Although Cui Yu was an outstanding talent among this generation of the Cui family, his generational standing was still low, and there were peers with even better natural gifts. Ever since joining Qingming, he had essentially spent all of his family merit and monthly allowance exchanging for intelligence that Wei Yuan needed.
Wei Yuan knew this full well, but for now, he had no good way to compensate him.
With Cui Yu's current standing in the clan, he could not obtain the core secrets of the various royal families. Wei Yuan, however, had no need for so much; for now, understanding what was known on the surface was sufficient.
Wei Yuan originally had no interest in Western Jin's succession struggle. Yet Consort Yuan's final hints had been glaringly obvious; if he didn't help her, who knew what she might do? If word ever reached the ears of the King of Jin, Western Jin might well mobilize the entire country's army to flatten Qingming.
How to help, however, was an art in itself.
Wei Yuan first took stock of his current advantages. First, he commanded heavy troops and was stationed on the frontier. Second, his personal strength was decent, enough to battle an unexceptional dharma idol cultivator. The third lay further ahead: Qingming was rich in resources, and as the domain continued to expand, its yields would only grow richer.
In a struggle for the succession, the first point was paramount. Personal strength played an important role, but it fell short of the first.
Wei Yuan used the Hall of Merits to exchange for a large batch of history books, hoping to see how heavily armed border generals had historically participated in succession struggles.
As he read on, Wei Yuan felt more and more unsettled. Why did none of these figures have a good reputation, let alone a good end?
In the next instant, however, he realized the truth: not all of them had met bad ends. Some had succeeded, rendering the meritorious service of supporting a rising dragon, and naturally proceeded to whitewash their actions thoroughly. After all, the history books were theirs to write at that point.
A few were so successful that they simply became the true dragon themselves. Thus, their deeds were recorded in the founding annals of the dynastic grand ancestors, nowhere to be found in the biographical chapters Wei Yuan was reading, much less the chronicles of treacherous ministers.
Reading further, Wei Yuan finally understood. If an endeavor succeeded, one became a dynastic founder, a restorer of fortunes, or at least a founding luminary. If one failed, the capable were relegated to the chronicles of treacherous ministers, while the less capable were summed up in a single line: *So-and-so raised an army and was defeated.*
After spending an entire day reading history books and imagining himself in their shoes, Wei Yuan broke into a cold sweat several times.
As for his own strength, though on paper it would still take a year to break through, that was merely a theoretical estimate. The newly reclaimed hundred thousand mu of regular grain fields had already been sown, and several thousand mu of spiritual fields planted with millet rice were about to be harvested. Once harvested, this new batch could serve as seeds to open up even more spiritual fields.
In other words, in six months at most, once the next two batches of grain were harvested, the spiritual qi they contributed would be enough for Wei Yuan's breakthrough. If all went swiftly, perhaps three months would suffice.
Wei Yuan then considered the domain's military might.
Strictly speaking, Ji Liuli, like Bao Yun, could not be counted among the domain's standing combat strength. The same applied to Cui Yu; sooner or later, he would return to inherit his family business. Although this generation of the Cui family had more brilliant geniuses, the Cui estate was simply too vast for a single genius to swallow whole. Cui Yu was guaranteed a substantial share.
The same was true for scions of aristocratic families like Wang Yu and Xu Yi. Their brighter prospects lay within their clans, not charging on the front lines behind Wei Yuan.
Leaving aside the aristocratic clans, Wei Yuan currently held roughly seven hundred Dao Foundations, several dozen of whom were newly captured prisoners. In addition, there were three thousand Body Casting cultivators at full completion. Within the domain, this group was truly the cream of the crop, though outside they could only be called fairly distinguished. Finally, there were tens of thousands of ordinary Body Casting cultivators.
Within the domain, Wei Yuan had used this very army to withstand an assault by one hundred thousand Shaman elites. Though their performance would plummet the moment they stepped outside, Wei Yuan could always expand the domain outward.
