Chapter 466

Standing in the misty winter rain, holding an umbrella over Nan Hanwen, was none other than Li Guanyi. Nan Hanwen froze for a long while, unsure what to do, his nose tingling with acid—this old minister of Chen, who had lived through generations of Emperors, Tai Ping Gong, Dan Tai Xianming, and Chen Dingye—began to weep.

He raised his hand to wipe the rain from his face, inadvertently erasing the tear tracks too, feeling himself utterly pathetic, like a fool, and said: "This wind and rain today is truly fierce, leaving one so disheveled."

His movements paused slightly, mid-action.

He realized: how could this Qin Wang, at the peak of the Ninth Heaven, not see exactly why he had made that gesture? Yet as he grew slightly uneasy, the Qin Wang merely smiled, holding the umbrella, extending his hand to catch the winter rain of southern Jiangnan, and said:

"Yes, the storms of the world are fierce."

One spoke of today's storm; the other spoke of the world's storm.

Only two words differed, yet the spirit and meaning behind them were entirely different. Nan Hanwen stood stunned, lost in thought. Li Guanyi, holding the umbrella, smiled and said: "It's rare to meet Master Nan Hanwen. Why not walk together and buy something warm to warm your body?"

The Qin Wang of the world himself held the umbrella as Xu Xing walked beside him.

Nan Hanwen, who had rarely seen the Chen Emperor, felt utterly flustered.

Seeing Li Guanyi lead him effortlessly toward places favored by common folk, Nan Hanwen gathered courage and said: "Your Highness, you clearly know well these places where the people live and eat."

Li Guanyi replied: "I grew up wandering through chaos. I know these places well. In the upscale teahouses, what you pay for is the atmosphere—but the food, of course, is also excellent."

"Flavor exquisite, presentation delicate and refined, color, aroma, and taste all perfect."

"But for me, I still prefer the street food."

Li Guanyi brought Nan Hanwen to a small stall tucked in an alley, a tiny counter set up. He folded his bamboo umbrella and spoke familiarly: "Shopkeeper, two bowls of duck blood vermicelli soup, two sesame buns, and a dish of oil-soaked fine noodle strands."

"Got it!"

The shopkeeper was a woman in her early thirties, swift and efficient. Li Guanyi rinsed the cups with hot tea and gestured to Nan Hanwen. Nan Hanwen watched as the Qin Wang dipped the warm bun into the duck blood vermicelli soup.

He ate the bun plain first, savoring the grain's fragrance, then dipped it into the soup and the noodle strands.

Nan Hanwen murmured about the duck blood vermicelli soup, looked down, and saw duck blood, duck offal, and vermicelli. He stirred with his chopsticks—no duck meat in sight—but when he sipped the broth, it felt comforting. After his long journey, weary and mentally drained, he ate heartily without realizing it—until he caught himself, realizing how greedily he'd devoured it, and felt slightly embarrassed: "... Forgive me, Your Highness."

Li Guanyi extended a finger: "Call me 'Pharmacist' out here."

Nan Hanwen gasped: "How could that be appropriate?"

Li Guanyi said: "Then it's an order."

Nan Hanwen choked on his breath.

The young Qin Wang seemed pleased, sipped his soup. Nan Hanwen, unsure how to respond, mumbled half-heartedly: "This soup is called duck blood vermicelli soup? I've never seen it before. On a day like this, with such heavy rain, eating a bowl is truly comforting."

Li Guanyi picked up a strand of vermicelli with his chopsticks: "In these times, duck offal is far cheaper than duck meat. If you can't afford duck meat, you chop up the offal, toss it in hot broth, add scallions—it carries meaty flavor, satisfies the palate, and stays warm."

"It's not expensive. Even the poorest commoner can afford it."

Nan Hanwen fell silent for a long while, then said:

"Your Highness, as Qin Wang, why eat such... such plain food?"

He struggled, finally uttering the word "plain."

In truth, he felt such fare was beneath dignity.

