Chapter 826: Standing, Sitting, Kneeling, Lying Down

Qi cultivator Jin Xin'an and Grand Daoist Master Wu Lingsu did not leave the small building. Although Wu Lingsu had attained the status of a living immortal through unconventional means, he always knew his true capabilities. He never became conceited due to his smooth sailing in Tai'an City. It wasn't that Wu Lingsu had exceptional resolve; rather, his formidable wife kept him grounded. Before he could become too self-satisfied, she would douse him with cold water, making it difficult to lose his senses. After all, the vermilion talismans pasted on the palace gates during New Year's greetings and farewells were her handiwork; Wu Lingsu merely feigned taking them from his sleeve and affixing them. At this moment, the mere thought of a recent request from her made Wu Lingsu tremble and break into a sweat. Was he truly going to serve two families? Strictly speaking, not two families with different surnames, as they shared the same surname. However, a power struggle between imperial family members sharing the same surname, akin to brothers fighting within their own walls, could be far more brutal than factional infighting at court. If it could guarantee the Wu family's prosperity and ensure his only son, Wu Shizhen, could inherit the title of Feathered Robe Chancellor, then perhaps it would be acceptable. But following her suggestion would bring considerable wealth alongside even greater risks.

Wu Lingsu was full of trepidation. Before today, he might have believed the Zhao imperial family of Liyang could provide him with a life-preserving talisman, dismissing a distant vassal prince in the northwest as insignificant. But after that young man killed his way into Tai'an City and even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, Grand Master Wu had to seriously reconsider.

Jin Xin'an did not dwell on Grand Master Wu's lapse, merely assuming it was a fake immortal encountering a true immortal, worried about the Wu family's standing in the Liyang court. Moreover, Jin Xin'an had his own troubles and couldn't be bothered to pay attention to a puppet of two emperors. Jin Xin'an looked up at the portraits on the wall; the paintings were intact, but many figures in them had vanished into thin air. For a Qigong grandmaster who aspired to become a Terrestrial Immortal and then ascend to godhood before Heaven's Gate closed, this was a tremendous blow. Since ancient times, Daoist cultivators had held to a strict belief: those who ascend achieve eternal life! But if even immortals could perish, then if he helped Xie Guanying commit evil, could he truly escape the karmic cycle, even if he ascended?

Having connections at court makes it easier to be an official; is it not the same for becoming an immortal? Why did Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master's Residence produce ascendants almost every generation since the Great Feng Dynasty, while Wudang Mountain, also a Daoist ancestral temple, saw its incense wane? If Patriarch Lu hadn't passed through Heaven's Gate without entering, would things have been entirely different with Lu Dongxuan's "ancestral blessings"? With the profound cultivation of Huang Manshan and Wang Chonglou, wouldn't ascension have been within reach? Why had that blessed land gone without an immortal for four hundred years?

Compared to Wu Lingsu's apprehension and Jin Xin'an's absentmindedness, the two elderly Daoist priests, who had long been responsible for offering and replenishing incense, looked gaunt. One leaned against a pillar, his eyes vacant. The other knelt devoutly on a prayer mat, silently chanting a true mantra.

Xie Guanying sat languidly on the edge of the Heaven-Connecting Platform, his feet dangling in the air, seemingly unconcerned about the collateral damage of a city in chaos. In truth, whether it was hiding his abilities or escaping, Xie Guanying considered himself second to none, and no one would dare claim to be first. Within Western Shu, he had dodged Deng Tai'a's murderous千里飞剑 (thousand-mile flying sword), but even earlier, at the end of the Hongjia era, he had evaded two truly harrowing pursuits. In those days of "Northern Xie, Southern Li," Xie Guanying and Li Yishan were both spirited young prodigies who immediately connected and discussed the world. Xie Guanying, especially skilled in prophecies, even revealed divine secrets, bringing about immense disaster. Li Yishan, a humble scholar, was a lone wolf, possessing only talent and no background; by all accounts, he should have died long ago. Yet, by inadvertently attaching himself to Xu Xiao, he managed to survive that great storm. In contrast, Xie Feiyu, who came from a powerful clan, was abandoned by all and marked for death by East Sea Wudi City. Even the empress dowager who later ascended the throne harbored resentment, going so far as to have Tuoba Pusa infiltrate Liyang to assassinate him. For this, he had to conceal his identity, living a life of quiet anonymity at court, so much so that even his own flesh and blood didn't know whether he was alive or dead. Thus, there was no longer Xie Feiyu, who had once hoped to leap through the dragon gate; only Mr. Xie of Tai'an City, who was meant to observe from behind the scenes.

In Xie Guanying's eyes, after twenty-plus years of dispassionately observing world affairs, Li Yishan and Nalan Youci belonged to one type of person. Xun Ping, Zhang Julu, and Yuan Benxi belonged to another. Huang Longshi, who caused chaos throughout the Spring and Autumn periods with his eloquent tongue, was yet another type.

But ultimately, Xie Guanying felt they were all of the same kind: they schemed for others, for a region, for a nation, for the world, but were uniquely inept at scheming for themselves. If they couldn't even look out for themselves, how could they hope to benefit the world? Among them, Yuan Benxi wanted to scheme for himself but couldn't. Huang Longshi could do it but disdained to. What Xie Guanying schemed for was truly astonishing, an act of silent brilliance: he wanted the Central Plains to sink once more, and then for him to personally create a millennium of peace. To think Xie Guanying merely sought the position of a Grand Secretary or Imperial Tutor, or a few decades of peace, or even to become an ascending immortal, would be to gravely underestimate him. Since Huang Longshi claimed there was never a hundred-year emperor or a thousand-year dynasty, then Xie Guanying intended to challenge this "outsider" who claimed to know the future.

