# 482. What Loyalty?
"Si- Silver Gong Xu?"
Wang Simu’s eyes widened, suspecting that she had misheard.
It really was the voice of Cijiu's elder brother, Xu Qi'an that she had just heard.
Biaobiao glanced sideways at the running dog and asked in surprise, "Sister-in-law?"
*Wang Simu is Erlang’s little lover...* Xu Qi’an smiled and said, "Miss Simu and Erlang are deeply in love, so it’s only a matter of time before they become a couple."
Wang Simu tsked lightly, both shy and angry yet feeling sweet. From Silver Gong Xu’s words, it could be seen that the Xu family was quite satisfied with her.
Her father had never explicitly forbidden her relationship with Xu Erlang, and even tacitly approved. Otherwise, when she returned from the Xu residence, her father would not have specifically asked about the Xu family.
*Ah, doesn’t this make us even closer as family?* Biaobiao immediately became happy, her peach blossom eyes curving into crescent moons.
Wang Simu hesitated slightly and said in a low voice, "Father might resign from office!"
*Resign?* Xu Qi’an frowned. His first thought was that after Duke Wei’s death, Emperor Yuanjing was purging the court to balance the power of the cliques, so he wanted to force Prime Minister Wang out.
But in the past few days, Yuanjing had been focused on smearing Duke Wei's name and defining the outcome of this campaign, and should have had no time to deal with Prime Minister Wang.
Wasn’t it a bit early to resign now?
Or did Prime Minister Wang know his career was coming to an end and simply wanted to leave office early for a good ending?
"Silver Gong Xu, what business do you have with my father?" Wang Simu looked at him with soft, charming eyes.
"Calling me Silver Gong is too formal. Just call me elder brother," Xu Qi’an changed the subject.
He had come to seek Prime Minister Wang’s help.
Wang Simu was helpless against such an unserious man and could only say, "I’ll take you there."
She made a gesture of invitation.
Xu Qi’an and Lin’an followed her through corridors and courtyards towards the depths of the Wang residence.
Wang Simu wore a light pink robe, reaching her knees, with a pleated long skirt below. As she walked, the skirt and robe swayed gracefully.
Xu Qi’an looked her up and down. This sister-in-law had a tall figure, great proportions between hips, waist, and shoulders, and was very pretty. As the prime minister’s daughter, she was elegant and intelligent. She and Xu Erlang truly were a match made in heaven.
The only flaw was that she was clever, strong-willed, and noble. Women like this tended to be possessive.
It would be hard for Erlang to take a concubine in the future.
But that wasn't so bad really. A good man should be devoted to one woman for life.
Xu Qi’an quite agreed with this and felt that he was such a good man himself.
Just as they were about to reach the prime minister’s study, Xu Qi’an suddenly said, "I need to use the privy."
Entering the privy, he took out a sheet of paper containing the Qi-watching technique and burned it. Two rays of clear light shot out from his eyes, then slowly faded.
When he returned, Lin’an and Wang Simu were nowhere to be seen. Only a servant waited in place.
Seeing Xu Qi’an return, the servant came forward respectfully and said,
"Miss asked me to wait here. She and Her Highness Lin’an have gone to the boudoir to play. Please go in by yourself, she has already informed the master."
*They seem to get along well, not bad, not bad. With Wang Simu as a sister-in-law to scheme with her, Biaobiao would not be bullied...* Xu Qi’an nodded, walked to the study, and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Inside came the mellow, gentle voice of Wang Zhenwen.
Xu Qi’an gently pushed open the door. The well-lit study was spacious and elegant. Behind the large huanghuali wood desk, Prime Minister Wang sat alone, his eyes murky and tired, his expression grave and serious... Every detail showed this old man was in terrible shape.
"I heard from Miss Simu that you’re planning to resign, Prime Minister Sir?" Xu Qi’an smiled.
"I can’t hide anything from her!"
Prime Minister Wang smiled helplessly. "At tomorrow’s court meeting, I will request to retire. According to the rules, His Majesty will symbolically try to keep me a few times, then permit me to retire to my ancestral home."
"Is it your own wish to resign?"
Xu Qi’an looked at him intently.
Prime Minister Wang nodded, "Yes."
