Chapter 121: First Volume, Chapter 121: Fundraising Assembly

First Volume, Chapter 121: Fundraising Assembly

Qin Feng simply sat on the edge of the viewing platform, legs dangling outside, swaying lazily as he smiled at the crowd: "Keep arguing, why'd you stop? I love watching chaos—go on, don't stop."

Everyone present were prominent figures from Jingzhong.

They had been treated like monkeys by Qin Feng, and though furious, they were also deeply ashamed.

Li Rui, having clashed wits with Qin Feng for so long, possessed ample "practical experience," and immediately added fuel to the fire: "Qin Feng, everyone in Jingzhong knows what you've done! You're a disgrace to the Noble Youth! You don't deserve to call yourself a Noble Youth—you're a Jingshixiaoren!"

At these words, the crowd nodded in agreement.

Just as everyone assumed Qin Feng would be humiliated and crawl into a crack in the ground, he burst out laughing—with unmistakable sincerity.

"Well said, thank you!" Qin Feng sincerely thanked Li Rui.

The crowd fell silent again, exchanging bewildered glances—they thought Qin Feng's head must've been kicked by a donkey. How could he thank Li Rui after being scolded like that? This fellow wasn't just stupid—he was shameless to a cultivated realm.

Li Rui flicked his sleeve and snorted: "So you finally have self-awareness—you know you're a Jingshixiaoren!"

Qin Feng became even happier, as if the insult "Jingshixiaoren" delighted him beyond measure, making him giddy—leaving the crowd utterly baffled. Could this fool not tell praise from insult? He truly was a Madmen!

Under the scornful and confused stares of the crowd, Qin Feng, as if receiving great praise, beamed: "Being a Jingshixiaoren is wonderful! As the saying goes: the ruler is the boat, the people are the water; water can carry the boat, and also capsize it. I, for one, am honored to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Commoners of Heaven. Or do you consider the words 'Jingshixiaoren' to be a term of banishment?"

At these words, the hall fell utterly silent.

Even though everyone present considered themselves "above others," such thoughts could only remain in the mind—they dared not speak them aloud, or they'd invite trouble at this critical moment.

The crowd was stunned. Qin Feng was too good at exploiting loopholes, especially in wordplay—infuriating and terrifying.

At that moment, Qin Feng dropped his smile, stood up slowly, and announced loudly: "Since you all believe I am unworthy to be a Noble Youth, and only fit to mingle with Commoners, then I accept it. You, sons of officials, stand high above—of course you disdain to associate with us Commoners, ants that we are. How could we force you? I, Qin Feng, am merely a Beijing Civilian."

Some quick-witted ones instantly reversed their expressions, beaming with false smiles: "Hahaha, well said! I, too, am merely a Beijing Civilian, just like Qin Young Master."

These Noble Youth, who had always looked down on Commoners, now all changed faces, loudly championing the term "Commoners."

Li Rui's face flushed red and pale—he had stoked a roaring fire, only for Qin Feng to douse it with a single sentence.

Li Rui refused to yield, growled: "Qin Feng, you haven't explained the Qingyi Ceremony yet—what exactly are you trying to do?!"

The crowd quickly changed the subject.

"Yes, Qin Feng, what exactly are you up to?"

"If you've nothing else, we'll leave."

Only then did Qin Feng stroll forward two steps, had Qin Xiaofu bring a table and paper and brush, then scanned the crowd calmly: "Now that the nation faces crisis, with disasters striking repeatedly and the National Treasury running deficits, I'm sure you all understand the gravity of these matters."

"The Qingyi Ceremony serves two purposes: to burn incense and affirm resolve, and to select young leaders for military service. Though it may seem distant from us, as the saying goes: 'The rise and fall of the nation rests on every man's shoulders.' We, men of aspiration, must use this Qingyi Ceremony to contribute our share."

"I, Qin Feng, call upon you all to donate generously—three or five hundred taels is not too little, ten or eighty thousand taels is not too much. All funds raised, beyond those needed for the Qingyi Ceremony, will be channeled into the National Treasury. And every donor will be recorded by name, their contributions presented to the Emperor during the Qingyi Ceremony, so your merits shall be remembered."

At the word "donate," the crowd fell utterly still.

They finally understood—Qin Feng was scheming again to extort Silver!

Li Rui had expected some brilliant tactic, but instead got this crude trick—fundraising? Fundraise your grandmother!

Seeing the Noble Youth hesitate, Li Rui stepped forward to lead, feigning shame: "Qin Young Master speaks wisely, but alas, I am penniless—my heart is willing, but my purse is empty."

With Li Rui leading, the Noble Youth no longer hesitated—they all declared they would not donate a single tael, not in this life.

Li Rui secretly gloated—he'd ensure Qin Feng raised not a single tael!

Qin Feng had anticipated this outcome. These Wanfu, after all, spent hundreds or thousands of taels freely on courtesans and wine—but asking them to fund the nation? Impossible.

Qin Feng wasn't fazed. He turned, stuck the paper to the wall. Only then did the crowd notice it was covered in names—gasps erupted everywhere.

"How is my name on here?!"

"When did Qin Feng record my name?!"

"Did he and Lin Quqi go door-to-door and register us all already?!"

Under the stunned stares of the crowd, Qin Feng picked up his Brush, drew a thick red X over Li Rui's name, and grinned: "Since Young Master Li is penniless and truly unable, I won't force you."

Without waiting for Li Rui's reaction, Qin Feng scanned the list, found his own name, and said: "As the organizer, I must lead by example—I, personally, donate Five Ten Thousand Liang of Silver. Though a modest sum, I pray for Shedynasty to endure for ten thousand generations."

As he spoke, Qin Feng wrote beneath his name: "Five Ten Thousand Liang of Silver"—in crooked, uneven characters.

Then he turned, smiled warmly at the crowd, and his gaze locked onto a young man: "Isn't that the Lu Family's young master? Your father, Lu, is Minister of Rites—how much will you donate? If you won't, no need to force yourself."

Qin Feng pointed his Brush directly at the Lu Young Master's name, ready to draw a red X.

The Lu Young Master turned pale, swallowed hard—he knew this list would be presented to the Emperor. If his name was crossed out, he'd earn the Emperor's hatred.

This list would become "evidence," leaving an indelible stain on his father's career.

The Lu Young Master dared not hesitate—he shouted: "Qin Young Master, wait! I… I never said I wouldn't donate! For Shedynasty, I donate… two ten thousand taels…"

The Lu Young Master nearly wept—those two ten thousand taels were his entire year's spending. For his father's career, he had no choice.

Qin Feng immediately marked the donation amount beside the Lu Young Master's name, praising him: "No wonder you're the Lu Young Master—truly enlightened! The Emperor will surely be delighted to see the Minister of Rites' son so devoted to Shedynasty."

With words spoken thus, even though everyone inwardly cursed Qin Feng's ancestors, they forced smiles and began donating enthusiastically.

Soon, Qin Feng's cheerful voice echoed throughout Zui Xian Lou.