Xie Guanying suddenly felt a pang of loneliness. Most of his old acquaintances were gone over the years; aside from Nalan Youci, it seemed all others had died. While there were many new faces, apart from the highly successful Chen Wang, others, even if their futures were promising, still needed various trials and scrutiny. Comparatively, Xu Beizhi and Chen Xiliang of Beiliang had emerged quickly. And Jin Lanting, who was not inferior to Chen Wang in official position and was now the Left Vice Minister of Rites? Xie Guanying never took such a clown seriously. A meteoric rise like a fire blazing on oil was never a lasting path, merely a fleeting bloom. In this transition between old and new, Xie Guanying did not have high hopes for Zhao Youling and Yin Maochun. However, Lu Baijie, Yuan Guo, and Han Lin, these three civil officials, whether demoted or promoted to local positions, had the potential to take over from Qi Yanglong and Huan Wen. Their brief ascendancy, however, was still just paving the way for Chen Wang, Yan Chiji, Li Jifu, and others.

During the Yonghui era, the Liyang Dynasty had only two true pillars: Zhang Julu, the "Blue-Eyed Boy," in civil administration, and Xu Xiao, the "Human Butcher," in military affairs. Their presence alone deterred all the powerful figures, from dragons to fish and shrimp, across the court and the land. With Zhang Julu, ambitious scholars diligently governed, while those who favored lofty discourse continued their philosophical debates. With Xu Xiao, Chen Zhibao couldn't leave Western Shu, Cao Changqing couldn't restore his kingdom, Prince Yan Zhao Bing dared not openly march north, Gu Jiantang could only serve as his Governor-General of Liaodong, and the Beiliang army dared not invade south.

However, precisely because of these two—one at the center of court, controlling the promotions of all officials, the other on the northwestern frontier, commanding 300,000 elite cavalry—Emperor Zhao Dun dared not pass the throne to his son Zhao Zhuan, for the throne was too fraught with danger.

The biggest dilemma was this: if Xu Xiao didn't die, Beiliang wouldn't dare risk a full-scale invasion of the Central Plains. And Beiliang could use defense to wear down Beiliang, allowing Liyang to flourish and grow stronger, thereby containing and ultimately exhausting Beiliang. But if Liyang actively marched north into the desert, first, Beiliang's chances of victory were slim, and second, Zhao Dun dared not. Xu Xiao wouldn't rebel, but if the Northern Expedition succeeded and Crown Prince Xu Fengnian established authority during it, would Xu Xiao consider securing a position for his son grander than that of a vassal prince? Even if Xu Xiao wouldn't, would Xu Fengnian himself rebel following the White Robe Case in the capital? Even if the Xu family only conquered half of Beiliang, with the vast territory of the Southern Dynasty for strategic depth and abundant supplies, how could Liyang resist the battle-hardened Beiliang cavalry? At such a precarious time, could the new emperor Zhao Zhuan, who had little prestige to begin with, truly rely on the eloquent words of Tai'an City's civil officials to stop the Beiliang cavalry?

Using the Western Chu rebellion to weaken vassal states and curb local military power, while simultaneously staging a grand martial demonstration on the Guangling Dao battlefield, was a desperate strategy by the late emperor, Zhang Julu, Huan Wen, and Yuan Benxi. It was essentially buying time. While Xu Fengnian was not yet fully established, even if Western Chu hadn't rebelled, Liyang would have forced Cao Changqing to raise a rebellion. The court consecutively appointed Gu Jiantang to oversee Liaodong and Chen Zhibao to Western Shu, constantly adopting an aggressive posture towards Beiliang. Wouldn't an unassisted Beiliang appear as an opportunity for Beiliang, which had been building its strength for twenty years? Wouldn't there be hope of conquering Beiliang, which finally lacked Xu Xiao's command over its border army? Beiliang attacking Beiliang would have the same significance as Xu Xiao's victory at Xileibi, though at immense cost, the result would be profound: a single battle to solidify the imperial surname!

Now, it seemed the general trend of the two dynasties had not changed, but significant deviations had occurred. The Guangling Dao campaign still hadn't seen rapid improvement, even after Wu Chongxuan abandoned Southern Xinjiang to join Liyang. Beiliang, moreover, had achieved a hard-fought and tragic victory—both brutal and glorious. Even more unexpectedly, the Beiliang border army suffered 100,000 fewer casualties than Liyang's projections, especially its 130,000-140,000 cavalry, which remained largely intact, still maintaining a formidable strength of around 100,000. Originally, Beiliang was expected to win a tragic victory, and the second Liang-Mang War would directly spread conflict into Beiliang territory, possibly even to Ling Prefecture. Now, it appeared that Beiliang's desperate fight outside the passes was no pipe dream. Thus, Xu Fengnian's unauthorized departure from his vassal territory and Liyang's repeated retreats were not because Tai'an City had suddenly decided to be benevolent and reasonable, but because they feared that the arrogant Beiliang, enraged, might take irreversible actions.

Regrettably, the strategists of the older generation, except for the disheartened Tantantan Weng, had all successively passed away.

Now, the crucial factor was how Grand Libationer Qi, on whom Zhao Dun had placed high hopes, would respond.

Before his death, Zhao Dun had made many overt and covert plans, laying numerous groundwork in the officialdom. These gave Zhao Zhuan ample opportunity to wield both authority and benevolence after his ascension. So far, the young emperor was doing quite well. Even Huan Wen, who harbored resentment, remained diligent in the new Xiangfu dynasty, working as a "landscape repairman" with seemingly few obvious frictions with Qi Yanglong.

