with Mohist disciples—

Perhaps eager to rapidly corrupt Qin Wang, the Chen and Ying states' construction speed was astonishing, yet Li Guanyi failed to spot Nan Hanwen.

Several days prior, Xiao Shaohui had been overjoyed upon seeing the first batch of allocated silver, but Nan Hanwen fell silent after seeing the figure.

Xiao Shaohui finished counting and exclaimed: "Two million eight hundred seventy thousand taels of silver!"

"They gave this much on the first try?!"

Yet when Nan Hanwen saw the official documents, he was momentarily stunned; suddenly, a look of disbelief and a grotesque, bitter laugh crossed his face—the utter helplessness mixed with hatred and resentment made him laugh aloud.

The one time he had met Chen Dingye, Chen Dingye had said:

"Ten million taels."

Nan Hanwen stared at the official seals on the document, dazed.

Impossible…

This was a moment of national survival, a time of great upheaval.

Impossible… impossible…

They couldn't possibly be embezzling funds at a time like this.

Impossible…!

He thought of the officials he had seen before.

All wore expressions of deep concern for the nation and people; their faces tightened with worry, each offering opinions on the current situation; those once refined scholars had now united as one.

Even abandoning their former dignity, they shouted loudly within the palace halls.

Truly, they labored and worried for the state to this extent.

All believed they must now try to curb Qin Wang.

Qin Wang, a young hero, radiated fierce energy; on the battlefield, one could not match him—only through slow, patient means could even tempered steel be softened into a thread, thus eroding his heroic spirit.

Every official appeared sincere, earnest, their brows furrowed with worry for the realm, visibly shaken by the current crisis, genuinely anxious, all acting for the sake of Great Chen.

But!

Ten million taels had become two million eight hundred seventy thousand taels.

Nan Hanwen's mind went blank.

Human hearts are extraordinarily complex.

Nan Hanwen struggled within himself—he remained loyal to his homeland, yet yearned for the world Qin Wang envisioned; he refused to betray Chen, yet did not wish to oppose Qin Wang, so he could only obey Chen Dingye's orders.

Letting himself drift like a sailboat amid the turbulent tides of conflicting ideologies, caught between opposing stances, he pressed his heart down, like a chess piece, doing what he must.

But people are not chess pieces.

Thoughts and emotions surged and clashed within him; he could not sleep night after night, and when he did, he was haunted by chaotic dreams—fragmented, looping images endlessly rising.

Sometimes he returned to his youth in Chen, walking slowly along the streets of Jiangzhou in Great Chen, witnessing cultural prosperity and bustling crowds, imperial majesty; sometimes a sharp whistling sound pierced his ears.

Three arrows tore through the warmth of days past; turning back, Qin Wang, clad in black robes with a jade hairpin, held his bow and stood among the commoners, calmly watching him, lips moving as if speaking.

Every time this happened, Nan Hanwen would suddenly wake, jolting upright.

The horizon was still dark, faint traces of scattered morning stars visible.

Nan Hanwen gasped heavily, unable to sleep again.

He longed for the dream of a bright future.

Yet he also worried for his homeland and nation.

When he saw such things occur, he was still filled with a vast, inexplicable absurdity; Nan Hanwen clenched the letter in his hand, suddenly furious—he was already over fifty, a civil official.

Yet he suddenly shoved aside the young Xiao Shaohui.

Nan Hanwen rushed out in long strides, mounted a swift steed, and galloped nonstop; after several days of dusty travel, he returned to Chen State, ignoring home and rest, and immediately went to pay respects to the Right Chancellor in charge of the matter.

The Right Chancellor, Feng Yuning, was solemn and dignified, a scion of a prominent clan who had composed essays at thirteen, exposing societal ills and gaining fame across the land for over sixty years; when Dan Tai Xianming arrived here, his reputation was far inferior to Feng Yuning's.

This Right Chancellor had already resigned and retired to enjoy the countryside.

Later, when Xue Daoyong ascended the court, the civil and military officials remembered him, going to great lengths to bring back this retired elder to counterbalance Xue Daoyong.

