Volume 4, Chapter 16 – Choice

So in the rumors about the Upper Realm Illusory Realms, I already have that kind of personality, huh. Bai Xiang fell silent. But there wasn’t much to say in her own defense.

Considering that Longchuan Circuit wasn’t far from Zhen’nan Circuit and that it would be easy to rush back if something happened here, she left messages on her phone for Song Ruhua, Guo Rongzhi, and the others, kindly asking them to contact her at once if anything went wrong in their circuit. Then she headed up to the viewing platform and slipped into the air, flying off.

Elsewhere, in the newly built State Chancery residence of Mao State, Zhang Xianzhi held Bai Xiang’s letter in his hands but didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he was hosting Bai Zhuqing, peppering the girl with questions.

“I see,” he said, nodding. “Since this is Dao Master Bai’s opinion, I will make sure it’s handled quickly and try to restore full information access by tonight.”

Bai Zhuqing hadn’t expected him to lower his stance so much. Even with the best upbringing, she felt a little awkward and had to force herself to keep her expression steady, saying things like, “There’s no need to rush,” and, “My sister is only making a suggestion. The real decision still has to be made by you, Prefect Zhang,” and the like.

After the girl left, Zhang Xianzhi finally unsealed the letter. He held it with both hands and read it intently. Only after a long moment did he raise his head. “Seeing her handwriting is like seeing her in person. I can see in her a hint of Chu Weiping’s style from back in the day.”

“Really? She can actually be compared to ‘Chu the Invincible’?”

With that skeptical remark, a middle-aged man with a long beard stepped out from behind the screen, wearing a splendid embroidered robe and holding a folding fan, the very picture of a cultivated scholar.

His name was Xu Ling, and he, like Zhang Xianzhi, had once failed the entrance exam to become a disciple of Mr. Cijing, Liu Haoran. After parting ways with their teacher, he went to the Jiangnan region to develop on his own, and managed to make quite a name for himself.

Here we have to pause on one point: Xu Ling’s current title was “Overseer of Jiangnan,” a post that in theory allowed him to oversee the planning of more than two Dao cities. If Zhang Xianzhi hadn’t been recommended to Chilong Circuit and seized the chance to become State Governor, Xu Ling’s official rank would be far above his.

It was, in fact, rather ironic. People like Zhang Xianzhi crisscrossed the land, getting their hands dirty—he had seen the yellow sands beyond the northwestern passes, ridden shoulder to shoulder with soldiers to slaughter foreign tribes—and yet, in the end, his prospects had lagged behind those of his classmate who remained comfortably in Jiangnan enjoying the good life.

As for Xu Ling, he hadn’t really done anything concrete. His so-called reputation came from gathering with scions of great clans to compose poetry. Because his poems were good, he won favor, and naturally he climbed upward.

Many hands-on officials looked down on this type of civil servant most of all. But Zhang Xianzhi treated this senior fellow disciple with courtesy.

He understood that the “bookish fop” act was just a mask Xu Ling put on in public.

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Xu Ling had long since seen clearly that going out to get things done and “show results” was a much slower road to promotion than cozying up to aristocratic families and using those ties for recommendations and advancement.

But then the question became: if everyone’s goal was to reach high office and hold greater power so they could benefit the country and the people, who could say this road was wrong?

For most, there would be worries about being corrupted or assimilated along the way, but Zhang Xianzhi knew the kind of man Xu Ling was. The fact that their old teacher Liu Haoran had stopped contacting him, yet continued to exchange letters with Xu Ling, already said a lot.

This senior brother of his was someone who carried great righteousness in his heart.

His ambition, his ideals, his level of insight—before Zhang Xianzhi woke up to reality, they had all been far beyond his own.

This time, Xu Ling had come all this way to find Zhang Xianzhi because he was following Liu Haoran’s guidance. Before losing contact, Liu had called Xu Ling and warned him, “Jiangnan may not remain stable. Given the path you’ve chosen, it would be better to resign and go to Mao State. There may be greater prospects there.”

Xu Ling still held deep respect for Liu Haoran. When he realized his teacher truly had gone missing not long after, he decisively resigned his lofty post. Aside from a bit of money and a few possessions, he brought only a cherished folding fan and set off alone, light-hearted, to Mao State.

He had only just arrived today and originally planned to share drinks with Zhang Xianzhi. He hadn’t expected to run into Bai Zhuqing delivering a letter, and that had naturally sparked his curiosity about Bai Xiang.

“Dao Master Bai’s talent can be described as dazzling,” Zhang Xianzhi said, rising to invite him to sit, only then giving his answer. “She’s not beneath Chu Weiping—if anything, she stands above him.”

“That exaggerated?” Xu Ling clicked his tongue. He thought again of all the rumors he’d heard along the way. They were clearly worlds apart from what he was hearing now.

“So you’ve decided to keep assisting her like this?” He looked over at Zhang Xianzhi again, his gaze sharp. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, Junior Brother Xianzhi.”

He had deliberately used the word “assist,” which was a pointed way of implying that Zhang Xianzhi had already changed his target.