Unlike Xu Fengnian, who could win the loyalty of Beiliang soldiers by risking his life on the battlefield, the young emperor Zhao Zhuan was like the noblest bird in a cage, relying solely on the facade of his dragon robe. Thus, his imperial majesty needed years of meticulous effort to forge. Of course, if Zhao Zhuan possessed Xu Fengnian's martial arts cultivation—for instance, if he had defeated Cao Changqing before Gu Jiantang and Liu Haoshi when Cao Changqing and the Western Chu princess came to offer gifts—then it would be a different story. But the path of martial arts never offered an easy way to become a Grand Master without risking one's life. Even a rapidly improving Xuanyuan Qingfeng had done something as insane as fighting Wang Xianzhi to the death across a river. A bastard son with talent as exceptional as Yuan Benxi's, Jiang Fuding, even after receiving instruction from a host of masters including Gu Jiantang, Liu Haoshi, and Qi Jiajie, ultimately ended up as a humble tide-watcher in the East Sea.

Xie Guanying murmured, "Several pillars of the state can jointly support a Golden Imperial Palace swaying in the storm. But a single pillar can keep a dynasty standing firm even in the face of a once-in-a-century tempest. Zhao Zhuan, Chen Wang by your side is still too young. To become a figure like Zhang Julu takes time. You can wait, but others are unwilling to."

Xie Guanying closed his eyes, perfectly composed.

He didn't care that those immortals who had emerged from the portraits were rushing to their deaths like moths to a flame. In any case, it was the fate of the Xu and Zhao families that was being depleted, and Xie Guanying, who had personally orchestrated this situation, was too pleased to be concerned.

If both factions of qi cultivators, North and South, perished, it would be even more conducive to Xie Guanying's long-term plans. So, if Jin Xin'an submitted, that would be best. If not, Xie Guanying wasn't only capable of escaping. However, Tantai Pingjing had coincidentally "dragged her family" to Beiliang, making it difficult to act against her. Now she seemed to be alone in Guangling Dao, which was a potential hidden danger. As for Landa Mountain in the Western Regions, which no longer coldly avoided the world, it had put aside its pride after Liu Songtao's death and chosen to enter the world by allying with Beiliang. The white-robed monk Li Dangxin had also gone to Beiliang, and even Huyan Daguan and his family of three... why were they all dragging their families? Most recently, the Duke Yansheng had also left the capital without warning, even though this sage had recently helped the Liyang Zhao imperial family persuade Cao Changqing.

Xie Guanying, who had initially been somewhat smiling, suddenly frowned, opened his eyes, and gazed toward the northwest.

Xie Guanying felt somewhat annoyed. Had his vision blurred because he, too, had become part of the game?

Then Xie Guanying suddenly withdrew his gaze, looking down. He saw the seemingly innocent young Supervisor, the child nicknamed "Little Bookshelf," grinning slightly at him.

From the high vantage point on the palace roof, the young emperor, Chen Wang, and Lu Xu were mostly silent. Only the Chief Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial occasionally stood under the eaves, reporting the situation at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau in a clear, audible voice.

When Zhao Zhuan heard that two carriages and four women had appeared there, the young emperor felt a sense of self-mockery and helplessness.

Later, his brother-in-law Yan Chiji's summons to the palace was at his own instruction. Getting Yan Chiji to deliver a message to Xu Fengnian was also an indispensable and crucial step. But when Yan Chiji rushed back and knelt motionless under the eaves, the young emperor was clearly angered.

Even the Seal-holding Eunuch Song Tanglu felt somewhat uneasy.

Song Tanglu knew that besides his identity as an imperial relative, Yan Chiji was a very special measuring stick.

As for the scales in the late emperor's heart, they included Grand Academician Yan Jiexi. This dual heavyweight of Beiliang's literary and official circles, by betraying Beiliang to rise in court, naturally delighted the late emperor, who showered the Yan family with extra favor. Yan Jiexi was granted one of the six Grand Academician titles, and his daughter, Yan Dongwu, was now empress. Jin Lanting was also like this, which is why his rapid ascent astounded the capital. Yao Baifeng, too, but this master of Neo-Confucianism had sided with Beiliang and Xu Xiao multiple times in court assemblies, so he remained a Grand Libationer of the Imperial College with only a reputation for integrity but no real power. Yuan Guo, an old associate of Zhang Julu, was even worse off; after finally making a comeback as Minister of Rites, he was quickly dismissed from Tai'an City for slightly misstepping on matters of canal transport and population registers.

For a literati, integrity is very important.

For a civil official, integrity is far less important than scholars themselves imagine.

A single word's difference, yet a world apart.

The Emperor and that young Palace Attendant, both with excellent reputations as sovereign and minister, stood (or knelt) in a high-low, seated-kneeling standoff.

Chen Wang smiled and stood up. The young emperor seemed to petulantly say, "Don't bother with him," but Chen Wang still descended the ladder to the ground, trying to help Yan Chiji up. Failing to do so, Chen Wang didn't force it. Standing beside the kneeling young talent from the Hanlin Academy, he looked at the tightly closed palace gate and gently said, "Get up. The more you kneel, the more useless it is. Delving into the emperor's thoughts should not be done too deeply, but it should not be entirely absent. You are not an official who seeks fame or favors by being 'upright,' and of course, you, Yan Chiji, don't need to, nor can you actually pull it off. If that's the case, instead of letting His Majesty redirect his anger towards the King of Beiliang, you might as well get up, shamelessly follow me up to the roof, even if just to look at the scenery. At worst, things might get even worse, right?"

Yan Chiji remained kneeling, silent.