The Qi-watching technique confirmed he was telling the truth and had not lied. The Prime Minister truly was choosing to retire at the peak.
Still, Xu Qi’an asked, "Why so?"
After seeing his uncle, he went and requested sheets of qi-watching technique from Great Scholar Zhang Shen. He didn't ask for anything else; techniques of fourth rank or below were completely useless against a rank two Daoist.
A Daoist at fourth rank, the Golden Core, was immune to all techniques, let alone a second rank.
As for Dean Zhao Shou, that Confucian spellbook was his only copy and had long been used up by Xu Qi’an, so nothing more could be offered.
If he insisted, he could record Confucian techniques, but the _laws follow commandments_k of a third rank Great Scholar were far too dangerous for Xu Qi’an to use. They might not even kill second rank Zhende, but would definitely be fatal for him.
As a perennial cheat, after two brushes with death, Xu Qi’an had developed a bit of a trauma regarding Confucian boasting.
"Since I have no power to change things, it is better to resign," Prime Minister Wang said calmly.
"It can’t be just because of Duke Wei, can it?" Xu Qi’an frowned.
Prime Minister Wang hesitated, then shook his head.
"There are other secrets involved. You don’t need to know. It would do you no good. I am completely disheartened and do not wish to stay in court any longer. What a pity that the empire handed down by our ancestors is to be destroyed by that incomp..."
Prime Minister Wang cut himself off decisively.
Of course, his resignation was not just because of Wei Yuan. The current emperor was unworthy of the throne, and the Jianzheng merely watched coldly. Though he held the highest office among ministers, he was just a scholar, what could he really do?
He could only lament helplessly.
Since that was the case, there was no need to remain in court.
As for these secrets, Xu Qi’an -- a mere fourth-rank martial artist -- did not need to know. Knowing too much would only harm him.
Prime Minister Wang, dejected, picked up his tea and took a sip to warm his chilled heart.
"Did you know that the grain cut-off was orchestrated by Yuanjing?" Xu Qi’an probed.
"Cough, cough..."
Prime Minister Wang choked in shock, coughing violently. That tea had not warmed his heart but scalded his mouth.
"You know as well?"
The prime minister looked at him in shock.
"I came to ask for your help, Sir Prime Minister!"
Xu Qi’an, with eyes filled with Qi-watching technique, gazed at him intently.
…
It was not until dusk that Xu Qi’an and Lin’an finally left the Wang residence.
After seeing them off, Wang Simu walked straight to the study. Bright candlelight shone through the paper-paned lattice door.
Knock knock!
She raised her hand, her slender jade fingers tapping twice.
"Come in!"
Wang Zhenwen’s voice sounded.
Wang Simu pushed open the door and smelled a burning paper scent. Turning her head, she saw her father, Wang Zhenwen, sitting by a round table, a stack of books, several paintings, and a few calligraphy scrolls on his lap, tossing them one by one into the brazier at his feet.
"Father, what are you burning?"
Wang Simu walked gracefully closer.
"Just some things I wrote in my ignorant youth."
Wang Zhenwen bowed his head, gazing at the fire as it devoured the paper. It seemed as if firelight was leaping in his eyes as well.
"Let me help you, Father."
Wang Simu sat down beside him, picked up a calligraphy scroll and unrolled it, then exclaimed in shock:
"This, this is a poem you wrote, Father. His Majesty once praised your talent as stunning."
Wang Zhenwen was an excellent poet, often attending poetry gatherings in his youth. Over half a lifetime, he had written some quite accomplished poems.
This was a seven-character regulated verse expressing loyalty to the sovereign, full of stirring passion.
After Yuanjing praised it, Wang Zhenwen had been proud, framed it, and hung it on the wall for nearly thirty years.
"Burn it."
Wang Zhenwen snatched the poem from his daughter and threw it into the brazier. The flames leapt up at once, consuming the calligraphy that was even older than Wang Simu herself.
Wang Simu panicked, turned to look at her father, and was stunned.
Wang Zhenwen’s old face was streaming with tears.
"Dad?"
Wang Simu’s voice trembled.
She had never seen her father cry in her life. For a moment, it felt as if the sky had collapsed.
Wang Zhenwen stared at the fire in the brazier and said in a low voice, "Dad's spent half a lifetime contending with Wei Yuan, winning some and losing some. As for his character, there’s nothing I can criticise. In truth, I respect him a great deal!
