Chapter 1267: One Battle Secures the Southwest (Part 4) [Seeking Monthly Tickets]
On the way up the mountain, Cui Zhi secretly observed the scholar beside him.
The age of a scholar cannot be roughly judged from his appearance. A scholar who looks like a young man in his twenties may actually be seventy or eighty years old. The scholar beside him was the same. He had a dignified appearance and a calm and serene temperament. He did not have the crazy appearance of the cultists of the Eternal Life Sect. His eyes were like the shimmering waves of a dark river.
Such demeanor could only be cultivated by someone of noble birth or someone who has held a high position of power for many years. Cui Zhi couldn't help but feel a little curious: "I see that you, sir, have the bearing of a dragon and the grace of a phoenix. How could you believe in the seductive heresies of the Eternal Life Cult?"
The sun, moon, mountains, and rivers are not static.
How dare a mere mortal dream of immortality?
Such talent, yet she served as a pawn for the Eternal Life Sect—a waste of her potential. When Cui Zhi closed his eyes, he was astonished to find his side empty; he couldn't sense the other person's presence at all. He guessed that the other person was either a master of internal martial arts or a prodigy skilled at concealing their aura. Such ability meant they could silently approach him without him noticing—a situation warranting caution.
The scholar did not answer immediately.
He gazed at the winding mountain path that stretched upwards, and for some reason, a series of unbearable palpitations gripped his heart, as if an invisible hand were squeezing it, and the owner of that hand was looking down on him, enjoying his loss of composure. The scholar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and suppressed the strange feeling in his heart.
The scholar said, "I don't believe it."
Cui Zhi seemed surprised by this answer.
"If you don't believe it, why did you gather a crowd to surround the mountain?"
The scholar frankly admitted, "Of course, it's for survival."
"To save their lives? They choose to incite rebellion? The Eternal Life Cult incites the common people, shakes the foundations of the nation, and its crimes are countless. And yet, they are just a bunch of incompetent rabble; I'm afraid they'll end up with nothing but a wasted effort and lose their lives." Cui Zhi was seething with anger. The plague in Tianqing County could only be blamed on the local government's negligence and incompetence, but the scale of the turmoil, indirectly causing the death of his mother-in-law, was inextricably linked to the escalating rebellion of the Eternal Life Cult.
"A true man born between heaven and earth should have the ambition to overturn the universe and reshape humanity." The scholar tried to distract himself from his growing anxiety by talking to Cui Zhi. "Looking at Cui Lang, he is also a dragon among men, born into a prominent family. When has he ever bowed down to look at the world?"
This is a mockery of Cui Zhi for being ignorant of human suffering.
Cui Zhi sneered inwardly.
The scholar then asked, "Has Young Master Cui ever raised rabbits?"
Cui Zhi didn't know why he brought this up, but he still followed the topic and answered: "No, but my wife and daughter bought two at the night market. They were unlucky and only bought a male and a female. After keeping them in the yard for a few months without checking on them, several more litters appeared."
This is also a heartwarming and amusing story.
To curb the rabbit population, Cui Zhi specifically ordered that the rabbits be disposed of and served, leaving only two male rabbits to be raised, so that he wouldn't have trouble explaining it to his youngest daughter if she ever wanted to. Cui Hui even joked at the time: "With the Cui family's wealth and influence, do we really need a few more rabbits? The Flower Festival is coming soon; we can sell them at the night markets. Those young ladies love these snowballs."
Not only did they not lose money, they actually made a small profit.
Cui Zhi said helplessly, "We don't lack rabbit meat, but we also don't lack the few coins to sell rabbits. Wouldn't it be a laughing stock if we took them out to sell?"
[As long as you don't have the name Cui Zhishan etched on your face, even if buyers recognize your face, they won't dare associate you with the head of the Cui family.] Cui Hui picked up one of the surviving rabbits and rubbed its snow-white fur against his cheek.