Chen Wang, usually gentle and respectful, suddenly lowered his voice and said sternly, "What, aren't you afraid of implicating your father and your sister?! Or does your Yan family's legacy thrive more than the flourishing Jiangnan Lu family, so losing one Yan Chiji means you can easily pull out a few more?! If you, Yan Chiji, are truly capable, then drag the Empress and Grand Academician Yan here to kneel with you. Then I, Chen Wang, will kneel with all of you. How about we all join in the fun?!"

Yan Chiji's shoulders trembled. He stopped silently weeping and began sobbing uncontrollably.

Chen Wang sighed, saying softly, "I, Chen Wang, am not like you, Young Master Yan; I am just a poor scholar who studied hard in humble circumstances, rising to this position step by step. I have some classmates from my hometown, some from the imperial examinations, and now some colleagues in officialdom, but very few, almost none, whom I can truly call friends. So, while I strongly disagree with you kneeling to plead with His Majesty, I can somewhat understand. Acting on impulse, being loyal to friends—for us, who now have wealth, power, and fame, how simple that is."

Chen Wang's peripheral vision glanced subtly at the python-robed eunuch standing still beside them. The eunuch did not move.

Chen Wang hesitated, then crouched down beside Yan Chiji and said calmly, "The old King of Beiliang commanded the world's most formidable army, hundreds of thousands of cavalry. From the northwestern frontier to Tai'an City, it's not as far as we imagine. Yet, every time the Grand General entered the capital, it was with only a few personal guards. Which of these two things do you think is harder? For ordinary people, it's obviously the former. But for the Grand General, it's the latter. When a military general holds immense power, and a civil official grasps the reins of government, what's difficult isn't the spirited ambition as seen by commoners, but restraining oneself from acting recklessly, and weighing each of the five virtues: loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, righteousness, and affection."

Chen Wang smiled. "The new King of Beiliang, Xu Fengnian, your good brother, has certainly been weighing these five virtues over the years. As a subject, he embodies loyalty. As a son, filial piety. As a commander, benevolence. As a brother, righteousness. As a husband, affection. In my view, his current visit to the capital is unexpected but reasonable. He merely put aside loyalty for filial piety. Actually, I am somewhat disappointed, disappointed that he disregarded military and state affairs for his personal reasons. But I also understand that this is an unreasonable request from me, a wishful thinking to place Xu Fengnian in the position of a sage. In fact, it's quite the opposite: I knew very early on that Xu Fengnian was never a sage. Ultimately, he is a man of the jianghu (martial world) at heart, and he is better suited for the jianghu. In the high halls of court, he is a young vassal prince with unresolved grudges and private grievances. But far away in the jianghu, he could become a great hero whose demeanor is no less than Li Chungang's."

"When he chose to leave the jianghu, shoulder the heavy responsibility, and stand guard at Beiliang's frontier, losing all freedom and facing only death, death, and more death, I believe Xu Fengnian was already very unhappy. In short, he was unhappy. It's a very simple truth, but many people don't see it."

"If anyone says Xu Fengnian should be content, well, I, Chen Wang, am a poor scholar who climbed step by step from the bottom of society to this position today. But there are some things that also make me very unhappy. You can't possibly say I'm talking without feeling the pain, can you? No! If anyone says that and I hear it, I will make them even more unhappy someday. See? I am not a sage either. This has nothing to do with whether I am currently the Left Chief Attendant or if my official hat will be even bigger in the future."

"None of us are sages."

"So, His Majesty isn't either."

"There is justice in heaven and earth, and human nature in people. Living by this principle is certainly not wrong. So, Xu Fengnian, as Xu Xiao's son, coming to the capital and going to the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, is not wrong. His Majesty, as the late emperor's son, is in a difficult position and unwilling to retreat further, which is also not wrong."

"Since that's the case, you, Yan Chiji, have knelt. You and His Majesty both understand the reasoning. Why insist on pushing too far? Even the young children in the capital know this truth: kneeling in court is easy; being able to stand is difficult."

"Or perhaps, let me see, are there gold or silver coins on the ground?"

Yan Chiji finally wiped his tears and stood up.

As Yan Chiji was about to bow in thanks, Chen Wang shook his head, saying, "No, no, Lu Xu already did the same thing in front of His Majesty today. If you do it again, where would His Majesty put his face? If a big hat of 'forming factions for private gain' is placed on me, I can forget about further promotions."

Yan Chiji stated frankly, "A gentleman forms groups but not factions."

Chen Wang paused, then turned and began climbing the ladder, muttering softly, "Wasted an attempt to curry favor. Oh well, saves me money on inviting you for drinks."

Yan Chiji, having misspoken, immediately looked incredibly embarrassed.

Song Tanglu, who had seemingly ignored their conversation, quietly curled the corner of his lips.

On the palace roof, Chen Wang, who had been sitting close to the young emperor, shifted his position. Yan Chiji had no choice but to awkwardly sit between the emperor and Chen Wang.

Zhao Zhuan said coldly, "No longer emulating those upright officials recorded in history who knelt before emperors and offered fatal advice?"

Yan Chiji lowered his head, his expression unclear, and softly said, "Minister Chen is right; as an official, one should aim for promotion and rank. This is human nature."

Chen Wang was immediately left speechless, having his own words used against him. Scholars truly were not easy to deal with.

The blind Lu Xu on the other side smiled playfully.

Zhao Zhuan looked somewhat self-deprecating, sighing, "You're right. You and Xu Fengnian are good brothers who grew up together, so today you knelt to intercede for him. If you, Yan Chiji, were merely a subject of Liyang, I, as emperor, might outwardly rage, and even throw you into an insignificant government office for a few years. But deep down, I wouldn't be truly angry. To say I'm not angry at all would certainly be a lie. However, you are not merely Xu Fengnian's friend, and I am not merely Liyang's emperor. You and I are more than just sovereign and subject; we are family. In the future, I may choose more consorts, and there will inevitably be more imperial in-laws. But I tell you truthfully, you, Yan Chiji, were first the Fourth Prince's brother-in-law, and only then the current emperor's maternal uncle."

