Green Mountain
Chapter 348 - 288, Leave or Stay

Chapter 348: 288, Leave or Stay

"Chen Ji, the world shouldn’t be like this."

This sentence was unexpectedly spoken by Mr. Feng.

In the darkness, Chen Ji turned his head to look at the scholar in green beside him. The strands of frost between the man’s temples were faintly visible. Chen Ji followed Mr. Feng’s gaze to where he pointed—it was nothing but a boundless, endless night, even the starlight dimmed.

Mr. Feng lowered his arm, staring off into the distance and calmly stated, "Do you find it absurd? The court officials ignore the lives of the border army—do they not fear that if the border army collapses, their own lives will be in danger?"

Chen Ji said softly, "This humble servant indeed does not understand."

Mr. Feng walked forward with his hands behind his back, "When I first heard of these absurdities, I also thought I’d misheard. In the Jianing 22nd year, the Jizhou border army awaited provisions that never came. Even the grain merchants in the city were prohibited from selling them food. Two infantries of the Jizhou border army, driven by hunger, stole two chickens from a distant branch of the Qi family. Those two men were feeble—just as they had slaughtered the chickens, started boiling water, and hadn’t yet taken a bite, the servants of the Qi Mansion caught them red-handed... Do you know what became of those two infantries?"

Chen Ji remained silent.

Mr. Feng said, expressionless, "The Qi family had them killed to repay the chickens." The Jizhou border army, upon hearing this, revolted that very night, resulting in a rebellion that the court took half a year to quell. Three generations of the Jizhou General’s family were executed."

Chen Ji froze—killed to repay chickens?

Mr. Feng continued, "Do you know the absurd reason behind this?"

Chen Ji shook his head, "This humble servant does not know."

Mr. Feng leisurely explained, "It was because someone recommended the Jizhou General be transferred to the position of Minister of War, blocking someone else’s career path."

He went on, "The Guyuan Border Army General Qing Wentao guarded the border for fourteen years, only to end up being framed for treason and executed by lingchi. Do you know why?"

Chen Ji, upon hearing Qing Wentao’s name, felt a slight stir in his heart, "This humble servant does not know."

Mr. Feng chuckled lightly, "Simply because General Wentao opened trade routes and stationed troops, attracting many merchants to give up their regular paths and take the Guyuan route instead. This reduced smuggling through Yingkou and Qidong ports by two-tenths, angering many people. So they collaborated to fabricate evidence of General Wentao’s collusion with enemies and sent him to the autumn execution grounds."

Chen Ji asked tentatively, "Who was angered?"

Mr. Feng casually replied, "Yingkou Port belongs to the Chen family, Qidong Port to the Xu family—who do you think was angered? The ironic part is that when General Wentao met his downfall, Official Hu said nothing, but after his death, the Hu family went to great lengths to secure the Northwest trade route."

Wait a moment.

Chen Ji suddenly fell into deep thought. General Wentao’s framing, a sworn sister missing, Third Master Hu resigning, the former Dragon Gate Inn shopkeeper and staff hanging at the memorial arch, the Chen family’s Minister of Revenue being assassinated—these events seemed to be interconnected!

At this moment, Mr. Feng said indifferently, "Chen Ji, every page of history, when turned, reveals nothing but the bloody word ’benefit.’ When you can truly see this word behind every occurrence, you’ll truly understand the nature of things."

Chen Ji bowed and said, "As a humble Hai Dongqing, ignorance suits me well. Whatever is needed, I will do—through fire and water without hesitation."

Mr. Feng, hearing such an ostentatious reply, turned to look at Chen Ji amusedly.

He pointed twice in the air with his finger, "You, you—when did you start mastering the art of flattery? You’ve barely entered the Spy Department and already risen to Hai Dongqing, reaching the Twelve Signs will only be a matter of time. Understanding certain truths earlier can only be beneficial for you."

Chen Ji responded impassively, "What merits must a humble servant achieve to ascend to the Twelve Signs?"

Mr. Feng replied meaningfully, "When the time comes, you will know."

Mr. Feng continued walking toward the city wall, Chen Ji following behind cautiously, asking, "Master, do the families truly not fear the consequences of the Jing Dynasty’s southward advancement? If the border army collapses, where will they perch without the skin?"

Mr. Feng replied with a chuckling tone, "Why should they care? They believe that even if the dynasty changes, they can still enjoy a life of luxury under a new ruler. Apart from the Zhu family, no one cares what surname rules this country. But today, with the destruction of the Heavenly Strategy Army, the Jing Dynasty will be unable to provoke border conflicts for five years. With those five years, we can turn our focus on reclaiming old lands..."

For some reason.

Only at this moment did Chen Ji, looking at Mr. Feng’s impassioned stance, feel that this man seemed alive—a being of flesh and blood rather than a cold political creature.

His blood, too, had warmth.