Thinking about these things, he finally felt less bitter.
Cui Zhi was preoccupied with the past, but the scholar beside him did not notice and continued to speak to himself: "For survival, rabbits have an amazing ability to endure pain and bear suffering. Aren't all living beings rabbits? If they had no other choice but to retreat or endure no more, who would be willing to leave the fields on which their ancestors depended for their livelihood to become a traitor?"
When fear and pain exceed their limits, the rabbit will scream.
The same applies to people.
Once the pain inflicted by external forces exceeds a critical point, it often leads to either self-destruction or the violent killing of others—there are no exceptions. Those who haven't reached that point are simply still enduring it. What right do those who hold positions without contributing have to question why these people don't continue to endure it? Because the other party is so inhuman, they've finally snapped.
It's that simple.
Cui Zhi asked, "Do you think it's a case of officials forcing the people to rebel?"
"If Heaven is immoral, then Heaven shall be replaced; if the ruler is immoral, then the ruler shall be replaced."
Cui Zhi hadn't expected that there were one or two worthwhile individuals among the rabble, but he asked curiously, "Does the master know what you mean, sir?"
Those in positions of power tend to seek stability and docility.
The ruler should act as a ruler, the minister as a minister, the father as a father, and the son as a son.
No ruler would want their subordinates to be obsessed with the idea that "if Heaven is unjust, then Heaven should be replaced; if the ruler is unjust, then the ruler should be replaced." Who can guarantee they will always be "just"? And who would willingly accept being replaced once they are "unjust"?
The scholar said, "That's exactly what the master thinks."
All the civil and military officials in Kangguo were skilled at writing self-criticisms, with the emperor, who loved to "examine himself three times a day," being the most proactive. Even if there were no natural disasters throughout the year, he would still issue a "self-reproach edict" at the New Year to reflect on why he hadn't achieved various strange and unusual targets, such as per capita clothing, per capita food and daily necessities, per capita housing, etc. He once suspected that the reason why talent didn't come was because he was too lazy.
One person can watch it as an inspiring and exciting spectacle.
A group of people frantically scrolling through books is the hell of the corporate slave.
Cui Zhi: "...Is that so?"
Oh, he doesn't believe it.
Not only did they not believe it, but they also made a sarcastic remark: "Duke Zhou feared rumors when he was in power, and Wang Mang was humble before his usurpation. Had they died then, who would know the truth of their lives? Truly perfect people are indeed rising stars, capable of uttering any sweet words."
When they haven't succeeded, their words are more eloquent than their actions.
Once they succeed, their true colors begin to show.
The scholar thought about his lord and, after some calculations, realized that his lord had already been in the business for half his life and could no longer be considered a "rising star." However, there was no need to argue with a stranger about these things. His silence, however, was interpreted by Cui Zhi as a kind of unspeakable guilt.
Not long after, the scholar was heard panting softly.
Cui Zhi glanced sideways and saw that the scholar's handsome face was deathly pale, almost devoid of color, and his lips, devoid of luster, showed clear lines, making him appear somewhat frail. He frowned slightly, thinking that the scholar had contracted a hidden illness.
While wondering whether she should avoid the situation to avoid being framed, she still had to feign concern and say a few words: "Are you feeling unwell, sir?"
Heaven have mercy, I did nothing.
Is this person trying to frame me?
The scholar rubbed his chest, his brow furrowed in frustration.
His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were filled with tears: "I don't know why, but I feel uncomfortable as soon as I arrive here."
As the pain intensified, the knife and fan in his hand lost their grip and fell to the ground.
Cui Zhi took a half step back to the side, looked around warily but found nothing amiss, and said, "I, Cui, have always been upright and have never stooped to such underhanded tactics. Your heart ailment has nothing to do with me."
The scholar twitched the corner of his mouth.
They were quick to distance themselves from the situation.