When Nan Hanwen met him, the Right Chancellor wore simple clothing, always possessing integrity; when Nan Hanwen arrived, the Right Chancellor was still reviewing official documents, and looked utterly astonished.

He immediately ordered someone to fetch clothes for Nan Hanwen to change into.

At the same time, he gripped Nan Hanwen's arm and said anxiously: "Hanwen, aren't you in the Eighteen Southern States, overseeing the strategy against Qin Wang? Why have you returned suddenly? Has something happened there?"

Nan Hanwen said: "Qin Wang has just been enfeoffed, all regions are pacified, nothing unusual; our planned strategy against Qin Wang is still progressing as arranged…"

The Right Chancellor Feng Yuning sighed in relief: "That's good."

With worry furrowing his brows, he said seriously: "Qin Wang is valiant; our Great Chen now stands at its most precarious moment in three hundred years—we must unite as one, monarch and ministers working together, to overcome this crisis."

"If anyone dares obstruct such a vital matter, they are a traitor to the state, an enemy of the people, an affront to propriety—indeed, they are selling out the people."

"If such a person exists, Hanwen, tell me—I, Feng Yuning, will sacrifice my old life to clear every obstacle. A true man who reads, at my age, has no regrets in life; better to die for country and home."

"Thus, even in death, I shall have no regrets."

The white-haired Right Chancellor murmured softly: "To die for the nation—death is fitting."

"Even a brute like Lu Youxian can die for his country."

"Are we scholars, then, without such integrity? Are we inferior to him? The Fire Qilin Army has heroes and champions; can our Great Chen's vast lands, three-century legacy, and scholarly tradition be less spirited than his single force?"

Nan Hanwen changed clothes, drank a sip of hot ginger tea, and finally felt his body ease slightly; hearing this, he was moved and said: "Right Chancellor, I do have something to report."

Feng Yuning said: "What is it?"

Nan Hanwen said: "Your servant was entrusted with constructing the palace halls and suppressing Qin Wang's arrogance; the funds received amounted to only two million eight hundred seventy thousand taels…" He did not continue.

The Right Chancellor froze.

The old man's refined, calm face flushed instantly.

His chest heaved violently.

He seized the teacup on the table and hurled it to the ground, roaring: "!!! What vile filth! Has our state sunk this low? Have our people reached this end? We are nearly destroyed, our nation humiliated!"

"Yet they still resort to such petty tricks—shameful!"

"Wretched scoundrels, ruining the state and harming the people!"

"All are bloated, idle, corrupt bandits—bandits! Our state has reached this state because of such people!"

Feng Yuning cursed with heart-wrenching anguish, gasping for breath; this great Confucian, renowned scholar, and chancellor was truly enraged, so fiercely that he nearly coughed.

Nan Hanwen hurriedly supported the eighty-year-old Right Chancellor: "My lord, you must not be so enraged over this…"

Feng Yuning breathed heavily, then seemed to slump: "The state has decayed this far? At this moment of life or death, still someone does this? Alas—it is my fault. Rest assured, Hanwen."

The old man whispered: "This concerns the state—I will die for it if I must, but I will uncover the truth for you!"

Nan Hanwen was deeply grateful, feeling his blood surge—Great Chen still had hope.

Then he heard the renowned scholar grit his teeth:

"Your Majesty's imperial decree—I personally issued it—and it was for a full—"

"Eight million taels!"

"Who took over five million taels?!"

Nan Hanwen's expression froze.

He looked at the scholar, the chancellor—his boiling blood was doused like ice water.

The Chen Huang had allocated ten million taels, and the letter informed Nan Hanwen.

But when the Right Chancellor disbursed the funds, only eight million remained.

He looked at the loyal, upright Right Chancellor—and felt his body tremble, speechless. He did not know if the Right Chancellor's fury was for the state.

Or because someone took more than he did.

Nan Hanwen did not know how he stumbled out of there; he stared at the Right Chancellor's mansion, at the bustling prosperity of Jiangzhou.