"What I disagree with is his way of governing the world, too domineering, too ruthless. Officialdom is not for one man, but for many. Only by drawing in some people can you suppress others. How do you win people over? If you want others to listen to you, you must keep them fed.
"Corrupt officials are not the issue, as long as they get things done. It’s the idle, empty-talking upright officials that harm the country and the people. Officials who are both capable and incorruptible are all too rare, you cannot rely on such rare gems to run the nation.
"Wei Yuan was one of those rare gems. He could tolerate small corruption, but not great corruption. He could bear minor evils, but not great evils. Some years ago, he wanted to rectify the under-officials, but I stopped him. That was nonsense. If you want to clean up those below, you must first clean up those above.
"But you can’t clean up those above. Do you know why, Simu?"
Wang Simu pursed her lips and ventured, "His Majesty?"
Wang Zhenwen neither nodded nor shook his head, only sighed, "Now Wei Yuan is dead in battle. He devoted most of his life to the Great Feng, and yet His Majesty will not even grant him a good posthumous name, how heartless.
"But what pains me today is not his lack of sentiment. Imperial houses are the most ruthless of all. Anyone sitting on that throne is bound to be cold-hearted. Men like Wei Yuan are never absent from the histories; there have been many before, and there will be more after.
"What pains me is that I can do nothing. Over eighty thousand soldiers sacrificed themselves for the Great Feng, leaving behind over eighty thousand widows and orphans. If this campaign is judged a defeat, their pensions will be halved…"
Wang Zhenwen stretched out his right hand, staring at the thick calluses formed by years of holding a brush, utterly exhausted:
"I’ve wielded a brush for decades, yet cannot even pick up a sword, and must watch as he ruins our ancestors’ six hundred years of legacy, powerless to stop it. Though I seemed prestigious, without military command, all my authority was given by the emperor and could be taken away at any time. Useless as a scholar, useless as a scholar indeed.
"I’ve read the classics all my life, and every line says be loyal to the sovereign, loyal to the sovereign. I’d like to ask Sage Cheng: loyal to what fucking sovereign?"
He suddenly rose and kicked the brazier over, sending sparks flying.
"Loyal to what fucking sovereign!"
…
At five, as dawn was just breaking, Emperor Yuanjing wore a bright yellow dragon robe and a crown hung with pearls, his bearing imposing.
He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the soaring Stargazing Tower.
After a long time, he turned and returned to his bedchamber. The old eunuch prepared to follow, but Yuanjing’s dignified and cold voice came:
"No need to follow."
The old eunuch stopped outside.
Inside, Yuanjing walked on the polished floor, head bowed, step by step, as if measuring something.
After a dozen steps, he stopped, slashed his wrist with a fingertip, and blood flowed out.
It crawled on the floor, forming a twisted, bizarre formation.
Once the formation was complete, Yuanjing drew a transparent orb from his bosom, about the size of a fist, with an eyeball inside. Its pupil was deep and coldly fixed on Yuanjing.
This was the Church of the Warlock God’s greatest treasure, sealing one of the Warlock God’s eyes.
It contained a trace of the Warlock God’s power.
Yuanjing let go of the orb. It did not fall but hovered in the air, shedding ribbons of translucent energy.
As soon as the energy fell, it was stained crimson by Yuanjing’s blood-formed array.
Vaguely, Yuanjing heard a pained dragon’s cry from underground. At the centre of the array, a golden light appeared, and then a golden dragon’s head slowly emerged. S~eaʀᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Within the orb, the eyeball’s depth deepened at once, as if it turned into a vortex, exerting a mighty suction.
The golden dragon kept tossing its head, struggling with all its might against the pull, and gave out a series of heart-rending cries that only certain people could hear.
"With the dispersal of fortune to this point, the dragon ley is unstable, but it’s not quite enough, I must shake it a bit more. Once Wei Yuan’s matter is settled, I’ll immediately proclaim it to the realm, to the capital.
"The curses and resentment of over three million people in the capital, their panic over defeat in war, will be enough for the orb to draw out the spirit of the dragon ley. Wei Yuan, what posthumous evil name shall I bestow on you?"