Li Guanyi sipped his soup, slowly broke open the remaining bun, slipped in the oil-soaked noodle strands, bit into it, and chewed slowly: "Does eating require you to be someone specific? I eat meat. I eat roasted goose. I eat these buns."

"But if you say someone eats only the tongue of a chicken and throws the rest away, or eats only the flesh beneath a single scale of a fish, spending hundreds of taels on one meal—I can only say: they're idiots."

Li Guanyi spoke bluntly, with the grandeur of a whale fisher.

Master Nan Hanwen was shaken, wave after wave.

After a long pause, he grunted out: "Qin Wang, you are straightforward!"

Li Guanyi laughed heartily: "Truly, a man of insight. But we eat normal food because that's right. These buns, these grains—they're what the common people labor year-round to grow from the soil."

"Every bite we take, they eat one less. If we waste, if we indulge in luxury, how much less will the people eat? One meal costing a hundred taels—that's one tael per family, barely enough to survive a month."

"They consume the monthly food of a hundred households in one sitting."

"Master, well-read in the classics—do you think this is right?"

Nan Hanwen fell silent for a long while, unable to speak.

He thought again of the hundred million taels of silver in the chaos, how the Emperor sought to corrupt another rival—even one heroic, brave, destined to open a new golden age and bring peace to the people.

The Chancellor, guarding his own reputation, must still protect the dignity of his entire household—over two hundred souls—and so he took money. Lower officials, seeking survival as the empire crumbled, took money.

The lowest clerks took money, hoping for promotion.

Where did this money come from?

As the Qin Wang said: from the year-round toil of the common people.

No one paid. Only the people bled flesh and blood.

Everyone took money. Except the ten thousand households in the fields.

At this moment, common folk came by to shelter from the rain, ordered a bowl of warm duck blood vermicelli soup, and chatted about recent events. The sound of their talk, the mist rising from the winter rain, the steam from their breath—all mingled with the smoke of cooking, creating a drowsy, soothing atmosphere.

This was the peak of mortal humanity.

Nan Hanwen suddenly felt a violent surge within him. Decades of experience clashed violently with the revelations of this past month. The old scholar stood motionless, fists clenching and unclenching, unclenching and clenching again.

Then he heard the sound of someone tapping the table.

He looked up and saw the Qin Wang's gaze, calm and steady, fixed upon him.

Nan Hanwen's heart paused. Had he been seen through?

The envoy of Chen straightened his back, his aura heavy, ready to speak of the great currents of the world—the rise and fall of emperors and generals, the clashes of nations.

The Qin Wang's chopsticks lightly pointed at Nan Hanwen's bowl, and said seriously:

"The noodles are soggy."

Nan Hanwen: "…………"

The tension, the worry, the struggle over state affairs and great power—like a tower in the sky—collapsed in an instant, brought down by just three words, yanking Nan Hanwen back to solid ground.

The true warmth of human connection, the real texture of ordinary life, flooded in.

Nan Hanwen stood frozen for a long while, as if his mind had emptied—then burst into loud laughter.

After finishing this meal, thick with the scent of daily life, Nan Hanwen felt light and warm, and spoke openly: "Qin Wang, you promised our Chen and Ying states to build a royal palace—but you had another purpose, didn't you?"

"Could you tell me?"

The Qin Wang actually laughed and said: "Mr. is perceptive indeed—it is so."

Qin Wang Li Guanyi said: "This vast palace is for inheritance."

Nan Hanwen frowned: "Inheritance?"

The Qin Wang said: "Yes—to carry forward the lost teachings of ancient sages."

"The finest palace in all eighteen southern provinces is prepared for scholars."

Nan Hanwen bowed deeply and said: "How does this differ from the imperial academies of other states, or the Imperial Academy in the Central Plains?"

"Different?"

The Qin Wang extended his hand; the rain overhead had gradually ceased. His expression was calm as he replied: "No inquiry into birth—anyone who passes the examination may enter this gate: all schools of thought, practical governance, military strategists, merchant guilds, agrarianists, Moist mechanical arts—all may enter…"

"What do you think?"