He wanted to see Chen Dingye, but was blocked.

Layer upon layer of officials barred him from reaching the Chen Huang.

Nan Hanwen clenched his teeth, took up the letter, refused to accept it, and traced the seals one by one to the bureaus; all were outraged—the Ministry of Rites claimed they had disbursed six million taels, how could it be so little?

Officials of the Bureau of Construction and Works said the same.

Down the chain, no one was at fault.

Everyone was devoted to the state!

Everyone deeply feared for the nation, deeply worried about the fate of the realm, all astonished, all furious that anyone dared embezzle—"I already gave so much!"

"I only took a little."

"If those after me didn't take, by the time it reached the south, it would be just right!"

"But why did all of you take?!"

How could you all have taken them too?!

The man finally sent to deliver the goods was a fool; when caught, he was drinking in a brothel, and heavy rain fell. Nan Hanwen pounded on the door but got no answer, so he stood in the winter rain, pounding on the windows—dozens of times—until the window finally opened.

Inside the building, warmth and the cloying sweetness of perfume filled the air; officials wore splendid robes, and on the tables lay wine and meat, the wine just warmed, with four cold, four hot, four meat, and four vegetable dishes—most barely touched by a single chopstick.

Outside, the winter rain was cold and bleak, and Nan Hanwen stood there.

Rain trickled down his matted white hair; he restrained his fury to ask.

The official looked at him impatiently and said only: "Took them? Of course I took them!"

Nan Hanwen's chest heaved; he roared:

"Don't you know this is betrayal of the state? Don't you know this is the empire's grand plan?!"

The official nearly laughed in anger: "What are you talking about?! If I don't take them, how do I eat meat? If I don't take them, how do I drink wine? If I don't take them, how will my superiors look at me? If I don't take them, how can my superiors take theirs?"

"If my superiors don't take openly, how can the Vice Ministers take? How can the Vice Ministers dare to use us so-called upright officials? If they dare not use us, how can we be promoted or grow rich?"

"Besides, I gave them three million taels."

Nan Hanwen froze: "But it was two million eight hundred seventy…"

The official sneered: "Who told you that?"

Nan Hanwen thought of the young official Xiao Shaohui, and suddenly understood.

All strength was suddenly drained from him.

The official laughed: "You, sir, are truly a foolishly upright fool!"

He slammed the window shut; rainwater from the crack splashed onto Nan Hanwen's face, and he heard laughter from inside—a woman asking, "Who's here?"

The official chuckled: "A madman."

Madman… madman…

Nan Hanwen suddenly let out a bitter laugh; the old man had lost all spirit. He didn't even know how he'd followed the new group of craftsmen to Jiangnan—only when returning did he see the sky still dark, the winter rain unceasing.

Nan Hanwen felt that in this chaotic age, there were too many clever people.

He sensed an invisible, formless enemy—even though His Majesty Chen had awakened and now possessed the spirit of a hero, every gesture, every move, every move of the chessboard—from the Chancellor down to the officials who had come with him—every one was acting.

Everyone thought that taking just a little wouldn't be noticed.

The wind and rain swayed, the realm in chaos—yet at this moment of national ruin and family collapse, they still clung to old habits, doing all these things, everyone acting for their own gain.

Nan Hanwen suddenly felt listless; the heavens felt heavy and dark, the rain unending, the path ahead invisible. This gloomy sky and falling rain were like a hopeless cage—with no way forward—he staggered ahead, letting the rain soak him through.

Where is the path ahead? Where is the path ahead?

Where is the path for my great Chen? For the people's path? For the world's path?

Where? Where?!

Suddenly, the rain stopped.

The dazed old man froze, slowly lifting his head.

An umbrella hovered above him; a gentle voice came:

"It's been several days—Mr. Nan, why are you walking in the rain?"

The ink-black sleeves fluttered; Nan Hanwen's throat moved. He looked at the man holding the umbrella and murmured:

"... Qin Wang?"

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