Right now, if he went outside and asked any official, most of them would say “Zhang Xianzhi is the emperor’s man.”

Not just that, they’d put him in the “favorite” category. When all the upheaval in Mao State broke out a while ago, the Court had credited most of the achievements to this State Governor and Prefect Zhang, while treating the true meritorious party rather coldly, letting the Office of Rites toss out a few polite words of praise before closing the book on it.

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And in the past, Zhang Xianzhi really had been firmly set on assisting the Sacred Emperor of Great Yu, hoping to make his mark.

But now…

If a word like “assist” wasn’t being used for the emperor, but for someone else instead, then it started to sound a bit treasonous.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Xu Ling said. “Based on the intel I’ve gathered, the conflict between the Court and that Bai Zhixing is at the level of ‘irreconcilable.’”

“Oh?” Zhang Xianzhi had been about to answer the earlier question, but this piqued his interest. “What do you mean by that?”

Xu Ling said, “You know about how I almost became a son-in-law of the Lü clan, right?”

Zhang Xianzhi blinked and nodded lightly.

The Lü clan referred to the entire family behind Lü Fengyan.

Lord Lü the Censor. One of the Three Excellencies. Even His Majesty had to be polite to him. In Yujing his status was comparable to Prime Minister Liu. For someone of Xu Ling’s almost common birth, being able to marry into that family was a heaven-sent opportunity.

But he had turned it down, causing a huge uproar among the gossips at the time. A lot of people simply couldn’t understand his decision.

“I was originally going to accept,” Xu Ling said with a smile. “My path was always about throwing myself to the tigers anyway. Besides, she was a beautiful young lady. It’s not like I’d be losing out. What was there to be afraid of?”

“But then, halfway through, Master Liu sent someone to relay a message, warning me not to get too deeply entangled with them for the time being. That’s the only reason I declined. I only learned the reason afterward.”

Zhang Xianzhi’s eyes shone. “What reason?”

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Xu Ling widened his own eyes. “A matter of life and death.”

Then he went on, “Everyone knows that the Sacred Dynasty of Yu pacified the realm through the Sword Dao, and that the Sword Dao is the national art of Great Yu. But very few know the hidden details behind that, that the flourishing of the Sword Dao has long since been tied directly to the fate of the dynasty.”

“When Lord Lü the Censor proposed to take me as a son-in-law, his real purpose was to test me.”

“If I’d agreed, I’d probably already be a pile of dry bones in a grave by now.”

Xu Ling didn’t spell it out too clearly, but it was enough for Zhang Xianzhi to understand.

Sword Dao… national fate…

If he was interpreting this correctly, his senior brother was implying that beyond the surface-level ties—things like the Sword Dao Association and other organizations—the development of the Sword Dao itself directly affected the prosperity and decline of the imperial family of Great Yu.

He couldn’t yet figure out how such a thing was achieved, but Xu Ling was not the type to boast about this sort of topic. Zhang Xianzhi decided to trust him.

Even so, he still gave a firm answer. “I still plan to stay here.”

“I did walk the wrong road before,” he sighed. “Now that I’ve taken on the role of Prefect and personally lived through two disasters, what I’ve seen and heard is very different from what I once believed. At this point, I don’t think I can approve of who I used to be.”

The implication was clear: he was no longer that Zhang Xianzhi who devoted himself wholeheartedly to serving the Court.

Treasonous or not, Zhang Xianzhi felt this was perfectly normal.

Put anyone else in his position—so long as that person still wanted to do real work, to do what was right—after watching Mao State develop, after comparing what the Bai family meant to Mao State with what the Court had done for it, they would almost certainly make the same choice.

“I understand you,” Xu Ling said with a nod. “But your path is very different from mine.”

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Never mind how Zhang Xianzhi spoke of his “past self.” Xu Ling knew perfectly well that his junior brother’s pursuit had never truly changed: he was all about doing things, about practical action.

No matter how small the matter, he would start doing it first and build it up bit by bit, as long as it benefited the country and society.

But Xu Ling himself was different.

There used to be an old saying: “Even an honest judge finds it hard to settle a family dispute.” In Xu Ling’s mind, that saying needed one character changed. Swap out “honest” for “corrupt.”

If you refuse to join the current, your promotions will be slow.

By the time you finally claw your way up to the position of Circuit Overseer, I will have already spent years as Overseer of Jiangnan. Which of us do you think will wield greater influence?

So what if I go along with the flow? I can still “invent nice-sounding projects” to get real work done. From the high perch I occupy, even my aftershocks carry more volume than all the petitions you spent years writing that never made it through. Whose efforts do you think will bring more blessings to the common folk?

That was why he said his path and Zhang Xianzhi’s were different.

Junior Brother Xianzhi could switch to assisting someone else without any psychological burden.

But as for him…

He needed to watch a little longer and see exactly what kind of breadth of vision this Bai Zhixing possessed.

———————— Disclaimer: Xu’s views do not represent the author’s personal views. The author does not agree with them; they exist purely to serve the story.