By now, the domain's harvest of mortal grain was complete, leaving over four million jin stored in the granaries.
With troops and grain in hand, Wei Yuan felt, for the first time, the confidence to carve out an independent faction and disrupt court affairs.
The moment the thought arose, Wei Yuan shuddered in fright. Why was he thinking about such things? If not for the living souls in the Shattered Lands, he would never have tied himself to this place.
Yet it was also an undeniable fact that his troops were strong, his horses sturdy, and his grain ample. Was he supposed to just waste away his time?
Just as Wei Yuan was wrestling with his thoughts, Yu Zhizhuo knocked on the door. The moment he laid eyes on Wei Yuan, his face bloomed with delight. Grabbing Wei Yuan's hand, he said, "Nephew, you've returned just in time! I happened to discover a vein of primordial copper underground, and I've been waiting for you!"
Yu Zhizhuo appeared extremely urgent, practically dragging Wei Yuan along until his feet left the ground. Wei Yuan couldn't help but notice the contrast: Martial Uncle Yu's hands were hard and coarse, just like his beloved ores. Consort Yuan's hands were soft and agile, capable of transforming into all things under heaven, omnipotent. And his master's hand...
Wei Yuan hurriedly swept the dangerous thought from his mind.
Yu Zhizhuo's flight was completely unadorned, but blistering fast. In the blink of an eye, he brought Wei Yuan deep into the underground mine tunnels. Having been away for only a few days, the tunnel had already extended dozens of zhang deeper into the earth. Clearly, this progress had not satisfied Yu Zhizhuo, which was why he had dragged Wei Yuan down the moment he returned.
Before Wei Yuan lay a mineral vein mottled with patches of green, exuding a rather peculiar ore aura—predominantly metal, complemented by wood.
Without needing Yu Zhizhuo to say a word, Wei Yuan knew what to do as soon as his uncle pointed forward. He unleashed the Golden Light Water Blade Art. Yet a moment later, Wei Yuan let out a soft exclamation and halted the torrent.
Under normal circumstances, blasting for this long would have driven the tunnel at least a dozen zhang deeper, but right now it had only advanced three zhang. Wei Yuan reached out to dig, and the rock and ore yielded under his grip like soft mud, coming away in a large chunk.
Examining it closely for a moment, Wei Yuan felt that this ore seemed exceptionally resistant to Dao force. Striking it with ten parts of Dao force yielded less than three parts in effect.
By then, Yu Zhizhuo had set up an array plate that projected a three-dimensional diagram of the underground cavern. From the diagram, it was evident that the surrounding area had already been excavated into a spiderweb of tunnels.
"This vein is somewhat unusual. The ore is extraordinarily resistant to Dao force; it isn't ordinary primordial copper. If we can isolate this component, it will make top-tier material for defensive dharma treasures. But we can talk about isolating it later. First, let's mine it."
Yu Zhizhuo traced a winding line on the diagram and said, "Dig along this for now."
Wei Yuan unleashed another Water Blade Art, but the effect remained underwhelming. In truth, the Water Blade Art was exceptionally efficient at excavation; even if Yu Zhizhuo and several of his junior brothers combined their efforts, they couldn't match Wei Yuan alone.
Excavating ordinary veins was one thing, but whenever an unusual vein appeared or large-scale prospecting was needed, Yu Zhizhuo loved dragging Wei Yuan along, as it boosted prospecting efficiency tenfold or a hundredfold.
Even with its efficiency reduced to thirty percent, anyone else would be even slower unless they abandoned Dao arts entirely and chiseled away with brute manual force.
A flash of inspiration struck Wei Yuan's mind. The stream of water in his hand suddenly turned crimson, radiating waves of scorching heat. The mineral vein ahead instantly melted away like snow before a blazing sun.
Wei Yuan had tried infusing the aura of his newly acquired Red Lotus Bodhi, and the effect was astonishing. But after digging only a few strokes, his heart sank.
