Green Mountain
Chapter 176 - 131, Hold the Mandate of Heaven in One’s Mouth

Chapter 176: 131, Hold the Mandate of Heaven in One’s Mouth

Under the simple straw-thatched porridge shed, government officers piled up a blue brick stove, and eight boiling pots wafted a faint scent of rice.

Wang Daosheng patiently explained to the officers, "In a year of great disaster, even if it doesn’t reach the point of exchanging children for food, there will still be brothels buying young girls. Rest assured, I won’t make things difficult for you. Just report my name to Lord Zhang, as he and I are old acquaintances."

Just as Chen Ji thought that the government officer would argue back, he saw the officer already conceding defeat, his expression awkward, "So it’s Lord Wang, I failed to recognize a great man."

Chen Ji quietly asked Bai Li beside him, "Commandery Princess, is Mr. Wang very famous?"

Bai Li glanced at her in surprise, leaned in and whispered, "You haven’t heard of Mr. Wang? He became famous throughout the land when he was ranked as the second top scholar many years ago."

Chen Ji nodded, genuinely unaware of his new teacher’s renowned status, which merely by name could command such courtesy from the government office.

At that moment, the officer looked troubled as he spoke to Wang Daosheng, "Lord Wang, we can register and make records, but as you can see, there are only about a dozen officers here at the porridge shed, and it will be too busy when distributing porridge later... Could we perhaps wait until we bring in more hands?"

Wang Daosheng glanced at the porridge shed and then back at the number of officers, "You go register; we’ll handle the porridge shed."

The officer was stunned, "My lord, ladling out thousands of portions of porridge is physically taxing, how can we let you take on such labor?"

Wang Daosheng did not answer him but instead looked towards Chen Ji and the others, "Do any of you have a problem?"

Chen Ji replied, "Master, rest assured, I don’t have a problem."

Bai Li also smiled, rolling up her sleeves, "Master, I have no problem either!"

Seeing this, Zhang Xia immediately tied Zaozao’s reins by the shed and rolled up his sleeves to join, "Master, we won’t have a problem."

At this point, the Princely Heir spoke, "There aren’t enough people."

From atop the ox cart outside the porridge shed, Chen Wenzong silently watched this scene for a long time without a word.

As soon as the Princely Heir’s gaze swept over, he immediately tried to stand up, but Chen Wenxiao pulled him back by the arm, "Brother, what are you doing? We came here to study, not to do manual labor. I have seen those officers distributing porridge; after ladling thousands of portions, their arms swell up. It’s usually the least favored officers from the government office who get assigned such bitterly cold toil."

Chen Wenzong’s expression was solemn, "No need for more words. We have studied the classics for over a decade; how can we fail to distinguish right from wrong? I stayed inside the cart earlier because Chen Ji made a mistake himself, and the others shouldn’t have to suffer for him. But now, we’re here to serve the people; how can we shrink back? Let go!"

He freed himself from Chen Wenxiao’s grip, jumped down from the ox cart, and rolled up his sleeves, "Master, let me help too."

Chen Wenxiao sat alone on the cart, hesitated for a long time, and finally, with his head down, he jumped down and stood beside Chen Wenzong.

Wang Daosheng lifted the lid of one of the pots, only to see steam rising like clouds. After the steam dissipated slightly, all furrowed their brows—the porridge was thin, the rice grains at the bottom of the pot clearly visible.

Chen Wenzong’s expression turned grim as he looked at the officer, "Why is the porridge so watery? Court’s iron law for distributing porridge states the chopsticks must not fall, how dare you cook such watery porridge?"

The officer, scared pale, responded, "It’s not that we wanted to cook it so thin, it’s Lord Zhang who ordered it."

"Lord Zhang?"

"Yes," the officer explained, "Lord Zhang said there isn’t enough grain. To keep the people of the west and south of the city alive through the winter, one absolutely cannot cook thick porridge. If we were to distribute porridge according to the court’s standards, we’d run out of supplies in just fifteen days."

"Are there no grains left in Luocheng City’s granary?" Chen Wenzong was puzzled. "I remember last month’s autumn grains had just been delivered to Luocheng."

The officer hurriedly replied, "Lord Zhang said, the grain in the official storages must not be touched further. If military orders come to requisition grain and there isn’t enough, heads will roll."

"Isn’t there any other way? Where is Lord Zhang?"

"Lord Zhang said he is figuring out a solution..."

Zhang Xia, curious, asked, "What about Lord Chen? I remember he’s very principled; surely, he won’t just ignore this?"

The officer hesitated.

Zhang Xia, getting testy, pressed, "Well, speak up!"

The officer stuttered, "Lord Zhang has gathered a bunch of litigants and old bachelors to sue in the government office, keeping Lord Chen tied up there..."

Zhang Xia was taken aback, "Ah, this!"

Wang Daosheng raised his hand to stop the conversation, "Officer, go register. We will handle the distribution here."

With that, he called out to the disaster victims, "Step forward to receive porridge, priorities for the old, weak, women, and children."

His voice drifted outward—though not very loud, it impressively reached hundreds of meters.

Chen Ji was startled; he saw the disaster victims slowly standing up, indeed letting the old, weak, women, and children go to the front of the line!

He had witnessed porridge distribution at the West City Gate before; he knew what the disaster victims were like, all skin and bones from hunger—who would still care about respecting the elderly and loving the young?

"But Mr. Wang spoke just a sentence, and it took effect!"

"Could Mr. Wang also be an Executive Officer?"

