Chapter 104: The Jealousy of Spirits—Dual Cultivation in the Third Class Costs Half a Life

Wang Cheng looked up to find that behind a completely collapsed courtyard wall, the Commander of the Imperial Guard—who had just reduced a third-rank ghost deity to ashes with a mere wave of his hand—was watching him.

Giving Yun Xiao a look to reassure her, he hurried over, cupped his hands in a salute, and announced his identity: "Your subordinate, Wang Fugui, Centurion of the Baoshan Thousand-Man Garrison, pays his respects to Commander Lu."

Lu Yi used his "Xiezhi Dharma Eyes" to size up the "Wang Fugui" before him. The hallmarks of an official—the status of a scholar, the rank of a centurion, and the aura of officialdom—could naturally not escape the eyes of a "Martial Judge." But beyond that, he faintly perceived a dense, clear light of accumulated merit surrounding Wang Cheng. Based on Lu Yi’s years of experience in handling cases, this man had saved at least thousands of lives or performed good deeds of equivalent magnitude. His initial impression was quite favorable. After all, whether good or bad, everyone prefers to deal with someone who is kind, trustworthy, and righteous—at the very least, one is less likely to be stabbed in the back.

Originally intending to simply press-gang some men as a matter of routine, Lu Yi found himself making an uncharacteristic remark: "The Imperial Court has known for quite some time that the twenty-four coastal garrisons have crumbled. Desertion among the military households is rampant, and many officials and generals have become major landowners by encroaching on garrison farmland. This 'Minzhou Rebellion Case' and the 'Gentry Collusion with Wokou Pirates to Raid Yuegang' have sent the Emperor into a dragon-fury. I had originally intended to suggest that His Majesty replace the garrison system entirely with a mercenary system to defend against the pirates. Seeing a garrison centurion like you today makes me realize my own shortsightedness. Perhaps the performance of the Citong Garrison troops today does not represent the entirety of the twenty-four coastal garrisons."

Wang Cheng replied with superficial modesty, "This subordinate is ashamed." But inwardly, he muttered: *Actually, you're right. The Citong Garrison can at least scrape together a force of the old, the weak, and the disabled. The military households of the Baoshan Thousand-Man Garrison scattered over twenty years ago when the historical dregs erupted. Sister Xiao told me that the Thousand-Man Commander and most of the officials died on the spot—otherwise, where would Yuegang have come from? If you, my superior, were to inspect it, you wouldn't even find where the camp used to be.*

Wang Cheng kept this to himself, but Lu Yi was now interested and asked further: "Now that the Jinghai King has returned to his divine throne, the Wokou raiding Yuegang are merely a minor irritation; the surging masses of the East Sea pirate confederacy are the real threat. The Imperial Court intends to draw from the elite of the twenty-four garrisons to rebuild the coastal defenses, and a plan will be finalized by mid-February. How many soldiers and warships does your Baoshan Garrison have left? And what is their combat capability?"

"This..." Wang Cheng, backed by the intelligence network of the Mountain and Sea Society and hoping to leverage this force to reclaim the remnants of the Five Peaks Flag, knew more about these details than most garrison commanders. Having the opportunity to probe the thoughts of this close confidant of the Emperor was immensely helpful to his own plans to snatch chestnuts from the fire. Unfortunately, the truth was not pleasant to hear.

Noticing Wang Cheng's hesitation, Lu Yi waved his hand: "This is just a private chat; speak freely. I have seen the true state of many garrisons these days and am prepared for the worst. No matter how bad the situation is, I will not be angry."

Wang Cheng’s [Rare Commodity] ability could not see through this fourth-rank Martial Judge, but it did reveal his straightforward personality. He stopped trying to save face for the local officials he already despised: "Commander Lu, the Baoshan Garrison belongs to the Zhenhai Garrison, one of the four great garrisons of the Great Zhao. During the reign of the Founding Emperor, the Zhenhai Garrison was formidable, acting as the primary barrier against pirates, evil spirits, and various sea monsters. A single garrison had nearly 6,000 men and dozens of five-hundred-picul warships. Beyond the garrison city itself, it oversaw four Thousand-Man Garrisons: from north to south, these were Baoshan, Lu'ao, Tongshan, and Xuanzhong. However, twenty years ago, Baoshan became the merchant-filled Yuegang; over ten years ago, Xuanzhong became the pirate-infested Meiling... Now, you ask how much real combat power we have?"