"I trust Cui Lang's integrity." He took several deep breaths, bent down to pick up the sword and fan that had slipped from his hand, and, using an angle where Cui Zhi couldn't see him, forced back the tears that were almost out of control, and asked in a nonchalant tone, "If I may ask, what caused your father-in-law's death?"
Since they were there to offer incense and pay their respects, it was natural to inquire about the basic circumstances. This was to avoid accidentally saying something offensive to the family when exchanging pleasantries with the deceased's descendants later in the mourning hall. Cui Zhi understood these customs and didn't find the scholar's inquiry presumptuous: "He was murdered by a villain."
Just five words were enough to silence the scholar.
He worried that if he continued to press the matter, they might tell him that the villain was a believer in eternal life, which would be embarrassing, and he might even be kicked out of the funeral hall by the enraged family. He vaguely sighed, "Amidst countless disasters and hardships, the people suffer greatly. This person has passed away; please accept my deepest condolences, Mr. Cui."
It would have been better if he hadn't said anything, because saying it only stirred up Cui Zhi's sorrow.
Cui Zhi was a typical scion of a prominent family. From birth, he was cared for by three or four wet nurses. In his memory, his mother was always indifferent to him, her mind preoccupied with her husband, her family, household affairs, and Cui Zhi's academic talents. She rarely paid attention to Cui Zhi as a person. Although the mother and son wanted to be close, there was always an invisible barrier between them.
As he grew older, he showed more respect to his mother than affection.
His mother never talked to him, let alone offered him any advice.
However, my mother-in-law is different.
He sensed in her the warmth of an ordinary mother and son, free from the cold, distant rules and the daunting calculations of self-interest—simply a mother and son. Her words of comfort might not solve the real problems, but they allowed Cui Zhi a brief respite, preventing him from collapsing.
Cui Zhi snapped out of her daze, her eyes already wet with tears.
She sighed and wiped away her tears: "I've lost my composure; please forgive me, sir."
Since the other party didn't know his true identity anyway, it wasn't so shameful to shed tears in front of them. Cui Zhi could already see the Qingshui Nunnery at the end of his sight, and led the scholar inside to the side hall where the coffin was laid to rest. The scholar washed his hands with the mountain spring water at the entrance and took three sticks of incense from Cui Zhi. The mourning hall was simple, with a small coffin sitting alone in the center, and no one was there to keep vigil or mourn...
Cui Zhi guessed who he was looking for just by looking at his gaze, and explained, "My mother-in-law was the abbess of this nunnery before she passed away. She took in many homeless women and children, as well as abandoned baby girls. After the disaster, she also took in sick refugees, mostly accommodating them in the more spacious backyard. The nunnery is running out of rice and food, so my wife must have gone to comfort them..."
The scholar was even more impressed upon hearing this.
For some reason, as he stood in this cold and desolate mourning hall, the palpitations that had plagued him on the way up the mountain vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed. The scholar looked at the simple coffin and unconsciously shed tears, even forgetting to light incense. Cui Zhi was completely bewildered; anyone who didn't know better would have thought the scholar's mother-in-law lay inside.
Even if it's an act, there's no need to go to such lengths.
Just as Cui Zhi was about to speak up to remind him, the scholar suddenly asked a question.
"Why is there no memorial tablet set up in the memorial hall for your father-in-law?" There are only some offerings on the offering table, and the most important memorial tablet is not set up at all.
Cui Zhi said, "This is my mother-in-law's instruction."
To everyone's surprise, the scholar reacted strongly: "Why?"
Cui Zhi had also asked Cui Hui if he needed to set up a memorial tablet for his mother-in-law, but Cui Hui replied that it was his late mother's last wish: "Perhaps... she wanted to remain anonymous before the King of Hell. My mother-in-law made some mistakes in her early years, doing things she could never forgive herself for. She tried her best to make amends over the years, but the resentment still lingered in her heart. She felt guilty and wanted to atone for her sins in this way. As a junior, I naturally cannot disobey the wishes of my elders." Although these sins were nothing in the eyes of the Cui family head, turning to banditry was out of necessity.