A smirk crept onto Yuanjing’s lips. He abruptly turned and strode out of the bedchamber.
…
At the hour of five, the sky hadn't fully lightened.
After a night on duty, Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao stretched and walked together towards the main gate of the constabulary.
This was just the time for roll call. Bronze Gongs and Silver Gongs kept coming in. Along the way, the looks they gave Song Tingfeng were strange.
Yesterday’s scene of him enduring humiliation beneath someone’s crotch was still vivid in everyone’s memory.
He was at least at the Refining Spirit stage, with quite a bit of talent, but his spine was far too soft. No matter how high his cultivation, someone like that could never be a leader.
Previously, he just seemed a bit too casual and unreliable, but now, he was clearly unfit for any great responsibility.
Sensing the gazes of his colleagues, Song Tingfeng’s eyes darkened, then he quickly put on an indifferent smile and kept up his carefree, roguish manner.
Zhu Guangxiao’s eyes hid a hint of sorrow.
He too should have suffered the same humiliation, but Song Tingfeng had deliberately played the fool and thrown away his own dignity, saving Zhu Guangxiao from Zhu Chengzhu’s bullying.
Zhu Guangxiao knew his own temperament, he would rather die than suffer such humiliation.
He was due to be married at the end of the year, starting a family, with a bright future ahead. Song Tingfeng did not want his good brother’s life ruined, so he had torn up his own dignity and thrown it on the ground to be trampled.
Seeing Song Tingfeng acting so carelessly, Zhu Guangxiao thought of Xu Qi’an, who had disappeared without a trace after the news of Duke Wei’s death reached the capital.
Xu Manor was deserted.
He would either have to live incognito in future, or drift about the Jianghu.
"If Ningyan were here, he would never let you suffer humiliation," Zhu Guangxiao said through clenched teeth.
"And then what, die together with me?"
Song Tingfeng rolled his eyes, snapping, "After Duke Wei’s death, the capital had no place for him. It was good that he left. If he hadn’t gone, I’d have chased him away myself. If he didn’t go, we wouldn’t be brothers any more."
Zhu Guangxiao grinned, "True."
Song Tingfeng suddenly spat, cursing, "Didn’t even leave an address. Ah, hope we can meet again in this life."
Just as they reached the gate, they ran into Zhu Chengzhu, sabre at his waist, dressed in the uniform of a Silver Gong.
Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao lowered their heads and hurried their steps.
"Stop!"
Zhu Chengzhu’s sudden shout made them pause. He turned slightly, looking down his nose at them. "It’s roll call. Where do you two think you’re going?"
Damn! Song Tingfeng cursed inwardly but put on a flattering smile, bowing and scraping, "Silver Gong Zhu, we were on night duty and are just going back to rest."
Zhu Chengzhu looked surprised, "You were on duty last night? How come I didn’t know about it?"
Zhu Guangxiao’s eyebrows shot up.
The night duty order had come from Zhu Chengzhu himself, after Li Yuchun was sent to prison and Zhu Chengzhu had so ‘enthusiastically’ taken them in.
Obviously, Zhu Chengzhu was deliberately making things difficult for them.
"Yes, yes, perhaps we remembered wrong," Song Tingfeng nodded repeatedly, bowing, "We’ll go back now, right away."
Zhu Chengzhu had intended to take the chance to lecture them, but seeing how servile Song was, could only shake his head and laugh.
He called after them again, saying lazily, "You’re both on duty again tonight. Tough luck. Since you’re friends with Xu Qi’an, hero of the Great Feng, both highly skilled, I’m sure you’ll manage."
So, no rest at all, he was going to work them to death?
Song Tingfeng clenched his fists several times, then relaxed, his face twitching, but he dared not offend Zhu Chengzhu and only bowed, "Understood, understood."
He turned at once, leading Zhu Guangxiao back inside the constabulary.
Behind them came Zhu Chengzhu’s scornful sneer, "Useless."
Around them, those Nightwatchers who had hoped Song Tingfeng would man up showed disappointment, looking at him as if hating iron for not becoming steel.
Lacking the courage to drag others down with them, they pinned their hopes on someone else making the sacrifice, to satisfy their own indignation and resentment.
At this moment, a clicking sound came from the gate. "Such authority, Silver Gong Zhu."
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