Chen Ji silently looked at the Princely Heir and Bai Li, "Mr. Wang just now..."

Bai Li whispered, "My father says the master follows the path of the sages and can enlighten all beings with the truth he speaks. However, he also mentioned that the master still has some unresolved matters, so he cannot be considered a true sage yet."

Chen Ji glanced at Mr. Wang and silently picked up a large wooden ladle to distribute rice porridge to the lined-up disaster victims.

The ladle was too heavy for a girl, and after swinging it just a few times, Bai Li’s arm started to ache so much that she could barely lift it, yet she gritted her teeth and persevered, "If only Brother Mao’er were here, his strength never runs out."

Suddenly, Chen Ji discovered that as he ladled out the rice porridge to the disaster victims... the twenty-six stove flames within him started changing color, although very slightly and slowly, each change was palpable.

It was as if calibrating the heat in an inverted flame kiln; at six hundred degrees it appears cherry red, at nine hundred degrees it turns orange, and above thirteen hundred degrees, it turns white.

When the twenty-six stove flames first ignited, they were cherry red, but now, that red was gradually fading, replaced by a more robust vitality.

Chen Ji remembered that once in the Qingshan Dream Realm, all the stove flames in his body had flared up, turning white at that time.

Strange, why did the stove flames change? Was it because he was helping the disaster victims? But he had helped disaster victims at the West City Gate before, too.

Wait.

The only difference between now and then was that he was wearing a mask then.

Before Chen Ji could figure it out, the creaking of wooden wheels resounded from the city gate.

He saw dozens of carts laden with bags of grain moving out of the city, followed by a palanquin. The grain was piled on each cart like small hills, making the palanquin behind them appear rather inconspicuous.

The next moment, the bearers set the palanquin down, and Zhang Zhuo, dressed in a red official robe and full of pride, stepped out.

He looked toward the people under the porridge shed, surprised, "Oh? What are you doing here?"

Zhang Xia rushed up like a gust of wind, grabbing his arm, "Dad, where did you find so much grain?"

Zhang Zhuo chuckled and stroked his beard, "Your father conjured it up with Immortal Technique! Impressive, right?"

Zhang Xia gave a thumbs-up, "Impressive!"

Wang Daosheng walked over to the side of a cart, pinched a sack, and concluded, "Fresher than the court’s grain, this is the merchants’ newly hoarded autumn harvest. They actually agreed to donate it to you... no, you bought it."

Zhang Zhuo laughed, "You’ve been a soldier for years, yet you can still tell how fresh the grain is just by touching it through a sack? I thought you had turned into a bookworm by now!"

However, Wang Daosheng did not laugh. He frowned and looked at Zhang Zhuo, "You did the same outrageous things when you were in office in Yangzhou. After you left, complaints about your selling offices for personal gain poured into the Imperial Capital like snowflakes. Had Official Xu not suppressed the issue, you might already be in prison. But you always act this way, and sooner or later it will lead to disaster. Then, if any Imperial Censors find evidence, a single report in front of the emperor would be the end of you."

Zhang Zhuo arrogantly retorted, "As long as Xu is still the Cabinet Minister, no Imperial Censor dares to accuse me."

Wang Daosheng sighed, "What if Xu is no longer the Cabinet Minister?"

Zhang Zhuo confidently replied, "By then, I’ll be the Cabinet Minister!"

Wang Daosheng shook his head gently and said again, "Even as a high official, it’s hard to cover the sky with one hand. Dong Shi wrote to me, saying he has been promoted to Imperial Censor and is to inspect your actions in Yangzhou. He has been at odds with the Xu Family for a long time. If he..."

Zhang Zhuo impatiently waved his robe, seeing no government officers or disaster victims around, he suddenly shouted angrily, "You’re only a few years older than me, don’t always preach to me. I use corrupt officials’ money for the people’s welfare, what’s wrong with that? If I don’t do this, what will these disaster victims eat or drink? Wait for the court’s silver? How long would that take? The disaster victims would have starved to death by then!"

Hearing this, Chen Ji suddenly remembered the rumors about Zhang Zhuo, and Manager Yuan’s account books, finally realizing where this batch of grain had come from.

Zhang Zhuo continued speaking to Wang Daosheng, "If you dislike what I do, feel free to report me to Dong Shi. I have one question for you, do you want these disaster victims to survive this winter?"

Zhang Zhuo and Wang Daosheng stood face to face, one dressed in a bright red official robe with a vividly embroidered white pheasant, the other in a blue scholar’s gown, faded from washing.

It seemed like individuals who should not have crossed paths in this life had met by chance, standing in opposition.

The crowd held their breath, as if facing two overwhelming mountains, daring not to even breathe heavily.

At last, Wang Daosheng softly said, "I know Dong Shi well, after my travels I will send him a letter, asking him not to investigate the matters of Yangzhou."

Zhang Zhuo laughed heartily and clapped Wang Daosheng on the shoulder, "I knew it! After all these years, you’re still different from those pedantic scholars. Dong Shi respects your scholarship and holds you in discipleship esteem. If you ask him to stop, he surely will. When you return from your travels, I’ll seek you out for a drink."

Wang Daosheng casually brushed Zhang Zhuo’s hand away, "One day, you will fall hard because of this."

Zhang Zhuo’s expression changed, "You shouldn’t speak carelessly, spit that out right now."

Wang Daosheng ignored him and turned to walk to the porridge shed, continuing to serve porridge to the disaster victims, "Don’t worry, I’m not that capable."