Sure enough, Yu Zhizhuo's eyes lit up, his hands rubbing together in sheer excitement.
By the time Wei Yuan finally emerged from the underground caverns, it was already the following dawn. It truly bore out the old saying from his hometown: the capable mule was always worked to death first.
Exhausted, he returned to his quarters, having gained familiarity with a dozen new types of ores along the way. Just as Wei Yuan was too tired to even twitch a finger, another cultivator knocked and delivered a letter, saying, "This is a letter for you from the Commandery Governor of Ningxi."
*Yuan Qingyan?*
Wei Yuan perked up. Had the fellow finally realized his error and written to surrender?
Opening the letter, however, fury surged within him. This was no letter of surrender, but an invitation for *him* to surrender. Calculating that Wei Yuan must have run out of grain, Yuan Qingyan had written to persuade him to submit to the imperial court. If Wei Yuan was willing to hand over Qingming, Yuan Qingyan would readily yield the post of commandery governor to him.
The wording was earnest, but given Wei Yuan's temperament, the letter was less an overture than a declaration of war. Yuan Qingyan could not be unaware of this. Did he believe victory was already in his grasp, and thus come intentionally to taunt him?
Yet the present Wei Yuan was no longer who he used to be. He was, after all, a distinguished general among the imperial in-laws, confident that he could eventually deal with Yuan Qingyan without causing a stir. Gathering his wits, Wei Yuan picked up the chronicles of treacherous ministers once more, studying in detail how to fabricate unfounded charges and frame loyal and righteous officials.
At that thought, Wei Yuan spat several times in disgust. Since when did Yuan Qingyan count as a loyal official?
After a brief rest, it was time for the cultivators of the Palace of Grand Beginning to convene. While called a council, it was actually an exchange of their respective research progress. After reading Xu Wenwu's travel records, the cultivators' horizons had broadened, and their imaginations had run wild. The things they studied grew increasingly bizarre, so no matter how busy Wei Yuan was, he made a point to attend these regular sessions.
The honeycomb flying sword launchers that had performed so brilliantly had taken their inspiration from these very gatherings.
In no time, everyone had assembled. The main hall used for their discussions was already quite cramped. Wei Yuan had long wanted to build a dedicated council hall at the foot of the main peak, but he had never managed to find the time.
Before the discussion could even begin, a cultivator came rushing in and presented a calling card, saying, "A young monk has arrived outside, asking to see the Domain Lord by name."
"See me? Denied!" The very word *monk* gave Wei Yuan a headache these days.
Just then, a Buddhist chant rang out from outside the door, followed by a voice: "Benefactor Wei is indeed busy. In that case, this humble monk must take the liberty of inviting himself in."
As the words fell, a monk pushed the door open and entered.
The young monk was of tender years, with vermilion lips and white teeth. He was exceptionally handsome, enough to outshine most of the world's so-called beauties. Yet his bearing was peculiar—neither steeped in Zen intent and overflowing with Buddha-nature like an eminent monk, nor detached from worldly dust and empty of all four elements.
He possessed an ethereal air, yet an outward sharpness shone forth, like a jade blade.
For this young monk to penetrate deep into the heart of the domain and arrive right outside the door under the noses of everyone from the Palace of Grand Beginning, he clearly possessed no small measure of cultivation.
Upon seeing Wei Yuan, he chanted a Buddhist proclamation and said, "Benefactor, you have acted against the natural order and accumulated profound sins. This humble monk has come specifically to deliver you. I only hope Benefactor will lay down the butcher's blade and turn back to the shore. Repenting now is not yet too late."
The young monk's voice was melodious and pleasant, carrying an innate power of conviction. Yet the more Wei Yuan listened, the more outrageous it sounded, and rage welled up from the depths of his heart.
*I acted against the natural order and accumulated profound sins? Does this little monk have poor eyesight and mistake me for someone else?*
As though hearing Wei Yuan's inner thoughts, the young monk said solemnly, "Benefactor Wei appears unconvinced. Allow this humble monk to enumerate your transgressions."