Yan Chiji looked astonished.

Zhao Zhuan put his arm around Yan Chiji's shoulder, laughing heartily, and pointed into the distance. "Look! The winds are rising and clouds gathering! I hope one day, the four of us can still sit here together and watch the clouds drift by peacefully!"

Chen Wang's expression was solemn; he sat upright and attentive.

The blind Lu Xu "gazed" into the distance, his hands casually resting on the ridge of the roof.

Tai'an City, as the capital, had many people and naturally many rules. Even officials' residences were divided into three tiers: powerful and wealthy, scholarly and poor, and simply wealthy. For example, the cluster of mansions where the Duke of Yan and Marquis of Huaiyang resided mostly housed those of illustrious lineage, with dukes, marquises, and earls clustered together. A newcomer like Chen Wang, had he not previously forged an in-law relationship with a prince, would have found it impossible to acquire a house there, no matter that he became Left Chief Attendant of the Secretariat. Many of the "pure stream" officials in the capital came from the Hanlin Academy, the Imperial College, and the Censorate. They were both Liyang officials and renowned literati. Living side by side also saved them the effort of traveling to meet friends. There were also poor officials in Tai'an City, such as the early Ministry of Rites, which was a typical "clear water yamen" (an office with little power or opportunity for corruption). Many low-ranking, non-chief officials in the Ministry of Rites even needed to rely on writing fees to survive, living in poverty while ostensibly being "clean-sleeved." The bitterness of this was untold to outsiders.

As for the wealthy, like Song Tianbao, who fraternized with Wang Yuanran, son of the former Minister of Revenue, and Yan Tongshu, legitimate grandson of veteran general Yan Zhenchun—though he had a father wealthy enough to rival two Liaodong provinces—buying a house in Tai'an City could still be awkward. He couldn't squeeze into the ducal and marquess mansions, and going to the scholarly officials' area was uninteresting, as he'd constantly face disdain. Luckily, there was another option: buying a large mansion in the area between the powerful officials' residences and the wealthy merchants' homes. During the day, he could play the role of son or grandson to the capital's official bigwigs; at night, he'd make up his losses from those who were rich but still poorer than him.

Some busybodies had studied the group of capital officials who rose to prominence at the end of Yonghui and beginning of Xiangfu. They largely "rose" from the impoverished area in the southern part of Tai'an City, where scholars and pedants clustered. Then they quickly ascended to the ranks of powerful nobles in the city's northeast, finally buying lavish mansions further east to show off their wealth. If one day they could move and settle in the western part of the capital like Chen Wang, Junior Protector Chen, then their lives would be complete. Not only would they have no regrets, but they would also have done right by their ancestors and descendants.

Led by the Peng family, various northern gentry clans suddenly flocked to the northeastern part of Tai'an City in the second year of Xiangfu. This made houses in this already expensive area even more sought after. This caused many middle-ranking capital officials, who had finally saved some money and hoped to stop renting, to privately curse the "Liaodong barbarians" for being nothing but rich! As the main established force in the capital's northeast, the officials of the Six Ministries of the Grand Secretariat also showed no kindness and were quite distant from these newly arrived gentry neighbors. This was normal. For nearly twenty years, especially after the "Blue-Eyed Boy" (Zhang Julu) personally oversaw the imperial examinations, Liyang no longer deliberately favored northern scholars in the exams. Consequently, southern scholars dominated at least 70% of the positions in every successful imperial examination, forming a distinct pattern of "Northern generals, Southern chancellors." However, in the ten years before Xiangfu, at the end of Yonghui, there were no wars in the realm, so no new generals emerged. Naturally, there were more and more southern officials in court. The Green Faction, known for its unity in court and country, was the most prominent example. As the four "Conquering," four "Pacifying," and four "Garrisoning" generals, mostly from the north, died off, there was less and less space for northern scholars to speak with authority in Tai'an City's northeast. If not for the current presence of the Great General Conquering the North, Ma Lulang, who still held the fort, the southern official bigwigs would have eradicated them. Otherwise, those northern officials would have been squeezed out in various ways until they were miserable.

Therefore, the first thing the Peng family did after acquiring their new mansion was to ceremoniously visit the residence of the Great General Conquering the North. Although it was said that even the ailing Ma Lulang did not meet them, they were personally received by General Antong Ma Zhongxian, the Ma family's legitimate eldest son.

With the Peng family setting a good precedent, the collective migration of the Liaodong wealthy families proceeded relatively smoothly. However, the departure of Minister of War Lu Baijie from the capital and the arrival of Hong Ling Shu, the backbone of the Green Faction, seemingly balanced the江南势力 (Jiangnan forces) in court, with no apparent loss. In reality, the significant drain on their vitality was evident. This, in turn, made the large-scale influx of northern scholars into the capital quite interesting.

The gates of official residences had to be higher than the street level, a rule that had been followed for hundreds of years. The "steps to advancement" in officialdom literally referred to the steps at the entrance. The number of steps was highly significant according to Liyang law: first, one had to be a ranking official; then, the number of steps would be determined by one's official rank. A sixth-rank official could have no more than three steps, while a fourth-rank official could have four. This meant that local prefects and ordinary powerful generals were limited to four steps. Most vice-ministers of the Six Ministries, unless specially granted, had residences with no more than five steps. Ministers of the Six Ministries had six steps, and a very small number could reach seven steps, such as the former Minister of Personnel Zhao Youling, and currently Minister of Rites Sima Puhua, who also received this honor. It was said that on the day the Sima family went to great lengths to add steps to their mansion, the old minister shed tears on his robes right there.

