Chapter 114: I

Pan Yun truly missed her father; by now, he should have received the money she sent him, right?

Pan Hong had indeed received it; he sat on a stool, staring at the money on the table.

Pan Yue and Pan Yu also sat beside the table, both silent like their father.

But silence had to be broken; Pan Yu glanced left at his father, right at his brother, swallowed hard, then whispered, "Father, I want to become a Daoist Priest too—Daoist Priests make so much money…"

"Shut up!" Pan Yue shot him a furious glare—didn't he see their father's brows were knotted with worry?

He comforted his father, "This money might have come from Xiao Mei and her teachers—didn't she write that her senior and junior disciples treated her well?"

Pan Hong said gravely, "What worries me is the experiment she's conducting. At first, I thought she was just using it as an excuse to send us money, but now it's clear she's truly doing the experiment—otherwise, she wouldn't have sent us so much money in installments. But…"

"World Rule Tolerance Experiment—just the name sounds ominous. Is she trying to defy the entire World Rule?"

Pan Yue's brows also furrowed tightly.

Pan Yu asked in a tiny voice, "What's a World Rule?"

Pan Yue: "It's heaven and earth, the Heavenly Lord, the Dao."

Pan Yu's eyes were blank. "Does such a thing even exist?"

Pan Yue hesitated only a moment before saying, "It must exist. If not, where did the first matter come from? Matter must have followed certain laws to form the world, to create heaven and earth, then people and things. We all follow certain World Rules—like birth, aging, sickness, death."

Pan Yu fell silent—he heard, but didn't understand.

He emptied his mind, sat there woodenly, listening to his father and brother discuss.

He couldn't grasp what they were talking about, but he understood the outcome: they had no solution, only passive acceptance.

Guangxin Prefecture is so far from Datong, and we're of such low status—what can we do?

After the two sons left, Pan Hong stared at the money on the table, clenched his teeth, pulled out ink and brush, swallowed his shame, and with trembling fingers wrote letters to his former colleagues and the deposed Xue Xuan.

Since his wrongful exile, Pan Hong had never contacted them; he believed himself blameless—innocent before the people, the ruler, and the law.

One of the charges against him was flattering superiors and forming cliques for personal gain.

So after his exile, he never reached out to a single colleague.

He didn't know what had happened to Pan Yun in Guangxin Prefecture; to bring her home and let her stand openly in the world, he must be exonerated and return to Jingcheng.

Exoneration—this case had already been stamped final by the Emperor, with the eunuch Wang Zhen watching over it; it was harder than climbing to heaven.

Though he kept reassuring his two sons that things would improve once they were exonerated and returned.

But deep inside, he knew that even if Wang Zhen fell, his case was unlikely to be overturned—it had the Emperor's seal.

Could he possibly replace the Emperor himself?

The Emperor is only fifteen this year—he might never live to see a new one.

Though hope was slim, Pan Hong still picked up his brush, face flushed with shame, and wrote to them about the hardships of exile in Datong.

Pan Hong waited until the ink dried before sealing the letters and sending them out.

Outside, everyone he met smiled and greeted him.

Since Pan Hong became the village head of this stretch, the Pan family had become popular—everywhere people greeted them, and everyone offered help with tasks.

After Pan Yue joined the army under Captain Qin, letters and packages sent through the postal relay were no longer inspected.

Pan Hong realized: no one in Jingcheng was watching them anymore; the ones who had inspected their mail and confiscated their belongings were all local Datong relay station staff.

Someone wanted to profit from them.

Indeed, petty demons are hard to deal with.

With Pan Yue advancing in the army, they now had reason to fear them—so they stopped touching their letters and packages.

The relay system was slow, and Pan Hong's colleagues, fellow examinees, and old friends were scattered far and wide—letters wouldn't reach them quickly.

While waiting for replies, Pan Hong paid attention to the fortune of himself and his two sons, but noticed no change.

Oh, there was one change: as their money increased, Pan Hong and his sons grew bolder—not only did Pan Yue thrive in the army, but Pan Yu's health improved day by day.

After confirming his injury wouldn't affect his future, Captain Qin had selected him, waiting only for his body to fully recover before assigning him as a lowliest soldier.

Even though he'd be a common soldier, it was far better than his current status as a miscellaneous laborer, doing private chores for officers in every camp.

The former was at least a soldier, with a chance to earn merit and rise; the latter was a military slave—anyone could command them.

Since the Pan brothers would serve under Captain Qin, everyone knew he was upright; if the brothers had talent, they'd eventually rise.

No one doubted their ability—if they were incapable, would Captain Qin have noticed them?

They'd taken a Tartar's head without weapons. After using Tao Ji's remedy, Pan Yu recovered quickly; as his father went out to mail letters, he stuck close to Pan Yue. "Big brother, please ask Captain Qin to let me join the army right away."