Nan Hanwen murmured: "No inquiry into birth…"

His expression grew firmer. "Then what of that tallest tower? Built in imitation of the Tower to Pluck the Stars, meant to house the world's many treasures?"

Li Guanyi laughed in reply: "It is to collect and preserve the world's scrolls."

"Wu Gong, secret scrolls, numerology, Moist arts, Confucian, Buddhist and Daoist texts."

"All under heaven may come and read them!"

A place that judges only talent, not birth.

A place where all under heaven may come and read.

Like two sharp swords, they seemed ready to cleave open a crack in the entire world's stagnant order—utterly unlike the rigid hierarchy of Chen State. In this world, Wu Gong, secret scrolls, and the treasured teachings of the Hundred Schools were each school's most guarded secrets.

Nan Hanwen could not imagine what the world would become if the Qin Wang accomplished this: centuries of locked knowledge shattered. First, three arrows to steady the army and break ritual law; now, two swords splitting the monopoly of learning.

Until now, the Qin Wang had revealed mostly the righteousness of a wandering knight, the grandeur of a general.

Now he had stepped onto the throne, taken up the king's sword, and his deeds were meant to shake heaven and earth.

Thinking of this grandeur, Nan Hanwen recalled Chen State's decay, and sighed:

"What you intend will surely shake the old order."

"It will surely face the world's backlash—can such a thing truly be accomplished?"

The Qin Wang replied: "Must we refrain from acting simply because we do not know at the outset whether it can be done?"

Nan Hanwen fell silent for a long while.

At last, he made his decision, bowed, and whispered:

"If so… may I…"

"Your servant, may I follow behind Your Majesty, to witness such a world?"

The Qin Wang replied: "The affairs of all under heaven are carried out by all under heaven."

"Mr., please."

He rose, his ink-black sleeves swirling and falling, holding an umbrella, gazing at the sky beyond, calmly saying: "The rain has stopped."

Li Guanyi rose and departed. Nan Hanwen whispered:

"The Chen State's two million eight hundred seventy thousand taels of silver shall be at Your Majesty's disposal."

The calm Li Guanyi paused.

Nan Hanwen fell silent, then added:

"The first batch."

Li Guanyi: "…………"

He exhaled slowly, and merely nodded.

Authority, stillness—as if all were under his control.

At this moment, Nan Hanwen finally released the long-standing inner struggle, and felt as if a single thought had opened heaven and earth—lighter now, he watched the Qin Wang walk away, his aura steady and extraordinary, and could not help but sigh inwardly.

No wonder he is the Qin Wang!

He appeared precisely when I was most torn, most unable to choose.

Was this coincidence—or was this what they call Heaven's Mandate?!

Nan Hanwen felt thought after thought rise within him, finally letting go of his former struggle, feeling light, and sighed with awe: "The Qin Wang is unfathomable!"

Li Guanyi walked calmly past, out of Nan Hanwen's sight.

Then, in an instant, he looked up at the sky and muttered: "Holy shit, two million eight hundred seventy thousand taels of silver?!"

"And the first batch?!"

"Holy shit, I'm rich again? My luck's back?!"

Li Guanyi never imagined that just stepping out for a moment…

Would bring him such fortune.

He returned cheerfully, but at the gate saw a refined young man in a sky-blue long robe, hands tucked within his sleeves, his expression warm as jade, smiling as he chatted with common folk—yet seemingly aware of a certain gaze.

The gentle gentleman lifted his eyes and looked over.

His smile slowly froze.

Li Guanyi halted his step, pretending nothing had happened.

Turned, stepped, go!

But under the stimulus of the budget ledger, red and black with overdue expenses, Yan Daiqing suddenly slapped his palm onto Li Guanyi's shoulder—making the mighty, invincible Qin Wang freeze, sweat breaking on his brow.