Given the state of the world, how can we blame those who are struggling to survive?
However, he harbored doubts about the scholar beside him.
The other party's reaction was very strange.
Why did he shed tears at his mother-in-law's funeral?
"This incense won't light."
Cui Zhi glanced at it and said, "Perhaps it got damp due to improper storage."
In short, get them off the mountain as soon as possible.
The scholar used his literary energy to dry the three incense sticks, and they were successfully lit.
Just then, footsteps came from outside the mourning hall. Cui Zhi recognized Cui Hui immediately and turned around, asking, "Where did Ke Wu go?"
He turned around and naturally didn't see the scholar's suddenly stiff back.
Cui Hui said, "Something happened in the back hall."
Her gaze followed the scholar's retreating figure, vaguely recognizing him, and she looked at Cui Zhi questioningly. Cui Zhi reassured her, telling her that the scholar had only come to offer condolences. Upon learning this, the icy expression on Cui Hui's face softened considerably.
Only then did the couple realize that the scholar had been facing away from the side hall's main gate, his back to Cui Hui, and facing the coffin. Cui Hui couldn't see him from his angle, but Cui Zhi, standing there, could clearly see the scholar lost in thought. Hot incense ash fell from the top, hitting the scholar's wrist and instantly burning a red mark. He seemed to have his soul ripped out, standing there like a wooden puppet, looking extremely strange.
Cui Zhi raised his hand and placed it on the hilt of the sword at his waist.
The cultist before him was behaving erratically and didn't seem like a good person at all. What if he suddenly attacked at his mother-in-law's funeral...? Thinking of this possibility, a terrifying killing intent brewed in Cui Zhi's eyes. He slowly pushed open the hilt with his thumb and drew out a section of the gleaming blade.
The atmosphere was so suffocating that it was hard to breathe.
Cui Hui's heart suddenly began to pound wildly, showing signs of losing control. She stepped forward, wanting to get a better look at the person, but before her outstretched hand could reach them, Cui Zhi forcefully pressed it down.
"Five grams?"
"Five grams..."
"How could you be Ke Wu?"
A hoarse, ghostly voice escaped from the scholar's throat, gradually becoming clearer, more confused, and then more frantic, as he repeatedly murmured Cui Hui's name. Cui Zhi was naturally displeased, but he was even more puzzled by this man's identity and why he could make Ke Wu lose his composure.
Suddenly, a bizarre idea popped into my head.
Could he be...?
Before Cui Zhi could voice his guess, the scholar suddenly turned around, revealing a pair of bloodshot, scarlet eyes. The muscles in his face twitched occasionally as he was moved by his emotions. From the details, it was clear that the master was suppressing his emotions to the extreme.
He pointed at the coffin and demanded sharply, "Who is here?"
Cui Hui's face remained cold and hard: "What do you think?"
Cui Zhi had never seen Cui Hui like this before.
Even during the fiercest arguments between the couple, Cui Hui had never shown him such a cold and hard attitude. Could this scholar before him really be that person? Indescribable emotions churned in Cui Zhi's chest, eroding his reason, and he could only barely hold on.
Or rather, one must not lose one's manners and demeanor.
Before Cui Zhi could even open his mouth to probe the other party's identity, the scholar in front of him, who was crying uncontrollably, suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
He staggered backward, only managing to stay upright by bracing himself against the offering table. Cui Zhi stepped forward to support him, placing his fingers on the man's pulse. With a slight probe of his spiritual energy, he discovered that the man's meridians were disordered. The man said, "No one is famous before the King of Hell... no one is famous... no one is famous?"
"Are you an unknown person?"
"What am I!"
(ˇдˇ)
A reminder to myself not to forget to launch the fund promotion at the end of the month _(:з」∠)_
(End of this chapter)
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