Interestingly, while seven steps were incredibly rare and precious in the northeast, they were commonplace in the area where Chen Wang, the Junior Protector Chen, resided. If your house had fewer than six steps there, you wouldn't have the face to greet people when you went out. Seven steps were also very common; Chen Wang's father-in-law had seven, and even eight steps, like those of Duke Yan Gao Shizhi, were not uncommon. However, officials in the capital all knew that the steps in the city's west were merely superficial, serving as decorations for the court's prestige, relying on ancestral blessings and the Zhao surname. But the steps in the northeast were genuinely earned through the official positions of the most recent two generations. The saying "seven steps in the west are less rare than five in the north" illustrates this point. And in the capital's northeast, there was another saying: "Ma eight, Yan seven, Minister six," meaning most ministerial residences here had no more than six steps, but the Yan residence had seven, and the Ma residence even boasted eight steps, the same specification as princely dukes!

Recently, not only had Ma Zhongxian, the Ma family's eldest son, frequently returned to the inner city mansion from the Capital Eastern Army, but even the legitimate eldest grandson, who often stayed out all night and smelled of perfume, had obediently stayed home and avoided guests.

Perhaps because they had heard too many rumors that Old Master Ma was finally failing, only for him to always recover, few people took the unusual behavior of Ma Zhongxian and his son seriously.

But both the son, Ma Zhongxian, and the grandson, Ma Wenhou, knew that this time, the Old Master might truly not make it.

Because the Old Master, who had been bedridden for many years, was no longer in a daze. Instead, he suddenly had a surge of vitality; he could sit up and drink a few sips of thin porridge, and his eyes had become much clearer.

This was known as a final burst of energy before death.

In the twilight years, some elders, as their end approached, knowing their time was limited, no longer minded if the last flicker of candlelight was blown out by the wind.

After hearing from his son Ma Zhongxian that Beiliang had defeated Beiliang, Old Master Ma merely opened his cloudy eyes and tremblingly asked, "How many... died?"

Ma Zhongxian truthfully reported the general, albeit still very vague, battle situation, which was already closer to the truth than what even the Ministry of War officials knew.

The Old Master sat up for the first time in an unprecedented manner when he heard that the young vassal king had entered the capital without authorization. However, the old man was probably too exhausted and soon lay back down. It wasn't until he heard that 800 Beiliang light cavalry had terrified the Capital Western Army that the old man specifically requested his acknowledged good-for-nothing legitimate eldest grandson to return to the mansion. Ma Wenhou was an eccentric in Tai'an City. While he was called a prodigal, he never truly got along with the likes of Wang Yuanran and Yan Tongshu from a young age. Yet, to say he had great ambitions was also not true, as he never saw eye to eye with talents like Yin Changgeng and Han Xingyan. Thus, Ma Wenhou and Zhang Bianguan, the youngest son of the old Grand Secretary Zhang Julu—a good-for-nothing who lived in a shabby alley and liked to wander aimlessly around the city—were dubbed "the Capital's oddities." However, compared to the whimsical Zhang Bianguan, Ma Wenhou actually had good interpersonal skills. When he came of age, he traveled for over two years, visiting East Sea Wudi City, the great mountains of Southern Xinjiang, Western Shu, Nanzhao, Qing Province, Xiangfan, and north of Jizhou.

Ma Wenhou was personally brought back to the Ma residence that night by his father, Ma Zhongxian. And the aging Great General Conquering the North, Ma Lulang, with the support of his grandson Ma Wenhou, sat up for the second time. After this, whether it was for his three meals or listening to Ma Wenhou read, the old man spent more time sitting than lying down.

Subsequently, whether it was hearing about the death of Beiliang General Yang Yuanzan at Hulukou Pass in Youzhou, or that Gu Jiantang's Liaodong iron cavalry finally couldn't restrain themselves and showed signs of stirring, the old man, who had navigated officialdom for over sixty years, remained outwardly calm.

However, when the old man personally handed over the tiger tally, he inexplicably sighed, "The path to death," unsure if he was referring to the young vassal king or someone else.

At the morning court today, the old man seemed to want to go, but realizing his frail body couldn't handle the jostling, he didn't trouble his son and grandson.

Under Ma Zhongxian's subtle instruction, several hidden Ma family retainers were dispatched like a net, with only one task: to keep a close watch on that young man surnamed Xu from a distance.

Soon, one message after another returned to the Ma residence: the young vassal king had left the Xiamanwei Inn, but instead of attending court, he went lightly to the old Ministry of War office, stopping at the threshold without entering. He then entered the Ministry of Rites office, where Minister Sima Puhua had already slipped away. Finally, he arrived at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and met the Empress Dowager Zhao Zhi and the owner of Jiujiu Pavilion.

The old man commented on each piece of news he received.

The old man was full of spirit, becoming extremely talkative and meticulous in his thoughts, as if he wanted to finish all the words he had accumulated over the past decade in one breath.

"The old Ministry of War office, ah, it's actually a propitious place, wasted, what a pity."

"Wenhou, my Ma family has been a Liyang vassal force for a very long time. It's just that back then, we were quick to adapt. Actually, when your great-grandfather first threw me into the Ministry of War, I was only eighteen. Many people thought your great-grandfather had lost his mind, putting the family's only direct descendant in the capital. Did he really not want the family's foundation anymore? Then, after I endured for over twenty years and finally became the Vice Minister of War, everyone shut up. Some had died and couldn't speak. Some had lost power and didn't have the face to complain to me. My whole life, I've revolved around the Ministry of War and military camps. But those of 'Blue-Eyed Boy' and Tantantan Weng's generation all know that I never once fought on a battlefield, nor did I ever kill anyone. Isn't that amusing? Such a person ended up as the Great General Conquering the North?"