Behind him, the gentle, jade-like Yan Daiqing, who had just solved a child's arithmetic problem, slowly approached: "Isn't this… the Qin Wang?"

"Why are you walking away from me today?"

"Where are you heading…?"

Li Guanyi's lips twitched: "Ah, this, uh, cough, I..."

"Ah, Daiqing, you're here! Ahahaha, I was just looking for you."

"Didn't notice you for a moment."

Li Guanyi had just slipped out under the pretense of visiting Chen Xiuzhu's 'palace'; it seemed nearly finished, so he came to check—though really, he was using that as an excuse to dodge official duties.

Xiyicheng is a mighty city in the Western Regions.

It is nearly an exact counterpart to Zhenxi Xiongcheng, the second greatest fortress in the realm.

It firmly controls the strategic core of Yan's incursion into the Western Regions—a cooperation level of strategic magnitude; this matter can no longer be handled with the casual freedom of a wandering swordsman, as if declaring an alliance and then strolling off with a silver-haired girl tucked under your arm.

Livelihood, strategy, troop deployment.

Movement of generals, coordination of strategists.

These are a series of serious, tedious matters, all requiring consideration, impossible to accomplish with a mere flick of the finger.

Most importantly, Yan Daiqing realized he must forcibly squeeze out, from an already near-perfectly stringent logistical arrangement, enough funds and manpower for Qin Wang to accept the second greatest fortress.

This caused Master Yan Daiqing's mood to show a slight fluctuation.

For instance, lately when Master Yan Daiqing handled official business, a dark cloud seemed to gather above his head; so much so that Xiao Zhi, who normally loved wandering about with his little notebook, recording everyone's problems, now walked right around Master Yan Daiqing.

Even Master Wen Qingyu avoided provoking Master Yan Daiqing.

Afraid he'd be struck by the heavy pile of documents the latter might swing like a blunt weapon.

Can't provoke, can't provoke.

Discovering the logistical budget was severely overdrawn, yet the matter remained critical enough to proceed, he was forced to reorganize all official affairs, attempting to squeeze out funds for two distant expeditions for Qin Wang, who was so poor he might as well be begging.

At this moment, Qin Wang's chancellor, Master Yan Daiqing, had fully entered the phase where nothing and no one pleased him.

Far from feeling refreshed or clear-headed.

He sneered: "So that's how it is. But if His Highness is looking for me, it means you've prepared to resume the logistical duties—and your so-called 'school-building' plan."

All grand ambitions, ideals, stratagems, and great vows had come down to earth.

In truth, it boiled down to just one word.

Money! Money!

Still money!

Li Guanyi, whose instinct was to flee, paused slightly, then suddenly realized something, cleared his throat, and said with confidence: "I've found it."

Yan Daiqing looked up at him: "How much?!"

Li Guanyi offered a faint smile:

"Two million, eight hundred and seventy thousand taels of silver."

As Li Guanyi spoke.

The dark mist above Yan Daiqing's head slowly dispersed.

Watching Yan Daiqing's transformation, Li Guanyi's confidence rose steadily, as if all things lay within his grasp.

When he saw Yan Daiqing's furrowed brows relax, and a gentle, noble bearing return to his face.

Li Guanyi calmly delivered the final blow, extending one finger: "The first batch!"

In an instant, Yan Daiqing felt refreshed and clear-headed!

Yan Daiqing praised: "You're one of us!"

After returning, Nan Hanwen saw Xiao Shaohui and no longer felt guilty, nor did he rage at him for having taken at least one hundred thousand taels of silver.

Instead, he felt a complex yet relieved emotion.

The world is vast, in this chaotic age of rivalry.

Within Great Chen, civil and military officials all had their own plans and intentions.

Some sought wealth, some fame; others contemplated plundering benefits as Chen fell; still others simply didn't grasp the shifting situation, only noticing that laws and controls were gradually loosening.

Like vultures spotting rotting flesh, they grew ever more reckless and frenzied, feasting on this banquet.