Wang Cheng silently held up one finger. Even with Lu Yi’s preparation, his expression turned grim. Forcing down his anger, he spoke in a low voice, stating a number that neared his psychological limit:

"Don't tell me that between the four Thousand-Man Garrisons, you only have one thousand men left?"

Wang Cheng cruelly corrected him: "Add the Zhenhai Garrison command city, the servants of the Commanders, Vice-Commanders, and Thousand-Man Commanders, and you might just scrape together a thousand people! As for this centurion, I don't actually have a single soldier or a single ship. You know, since the Jinghai King pacified the borders for three years, there has been peace in the East Sea, and the entire Zhenhai Garrison has been spending its days in brothels listening to music. I suspect they haven't been shy about reaching out to the Imperial Court for military pay, have they? Using the excuse of 'defending against the Jinghai King'?"

Lu Yi’s face was ashen. He was already burning with rage, and this felt like a dagger to the chest. He wanted to ask, *If you know so much, why not report it to the authorities?* But seeing Wang Cheng’s status as a scholar, he remembered that he had already abandoned his official post to live away from home and take the examinations; what more could be expected? Not colluding with the others already made him a remarkably good official. How could one expect everyone in the Great Zhao court to be a paragon of integrity? If everyone were that stubborn, the Great Zhao court might collapse, and the current Emperor—obsessed with alchemy—would likely be the first to perish. When the interests of the Emperor and the nation are not aligned, it is easy to see how difficult it is to lead a team when hearts are scattered.

"Third Uncle, shouldn't we start handling the assets of the Pu family? *Cough, cough...*"

At this moment, a young man wearing the thousand-man robe of the White Scale Guard, no more than two years older than Wang Cheng, led a convoy from the direction of the harbor at the end of the long street to the gates of the Pu ancestral mansion. He spoke with a thick, authentic Beijing accent. Before the carriage had even come to a complete stop, he leaped off, bowed casually to Lu Yi, and lifted the wine flask at his waist for a swig. He had barely swallowed before he started coughing, and then... vomiting blood. Bizarrely, neither he nor Lu Yi seemed at all bothered, as if they were perfectly accustomed to it.

"Is this officer injured? Should he not see a physician before continuing with the Imperial mission?" Wang Cheng could not help but ask. *He’s working so hard; the Lu family truly deserves their favor. If they couldn't make it to the top with this level of dedication, it would be an injustice to Heaven.*

"It’s nothing. This is my nephew, Lu Yunchen, a Thousand-Man Commander of the White Scale Guard. He’s always like this. If the Imperial coastal defense plan is enacted, he might come to your Zhenhai Garrison for training; perhaps you will have the chance to work together. Just follow him when we confiscate the property later." Lu Yi, in a foul mood, waved them away. "Yunchen, this is Centurion Wang Fugui of the Baoshan Thousand-Man Garrison. Take him inside and help."

"Yes, Commander Lu." Hearing the name Lu Yunchen, Wang Cheng realized this was the deputy who had just assisted Lu Yi in firing the "Five Thunders Strike" from the ship. Despite his pale, gaunt appearance, premature graying hair, and the rusty, loosely hanging longsword at his waist, he was surely a ruthless character with genuine skill—not some spoiled second-generation heir—and could not be taken lightly. Yet, watching this superior drink and vomit blood simultaneously, Wang Cheng seriously doubted it would be a surprise if he suddenly dropped dead on the spot.

As he followed him toward the courtyard, he curiously cast his [Rare Commodity] ability. After seeing the intelligence, he exclaimed inwardly: *Good heavens!* Before seeing it, he thought: *What's the situation? Why does he look like he's dying?* After seeing it, he thought: *He's still alive? Human vitality is truly tenacious!*

[Rare Commodity: Lu Yunchen, 20 years old, Thousand-Man Commander of the White Scale Guard. Born into a prominent family, his grandfather is a milk-brother to the Lord of the State, raised on the same milk. As the eldest grandson of the Lu family, he has been favored by the Lord of the State and the national destiny since childhood. He possesses a noble fate: the "Three Oddities Noble Pattern," a collective term for the "Heaven, Earth, and Human" Three Oddities. Those born with this fate are destined to be guests of the Emperor—like Yi Yin to Shang Tang, Jiang Ziya to King Wen, Zhang Liang to the Gaozu Emperor, and Dao Yan to the Taizong Emperor. With this pattern, the host is bound to have extraordinary breadth of mind, a penchant for the grand, and profound erudition.