Wei Yuan sneered, curious to hear what the monk had to say.
"In your war against the Shamans, you repeatedly drove commoners onto slaughterous battlefields, creating boundless karmic slaughter. That is your first crime. You forcibly relocated over a hundred thousand people from Quliu Town, resulting in more than a thousand dying along the road. That is your second crime. You disguised yourself as horse bandits, plundered military rations, and slaughtered over a hundred innocent imperial soldiers. That is your third crime..."
As crime after crime was enumerated, Wei Yuan's brows gradually knitted into a scowl.
So leading the entire domain to fight to the death against the Shamans was a sin? That counted as *driving commoners*?
Before the battles, Wei Yuan had indeed never asked for the commoners' consent. Aside from children, willing or not, all had to step onto the battlefield in moments of crisis. Blessed by the Ephemeral Multitude, any mortal possessed a degree of combat strength.
Yet this was a fight for survival; how could anyone cater to every individual's wishes? If he had to ask each person whether they were willing to take the field before fighting, there would be no need for battle at all—they might as well have surrendered to the Shamans on the spot.
If this counted as sinful, then across these ten thousand li of surrounding land, those whose sins were far heavier than Wei Yuan's were legion. Why hadn't this monk gone knocking on their doors? Did he think Wei Yuan was an easy target?
The young monk enumerated eleven grave sins against Wei Yuan, then barked sharply, "So many have died because of you! What more does Benefactor have to say?"
The young monk's eyes blazed, his aura soaring, prepared to engage in a rigorous debate with Wei Yuan. When it came to debating scripture, monks were professionals.
Wei Yuan appeared lost in thought. Then he looked at the monk and uttered a single word:
"Scram!"
The young monk's cultivation was still lacking after all. His face slowly flushed red. He chanted a Buddhist proclamation and began rolling up his sleeves. "Since Benefactor remains obstinately blind to reason and refuses to listen to sense, this humble monk also knows a little fisticuffs."
In the crowded room, Zhang Sheng, Ji Liuli, Yu Zhizhuo, Sun Yu, and Feng Tingyu all pricked up their ears and raised their heads at the exact same moment. Perfected Chuhe's two spirit pets were currently toiling in the fields, so it was not his turn to step forward; thus, he remained placid.
Wei Yuan had already been in a foul mood these past few days and was thoroughly allergic to monks. Hearing those words, he slowly grinned, revealing two rows of teeth so gleaming white they glinted with cold malice. He gave a sinister chuckle. "Knows a little fisticuffs, is it..."
A cup of tea's time later, at the edge of the domain, Wei Yuan grabbed the young monk—whose face was now black and blue and whose body was covered in boot prints—and hurled him out of the boundary.
"Scram as far as you can! For the sake of the Great Treasure Radiance Pure Land, I'll spare your life this once. If I catch sight of you again, don't blame me for aiming only at your face!"
The young monk struggled to climb to his feet, still defiant. He shouted, "You are burdened with slaughter, and resentment has surely seeped deep into your primordial spirit! How could this humble monk be mistaken!"
Wei Yuan let out a hearty laugh and extended a hand. A hazy radiance suddenly bloomed from his palm, bearing a strange resemblance to Buddhist light. The glow was warm, pure, and utterly devoid of impurity.
Wei Yuan sneered, "Take a good look. From inside out, where is there even a speck of resentment in this dharma body of mine? If you can find any, I'll be impressed!"
The young monk peered closely. Sure enough, it was crystalline and translucent, spotless and without defilement, comparable to the pure, glazed dharma body attained upon realizing a karmic attainment. The young monk was completely baffled. He had clearly caused the deaths of so many people—where had all that resentment and karma gone?
Amid echoing laughter, Wei Yuan strode away with his dharma body cleansed by the bodhi tree, leaving the young monk standing bewildered in the wind.
Chapter 273