They've stopped hiding altogether.

Demons dance wildly.

The great hall is about to collapse, the wind and rain sway—it's no more than this.

But isn't that exactly what I am too?

Just as some trample order in the dark, storm-tossed night, plundering all to satisfy their desires, others yearn to find a brighter path in this storm-tossed age.

Each seeks what they desire, each clings to what they hold dear.

Nan Hanwen guided the craftsmen to build the new 【Academy】 and 【Library】 exactly as Li Guanyi and others had described and demanded.

Li Guanyi wrote back to Li Zhaowen's invitation; before departing for Xiyicheng, he still had to arrange all matters thoroughly.

By the time he returned, perhaps several months would have passed.

Plant the seed early—a spark.

He summoned the Tiance Prefecture officials to implement a new strategy: selecting talent from all regions to enter the Academy, divided into distinct disciplines.

Literary studies, taught by the Nine Sons of the Academy.

Martial studies, based on Motian Sect, teaching numerous Wu Gong; Sword Mad Murong Longtu serves as honorary master.

Military strategy, taught by numerous renowned generals.

Fan Qing is appointed Director of Instruction; all martial and literary students must attend General Fan Qing's daily drills, and agricultural scholars have also begun courses.

Unexpectedly, Mo Sect was elevated in status, jointly recruiting students interested in Mo Sect's mechanical arts alongside the other schools of thought.

Yet at this moment, the Mo Sect students of Tiance Prefecture were insufficient. The Mo Juzi, who was crafting an arm for Xiao Wu Liang, raised his eyes slightly, looked at Li Guanyi beside him, and sighed:

"You truly are a strange fellow. Since ancient times, no ruler has valued Mo Sect's doctrines as you do."

"So, what are you planning?"

Li Guanyi sat cross-legged beside him, curiously examining Xiao Wuliang's arm; the Mo Juzi's craftsmanship was exquisite—Xiao Wuliang's arm had already regained its former agility.

There were many other ingenious applications as well.

After becoming accustomed to it, Xiao Wuliang might not return to his peak, but at least he could rejoin the battlefield.

Li Guanyi set down Xiao Wuliang's arm and smiled at the remark: "I was just thinking—if Mo Jia's techniques and mechanical wonders could be widely adopted, perhaps a thousand or a hundred years from now, ordinary people might wield the mysterious powers of martial cultivation."

The Mo Juzi stared, dumbfounded, thinking Qin Wang was indulging in wild fantasies again, and said irritably: "That's absurd… Only through cultivating internal Qi and primordial energy can one unlock such wonders. How could ordinary civilians possibly wield them?"

Qin Wang smiled: "Perhaps."

"Who knows what will happen a thousand or a hundred years from now?"

"If you're going to dream, why not dream boldly? If it's possible, let me begin this first step."

The Mo Juzi fell silent for a long while, then said:

"But the Mo Jia disciples are scattered across the world—how will you gather them all together?"

Li Guanyi said: "That's where I must thank you, Mo Juzi."

The Mo Juzi froze: "What?"

Yan Xuanji's gaze sharpened as he saw a token appear in Li Guanyi's hand—ancient, solemn, and powerful—the Mo Juzi Token.

Before Li Guanyi departed for the Western Regions, the Mo Juzi had feared he would face overwhelming obstacles alone, and had given him the Mo Juzi Token, which could summon Mo Jia disciples to fulfill a single vow.

Li Guanyi had never used the token, keeping it quietly in his grasp, dormant, waiting for the day it would burst into blazing flame.

Now, the token rested in Qin Wang's hands.

The Mo Juzi's gaze slowly hardened.

The dark sleeves stirred slightly; Qin Wang sat cross-legged, clutching the Mo Juzi Token, rising—and beneath the fluttering sleeves, the Mo Juzi almost felt a fierce fire beginning to coalesce.

That day, Qin Wang summoned all Mo Jia across the world.

Mo Jia, return to Qin.

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