Chen Ji suddenly asked, "Since history holds only the word ’benefit,’ what does Master seek to gain from all this?"

Mr. Feng gazed into the distance, "Me?..."

He did not answer. It was unclear if he refused or could not reply.

After a moment, Mr. Feng smiled, "Someone like me will never be recorded in history books."

Chen Ji was slightly stunned—he hadn’t expected such a response.

More perplexing was why the answer had been shared with him specifically.

Chen Ji changed the subject, "What does Master require me to do?"

Mr. Feng pondered for a moment, "Since you’ve gained the Crown Prince’s trust, follow him for now. This connection is sure to raise the Chen family’s estimation of you. Within a year, I want the Chen family’s smuggling records for goods traded with the Jing Dynasty—ideally with an account ledger."

Chen Ji spoke softly, "Master, the Crown Prince is being used as bait this time—I fear he has already become mortal enemies with the Ritual Supervision."

Mr. Feng burst into laughter, "What’s there to fear? It’s merely the Crown Prince."

Chen Ji was startled—how could Mr. Feng dismiss the Crown Prince so casually? Where did such boldness stem from?

Mr. Feng said with a laugh, "Do you truly think I hold the power to decide the life and death of a nation’s heir? In the Ning Dynasty, only one man may make that decision."

The Emperor Ning.

But the Crown Prince had committed no major errors in the past; why would Emperor Ning want to kill the heir he personally appointed?

Mr. Feng spoke nonchalantly, "Your Majesty, the emperor, is a man of cultivation, seeking eternal life. For an immortal ruler, why would a Crown Prince be necessary?"

Chen Ji was stunned. He knew that many rulers sought longevity, but even third-rank officials conflicted with the official gateways—how could Emperor Ning pursue immortality?

Yet, in this bizarre world, he could not definitively say Emperor Ning lacked a way to achieve such a goal.

The city wall loomed close now.

Chen Ji looked up and saw on the ruins of the collapsed gate tower a tall figure standing alone, gazing afar.

Mr. Feng waved him away, "What you seek, I have not forgotten. Go—do your work well, and once the dust settles, I will provide the answers you need."

Chen Ji bowed and stepped back, watching Mr. Feng ascend the crumbling bricks and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Hu Junxian.

After Chen Ji had walked away, Mr. Feng asked softly, "Do you still blame the Prince?"

Hu Junxian gazed at the night, the fires of the Heavenly Strategy Army’s encampment gradually dying out, "No—I’ve never blamed him."

Mr. Feng beamed, "When the Prince chose you for Guyuan, he thought you were the best fit for this place. It appears now he was not mistaken."

Hu Junxian replied indifferently, "There is no better or worse fit—it’s merely that I received the decree to abolish my cultivation, making it easier to deceive the Jing Dynasty. After playing the role for so many years, I truly feel some resentment for this Ning Dynasty."

Mr. Feng glanced at Hu Junxian, "What are your plans now? Return to the Imperial Capital—you can still reclaim the official gateway path. With your talents, you might still touch the threshold of the Divine Realm."

Hu Junxian stood atop the ruins, casually asking, "If I leave, who will look after Guyuan?"

Mr. Feng responded, "Wang Daosheng will take over—there’s no one more suited."

Hu Junxian realized, "No wonder his appointment as Minister of War was blocked—it was all to await this moment."

Mr. Feng smiled, "What do you think? Upon your return, you’ll hold a standard fourth-rank idle post in the Longevity Army, granted three hundred mu of fertile land, the Python Robe and Jade Belt, and permission to carry a blade within the palace—this was promised by His Majesty before you left for Guyuan."

Hu Junxian fell silent.

Looking at the land he had yearned to abandon, he abruptly declared, "In this vast land, petty officials inherit their posts from local gentry, major officials from aristocratic families, and the throne from the Zhu family, yet no one wants to inherit the border army or Guyuan... I won’t leave. Let me remain here as a stone. Wang Daosheng possesses great talent—don’t send him to waste years in Guyuan as I did."

Mr. Feng’s demeanor turned solemn, "Are you certain?"

Hu Junxian responded cryptically, "Eight years of chess, and now in the endgame, I find myself reluctant to leave. Return and tell His Majesty that if he truly wishes to compensate me, let him fulfill the promise he made—do so to honor Prince Jing’s last request."

As his voice faded, a beam of sunlight pierced through the night sky—the endless darkness finally gave way.

Mr. Feng slowly pulled back his sleeves, bowing deeply to Hu Junxian, "The righteous spirit of a national hero is like Qingshan. General, you are indeed the backbone of our dynasty. Guyuan is entrusted to you."

With that, he turned his back to the rising sun and descended from the wall.

On the ruins of the city wall, Hu Junxian remained alone, watching the sun rise.

"Righteous spirit, my foot," he chuckled self-deprecatingly, bending to pick up a broken brick.

He weighed it in his hand.

Then hurled it far off into the distance.