"When I became a powerful figure in the Ministry of War, I saw many young generals—ambitious ones, capable ones, ruthless killers, all kinds. There was a Jinzhou barbarian named Xu who struggled particularly hard to climb the ranks in officialdom. He always suffered defeats; several times, his troops were wiped out, and he almost became a lone general. No one had high hopes for him, and neither did I. He had no foundation, relying only on sheer desperation. Wenhou, you must understand, Liyang back then was not as peaceful as it is now; there were always endless wars. Nowadays, killing a hundred Beiliang barbarians can make you a commander, but back then, you might kill a thousand Eastern Yue or Northern Han armored soldiers and still not get a commander's rank. Or, even if you finally got it, it might become someone else's military achievement the next day. So, once, when that young man, looking utterly dejected, ran to the yamen again, begging us Ministry of War officials for troops and provisions, no one was willing to bother with him. We always felt it wouldn't be worth the investment. The Ministry of War only had about a dozen tiger tallies to spare; otherwise, we'd have to use illicit private armies. To whom should we give them? Why give them to a young man whose future was so uncertain?"

"If I'm not mistaken, it was raining that day. That young man from Jinzhou, who at the time only held the rank of captain, stood in the rainy courtyard, a box of silver at his feet, his back straight. He didn't look like someone who would beg. That little bit of silver? Was it enough for the Ministry of War to allocate him seven or eight hundred men? Although everyone knew he wasn't greedy for money and would always, after winning a battle, regardless of his own casualties, first deliver the spoils to the Ministry of War officials, what he absolutely shouldn't have done was, in his previous defeated battle, get a junior relative of a Ministry of War official killed, someone who had been sent to his army to gain military merit. So, no one was willing to deal with him. People had seen fearless fighters, but never one as reckless as him, always charging to the front in every battle. Who would dare fully support such a person? Someone who only knew how to fight but not how to be an official? He might die any day. How could that work?"

"However, I was in a good mood that day, because that Ministry of War official, relying on his seniority, always liked to contradict me. My idea was simple: just to annoy that Ministry of War official. So I walked up to that young man, with whom I had never directly interacted before, and promised him a troop."

Upon hearing this, Ma Wenhou curiously asked, "Did he quickly win a great, profitable victory?"

The old man smiled and shook his head. "He did win, and he won three battles in a row. But his troops were wiped out by that young man again. Of course, my capital was definitely recouped. At that time, human lives were the cheapest commodity, but once able-bodied young men donned armor and picked up weapons, they could still be counted for money. The Ma family's current foundation was accumulated little by little back then. Many warlords who originally held sway over certain regions also gradually depleted their family fortunes during that time."

Ma Wenhou was speechless.

Most young people of his generation generally disliked listening to elders ramble about the Spring and Autumn conflicts; they'd heard it so much as children that their ears were calloused. Ma Wenhou was no exception.

The old man sighed, "That Jinzhou captain, who at the time had to depend on your grandfather's mood and expression, you must have already guessed, was Xu Xiao. Later, the Human Butcher of Liyang, and finally, the King of Beiliang."

Ma Wenhou nodded gently.

This old story, the old man had never mentioned to anyone.

"The old saying 'one who does much injustice will surely perish' is true, but not entirely. Anyway, for Xu Xiao to die of old age in his bed, riddled with injuries and illnesses, was probably heaven's reward for his righteousness. But 'doing much unkindness brings disaster to descendants'—I, your grandfather, truly believe that. The Xu family is another good example. Xu Xiao killed so many people, yet look at his children: is any of them blessed? His eldest daughter died young, his second daughter is paralyzed in a wheelchair, and his youngest son is a fool. As for his eldest son... I don't think this young man has had an easy life these past years. His superficial glory is just that. People, they are strange. The poor think the rich must live comfortably, and commoners think powerful figures can do as they please. Half right, half wrong. To give a simple example: an ordinary person is kicked for no reason on the street, maybe they curse a bit, feel resentful for a few days, and then get over it. But what about you, Ma Wenhou? If you were slapped by Yin Changgeng's son or Gu Jiantang's son, would you forget that sting tomorrow or next year? No, you wouldn't. That kind of unhappiness is actually comparable to a poor person losing a few dozen taels of silver and feeling like dying."

Ma Wenhou mumbled, "Yin Changgeng's son or old Gu's son dare slap me? I wouldn't break three of their legs?"

Ma Zhongxian glared at him, "How old are you, don't you know what's important?! Thirty to stand on your own, thirty to stand on your own, what are you standing on, you brat!"

The old man waved his hand, signaling Ma Zhongxian not to get angry. "Zhongxian, don't mind your son's careless talk; he's actually quite clever in a sneaky way. And don't think disciplining the descendants of Yin and Gu is wrong. Is it wrong? No, as long as the method is proper, it's actually a good thing. In this understanding, you, Ma Zhongxian, are miles behind your son."

Ma Zhongxian hummed in acknowledgment. Although this General Antong was known for his unruly nature in capital officialdom, he was utterly filial, listening to Ma Lulang's every word and never thinking he was too powerful or that Ma Lulang was senile.

The old man, now skin and bones, smiled happily, his trembling hand gently squeezing his son's shoulder. "You are stronger than me. You've truly fought battles, earned military merits, and your nature is simple. That's a great advantage, best suited for preserving the family. Especially under the emperor's nose, smart people cause trouble, and self-proclaimed smart people dig their own graves. You have taken on the burden of the Ma family."

The old man turned to gaze at Ma Wenhou, who had been mediocre for over a decade. "Conquering the land was the responsibility of generations like your grandfather and great-grandfather. Guarding the family fortune is your father's burden. So, the revival of the family or taking it to a higher level, that should be your turn."

