Chapter 281: The Legend of Ji You

There were many ways to respond to the request.

"No" meant refusal, "yes" meant approval and permission, and either answer clearly stated one's position.

But the phrase "never mind" falling into ears amid the snowstorm seemed strangely out of place.

Because although this phrase also meant refusal, it carried far more helplessness than "no."

Want to go eat? Never mind—the work isn't done.

Want to visit the flower houses? Never mind—I'm already married.

In short, "never mind" was a refusal tinged with resignation after agreement.

Among those gathered along the Nishan Sacred Path watching the unfolding situation, many suddenly turned and left, walking through the snowstorm toward the distance.

A trail of footprints scattered across the thick snow.

Some headed toward the Prince's Mansion, some toward the Immortal Supervisory Office, some toward the imperial palace, some toward the capital's noble families, and others toward inns.

Inside the inner garden of the Chong Mansion, servants were carrying ladders, pausing and moving beneath the eaves, climbing up and down to remove icicles so they wouldn't injure the master.

While they worked, Prince Chong sat by the hearth drinking tea and reading secret letters from his close officials.

"Jiang Rong is meticulous in thought—he chose well."

"Your Highness flatters me, but those old fools in the Immortal Supervisory Office are infuriating—they've repeatedly posed as loyal ministers to obstruct us, and His Majesty still hasn't decided."

"The decision should come soon…"

Prince Chong clutched the secret letter and muttered under his breath.

After the Immortal Supervisory Office left the capital to aid disaster victims, the pro-immortal faction under his direction relentlessly pressured his young emperor nephew in numerous settings, seizing power.

The pro-imperial reformists, who once opposed him fiercely, now dared only to fume in silence.

Their silence stemmed entirely from the success of the recent snow-viewing banquet, which drew countless immortals to lend their support.

These pedantic scholars talk as if they'd tear heaven and earth apart—but when faced with real trouble, their weakness shows plainly.

This was also aided by the snow disaster itself, since the Immortal Supervisory Office had been dispatched to relieve suffering, leaving no one to resist them.

Yet what Prince Chong could not stop thinking about was tax collection.

Every time he raised it, the crippled old minister Wang Mingchang—who had once been dispatched to the snowlands—would bang his head against the palace hall to prove his loyalty, stalling progress.

So Prince Chong changed tactics and submitted a memorial recommending his trusted ally Jiang Rong to join the military expansion effort.

Military expansion itself offered little profit, but the funding behind the Zhenbei Army was a huge pie—and as the army grew, the pie grew larger still.

In Qingyun's realm, heavy taxes accounted for sixty percent of revenue: half went to the immortal sects, only thirty percent entered the state treasury, and the remaining seventy percent went entirely to sustaining the army—it was rich beyond measure.

This time, no one opposed his memorial.

Why?

Because alongside his memorial, certain officials close to the immortal sects also submitted memorials denouncing the Immortal Supervisory Office, accusing them of bearing the title "Immortal Supervisors" yet brazenly cutting off spirit stone shipments, provoking the immortals—their hearts deserved execution, deserved execution.

The Xia imperial authority had weakened; for years it had merely served as a tool for the immortal sects to collect taxes and maintain border stability.

Even the emperor could not withstand such pressure—his face grew darker by the day.

But no one expected Prince Chong's face to look just as grim.

For inwardly, he did not wish to link himself to either military expansion or the spirit stone cutoff.

Military expansion was merely an internal court struggle—but tying himself to the spirit stone cutoff involved far too much.

Moreover, he had entangled himself with the most inscrutable, most baffling person of all.

He sat in his high-backed chair, turning over the first secret letter again and again—he had read it all afternoon.

Beside him sat his daughter, Princess Changle, flipping through a sword manual, yet she had remained on the first page the entire time.

Several young officials who had delivered the secret letters waited in the hall, watching this scene, exchanging glances.

In their view, the accusation of cutting off spirit stones was so grave the Immortal Supervisory Office could never survive—yet they could not understand why the prince and princess seemed so uneasy.

At that moment, a young servant braved the snowstorm and returned: "Your Highness, Elder Peng from the Heavenly Book Academy has appeared in place of Elder Fang."

Prince Chong set down the letter: "What did he say?"

"Elder Fang said… never mind…"

Zhao Yunyue's eyelashes trembled slightly; after a long pause, she suddenly heard the sound of someone rising.

She snapped back to attention and looked up—Prince Chong was standing and heading toward the side chamber.

"Where is Father going?"