"Winter's coming—wait until after the New Year."

"No," Pan Yu said. "Don't think I don't know—this is when the Tartars come down to raid. Even if the two nations won't fight, heads still count for merit. After the New Year, the Tartars won't come down—only training and farming left."

He added, "I really don't want to farm anymore."

Pan Yue frowned; Pan Yu hurried on, "Big brother, you're right—Father's exoneration is as hard as climbing to heaven, so we can't rely on him. Our family's future depends on us brothers. Xiao Mei can't rely on Father either—only us."

Pan Yue thought a moment, then said, "Eat your medicine faithfully these days, and practice horse stance daily. I'll speak to Captain Qin—see if you can join now. But remember: once you're in the army, you obey me. Don't act recklessly, understood?"

Pan Yu nodded vigorously. "Big brother, I'll do whatever you say."

Pan Yue: "Mean it."

"If I break it, let my ass burst open."

Pan Yue sneered. "It will."

Pan Yu warmly saw him off to the alley's mouth.

!. read

Pan Yun knew none of this; it took her several days to receive her father's letter, in which he told her nothing bad had happened lately—on the contrary, things were getting better, like Pan Yu's recovery…

Pan Yun laughed loudly, holding her waist and declaring boldly, "World Rule? Hmph, am I afraid of you?"

Pan Xiaohei walked past her feet, his little head bobbing. "Too proud—you're too proud. Beware of joy turning to sorrow."

Pan Yun snorted. "My luck's never been better."

She let go of her waist, swung the letter, and turned to head back to Huishan, when a familiar fatty stood right before her.

Pan Yun immediately composed herself, adopting a dignified posture, smiling faintly and nodding, "Good man."

The fatty looked at her with a complex expression and said, "Temple Keeper, I've come to tell you: my younger brother failed the autumn examination."

Pan Yun already knew he had failed; she kept smiling without speaking.

The fatty sighed, "My younger brother is very interested in how you predicted he wouldn't pass, so he wants to discuss the Dao with you. Temple Keeper, when are you free? Please come to my home."

Pan Yun frowned slightly and said, "I have no time this year."

What a joke—it's him who's interested in her, not her in him. Why should she go to him? How dare he think he's so important?

Pan Yun would not go. Absolutely not!

The fatty widened his eyes. "Temple Keeper Pan, my younger brother is the youngest Licentiate in this entire region."

Pan Yun's face remained expressionless as she replied flatly, "Wow, that's amazing! But I still have no time this year."

The fatty gaped.

Pan Yun walked past him. What a joke—she was the deity's messenger. The deity needed incense and faith, but did she have to beg every single person?

Back home, Pan Yun burned incense for her master, muttering, "Losing one or two believers won't matter. We need high-quality believers. People like them—only come to ask for favors, curious about us, yet act so superior—hmph, we don't want them at all, right, Master?"

The mountain god gave no reply, but Wang Feiyin, who was meditating beside her, opened his eyes and glanced at her.

Pan Yun stuck the incense in the holder, then went to fetch water to wipe the feet of her master's statue, the altar, the table, and everything else.

"Of course, we don't want fanatical believers either. If our mountain shrine were the only one in the entire world, I'd be overwhelmed, and so would you," Pan Yun droned on. "They demand too much, wish too big. If I can't fulfill their requests or answer their questions, your magic power is limited, they won't get what they seek, and eventually they'll turn against us."

"A transaction must be mutual: they make a plea, you sprinkle a bit of magic power to help them, and in return, you gain faith and incense—that's how the deal works…"

Wang Feiyin, annoyed by her babbling, interrupted: "Stop muttering. Our mountain shrine has barely any believers. We finally hooked one family, and you're pushing them away?"

Pan Yun: "Big Brother, you weren't there—you don't know how arrogant he was. Just like this—"

Pan Yun tilted her chin upward, gazing down with disdain, lowering her voice: "My younger brother is the youngest Licentiate in this entire region!"

Wang Feiyin shook his head. "You're the Temple Keeper. Why are you arguing over this?"

"I'm not arguing. I'm not angry at all," Pan Yun said. "That's why I told him I have no time this year—not that I'll never have time."

Wang Feiyin: "Fine, fine, fine—you're not angry. After you finish cleaning, come practice. Today I'll teach you how to calculate the Eight Characters. You can draw intermediate talismans, yet you can't calculate the Eight Characters? What would people say?"

"Oh." Pan Yun obediently stepped forward.

Wang Feiyin took out brush and ink. "The Eight Characters depend mostly on calculation. Your math must be sharp. By the way, how many texts on calculation have you studied?"

Pan Yun smiled. "Calculation texts? Don't worry. I may not know much else, but on calculation texts, I'm certainly not lacking. I dare say, across all of Mount Sanqing, if I'm second in math, no one dares claim first."

Today's lucky numbers are those ending in 7—screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)