Ma Wenhou's lips were tightly sealed; he didn't speak.

Seeing his son's sickly demeanor, Ma Zhongxian immediately felt an unprovoked surge of anger. Just as he was about to erupt, the old man glared at him, making him instantly silent.

The old man gently said, "Wenhou, I, your grandfather, only had your father as a son, but I have four grandsons and two granddaughters. Over the years, your three younger brothers have been busy vying for favor and power. Only you carefully protected your two younger sisters. That's very good. Those three good-for-nothings have no real ability, but they're very good at vying for attention and being jealous, more like women than men. Handing the family fortune to them would only last one generation at most; even mountains of gold and silver would be squandered."

The old man emphasized, repeating, "You are very good!"

Ma Zhongxian stood stunned.

The old man pursed his lips, a cold smile forming. "There are two types of people you cannot deal with in this world. One is the almost saintly, perfect person, like the 'Blue-Eyed Boy' (Zhang Julu). No matter what you do, it's hard to establish a personal relationship or practical benefit with them. The other kind are people with no bottom line. It's not fearsome when a person's bottom line is low, because you know what kind of person they are, and with caution, you can avoid disaster and seek profit. But people with no bottom line, you never know when they'll bring you a 'surprise.' Such people are like the former Minister of Personnel Zhao Youling, and the current Left Vice Minister of Rites Jin Lanting. Befriending them deeply means you'll eventually be sold out completely, and while you're wronged, they'll be smug. If the Ma family were a small household needing to cling to higher branches, it would naturally be different; being noticed by them would be good enough. But while the Ma family isn't the top powerful clan in Tai'an City, it's barely in the top ten. So, there's no need to bother with these people. Don't get close to either type."

At this point, the old man gave his son and grandson separate, heartfelt advice.

"Zhongxian, don't spend all your time thinking about achieving great military feats, especially don't think about joining the fray in Guangling Dao. Remember, for a monarch, often when he wants someone to die, it's not necessarily his personal will. Did the late emperor truly not wish to be recorded in history alongside Zhang Julu and Yan Zhenchun, ending well? If the emperor wants you to die, as a subject, to whom do you appeal? So, absolutely do not have great achievements for the country, but you must have small favors for the monarch. Remember this!"

"Wenhou, I'll give you a saying that Tantantan Weng told me years ago: 'When water is deep, its flow is slow; when a person is noble, their words are few.' You, too, should stop repeating those grand pronouncements like 'I do not resent not seeing the ancients, only resent the ancients not seeing me,' or 'Live to be a marquis and prime minister, die to be enshrined in the ancestral temple.' They sound stirring, but they are miles behind Tantantan Weng's words in profound wisdom. Some words are best kept in your belly; they shouldn't be spoken aloud. A man's aspirations and ambitions are not as readily apparent as a woman's pregnancy after just a few months."

Ma Wenhou chuckled, "I don't like to talk about those things anymore either. I used to think if I ever made a name for myself someday, later historians could just use them directly in their writings."

The old man laughed, scolding, "You rascal!"

Ma Zhongxian looked a bit innocent and dejectedly said, "Father, why did you scold me too?"

The old man painstakingly forced a smile, reached out again, and patted Ma Zhongxian's head. "You're also a rascal. There, all three of you have been scolded."

Ma Zhongxian smiled, but tears welled up in the rough man's eyes.

Ma Wenhou constantly supported his grandfather's arm with one hand and his back with the other.

At this moment, an elderly Ma family retainer, nearly seventy, appeared at the door, his voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "Xu Fengnian has killed over thirty immortals at the gate of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. Twelve hundred heavy cavalry have not yet been deployed to the battlefield."

General Ma Lulang's eyes seemed to glaze over.

Then the old man suddenly said sharply, "Zhongxian, quickly enter the palace and meet His Majesty! Even if you have to kneel until your knees break, you must stop His Majesty from deploying that heavy cavalry!"

Ma Zhongxian instinctively stood up abruptly, but then hesitated, realizing his father was dying.

The old man angrily rebuked, "Fool! I am using the entire Ma family's reputation as a ladder for His Majesty to descend from his high position! Anyone can be appointed commander of the heavy cavalry next, anyone but you, Ma Zhongxian! Only this way will Wenhou have a chance to rise to the central government as quickly as possible!"

Ma Zhongxian vigorously wiped his eyes, then turned and strode away.

Ma Lulang gasped violently, and Ma Wenhou gently patted the old man's back.

The old man gave a bitter smile. "Let me lie down. I can't hold on anymore, and there's no need to."

Ma Wenhou carefully helped the old man lie down.

The old man held his legitimate eldest grandson's hand and softly chuckled, "Seventy years of age is rare since ancient times. Your grandfather is well past eighty. What do you have to be sad about?"

Ma Wenhou forced a smile, choking back tears. "It's not that I dislike my father being slow-witted and not hitting the mark even when scolding. Grandfather has great wisdom; even if you don't scold, I can still understand."

The old man lay quietly, his breathing shallow, a dismal sight of more exhalation than inhalation.

The old man said calmly, "Wenhou, at seventy, one can follow their heart's desires without overstepping boundaries. This saying is very interesting. Your grandfather truly believed it after seventy. If you don't believe it, then you must live to that age. Your heart is not yet calm enough. You need to read more. In the quiet of night, you can also sit more on those eight steps."

Ma Wenhou gripped the old man's hand and nodded vigorously.

Ma Lulang slowly closed his eyes. "Born earlier than you, Xu Xiao, died later than you. I finally won one against you."

When the old man finished his last words, he finally passed away.

"Now, I must die."