Lu Yunchen was highly gifted from childhood, recognizing a thousand characters at three, reciting Tang poetry at five, and mastering the Four Books and Five Classics at seven; he ignited his "Heart Lamp" at the mere age of eight. By chance, he holds three positions: Sixth-rank Heavenly official 'Shenxiao Daoist', Sixth-rank Earthly official 'Sword Knight', and Sixth-rank Water official 'Water-Parting General', becoming one of the rare few in history capable of gathering the three elements of Heaven, Earth, and Water. The three positions progressed in tandem, and before twenty, he entered the middle three ranks, once defeating a fifth-rank enemy while in a weaker state. Both the Lord of the State and the Imperial Astronomer consider him heaven-sent. However, the price is heavy, bearing the negative destiny: 'Ghost-God Jealousy!' The world divides the three officials into three, each holding a corner of destiny; Heaven does not allow such a formidable existence, and even the ghosts and gods envy his talent. Ghost-Gods are jealous, half his life is gone, his days are numbered, and he is fated to have no heirs.]

*The main motive for predecessors wanting to hold multiple positions is that their base rank is too low and lacks potential. For example, a [Night Fragrance Officer]—even if he becomes a hegemon—is merely a 'dung tycoon'; a Heavenly official would find it repulsive to even step on him. The most feasible way is to randomly combine them to produce a new, more potential-filled official position... The more positions one holds, the closer to the Dao one is. Based on this, people in history have constantly tried to multitask to forge a new path.*

*My master chose the Star-Tracking Official and the Courtier, and has yet to succeed. I chose the White Water Official and the Courtier, which I will only complete at the end of the month, needing further observation. We are still conservative; both occupations are of the Water class, worshipping only one Water Official, and taking only one strand of [Heaven-Born Water Golden Toad Qi]. This Commander Lu is exceptionally perverse—clearly, there is a golden path before him, yet he seeks death, choosing the Shenxiao Daoist, Sword Knight, and Water-Parting General, taking the Daoist Qi of all three officials to refine his methods. Is this a destiny a human can withstand? That he isn't dead yet only proves that this 'Three Oddities Noble Pattern' of his is a genius! Commander Lu, your fate is much tougher than Commander Zuo's. If he had only walked the Heavenly path, with his family background, he might have hoped for the first rank. What a pity, what a pity...*

Lu Yunchen keenly sensed the pity in Wang Cheng’s gaze. Thinking he was worried about his illness, he took another drink and said quite freely: "Brother Fugui, don't you worry about me! You ordinary people can't understand the troubles of a genius like me, nor can you touch the threshold. Don't look at my third uncle taking over the old man's mantle and becoming a fourth-rank official in his thirties. If I could live to his age, just point at him—I’d let him use one hand and one leg, while I stood perfectly still! Do you believe me?"

Having said this, he began to cough violently again, covering his mouth with a handkerchief and catching all the blood so as not to stain the ground. He was quite conscientious. Realizing his tone might be provocative, he dialed it back slightly. "See, you'll get used to it."

What could Wang Cheng say? He immediately replied: "I believe it! I believe it!"

As they walked to the inner courtyard, the guarding soldiers requested that all artifacts, such as Qiankun bags, be left outside to avoid misunderstandings.

"Don't worry. When our White Scale Guard confiscates property, the treatment is quite good. We aren't like those petty clerks guarding the treasury who make you pull down your pants and check every time you enter and leave, so..." Lu Yunchen gave Wang Cheng a look that said *you know*.

When they come out, they only check if there is anything hidden in the clothes; other places are treated with one eye open and one eye closed. You can bring a little something—bringing just a tiny bit is fine. How much could one really smuggle this way? If the brothers only go this far, even the Emperor himself would be too embarrassed to pursue it further.

"This subordinate understands." Wang Cheng followed the custom, deciding to do as the locals do and take advantage of the White Scale Guard—that organization of violence—by deciding to bring back just a *tiny* bit.