Chapter 141 I am impressed, Deputy Director Jiang, you truly are the idea generator of Great Zhao

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Luo Wenlong and Wang Cheng both recognized the voice as that of Deputy Envoy Jiang Wenyuan from the Qingliu faction. They exchanged a glance, noting the caution in each other's eyes. The former nodded subtly, signaling Wang Cheng to act accordingly, then stepped forward to open the door.

“Lord Luo, Captain Wang, it’s truly fortunate that you are both here,” said Jiang Wenyuan, a Confucian scholar of the Heart Learning school, greeting the chief envoy without any change in expression. When he looked up, he suddenly noticed the two heavy maces in Wang Cheng’s hands and let out a soft exclamation.

“These appear to be the divine weapons once wielded by Prince Chang Yuchun of Kaiping—the ‘Qilin Shangfang Maces’? Were these gifts from Lord Luo to Captain Wang? Captain Wang, you actually know how to wield maces?”

Weapons are meant to be used, and Wang Cheng had no intention of hiding them. He replied simply, “I have some knowledge.” He thought to himself that this scholar did possess some insight. He had relied on rare finds and listening to thunder to locate this treasure in the Luo family’s vault, yet Jiang had recognized it at a glance.

There were many fine maces in the Jinghai Prince’s palace armory, but none suitable for someone of Wang Fugui’s status.

The two bright silver maces Luo Wenlong held were of a simple, archaic design, covered with faintly blue-glowing Qilin patterns—clearly no ordinary weapons.

Jiang Wenyuan clicked his tongue in admiration.

“At the founding of the Great Zhao dynasty, maces worn by generals were called ‘Shangfang Maces’, primarily used for supervising battles and enforcing military discipline. Prince Kaiping was one of the few experts in wielding maces within the army. Legend has it these two ‘Qilin Shangfang Maces’ were forged from meteoric iron he obtained from beyond the heavens and consecrated by a great demon beast of Qilin blood. Though just a pair among many treasured maces he possessed, they are priceless and nearly impossible for outsiders to even glimpse, especially since the Kaiping Prince’s lineage ended with the second generation.

These maces are forged solid through a hundred refinements, the ultimate weapon of war, not easily handled by anyone lacking integrity and unwavering spirit. These maces stand out even among the best. Though Lord Luo is generous, Captain Wang must still exercise great caution.”

None of the three present realized that the first owner of these divine weapons, Prince Kaiping, held an equally significant identity: he was the grandfather of the first Duke Guangze, an “unexpected figure” of the Great Zhao imperial clan, making him an ancestor of the contemporary heir to the Duke Guangze, Han Wugui.

Luo Wenlong sensed the provocation in Deputy Envoy Jiang’s words and frowned, interrupting.

“As the saying goes, ‘divine weapons gifted to heroes.’ Once Captain Wang lands ashore in the Eastern Sea Kingdom to gather intelligence, I could not bear for him to go without protection and thus presented these maces to him. Captain Wang is a youthful prodigy and even composed the line ‘Wielding the blade swiftly, fulfilling youthful ambition.’ How could he not be a man of upright spirit and integrity? A mere pair of inanimate weapons will pose no hindrance to him. These Qilin Shangfang Maces might well blaze anew in his hands, rekindling the invincible glory of Prince Kaiping’s legacy. Perhaps one day he will be a ‘Chang the Ten-Thousand’ who can lead armies of tens of thousands to sweep the world!”

Wang Cheng thought silently that ‘Chang the Ten-Thousand’ was tolerable, as long as he wasn’t ‘Sun the Ten-Thousand’.

Hearing this aspirational verse, Jiang Wenyuan could not help but look at Wang Cheng more intently, then restrained the admiration on his face.

“So Captain Wang is soon to infiltrate the Eastern Sea Kingdom? Perfect timing—I have a task for you as well. Why not complete both simultaneously?”

Unexpectedly, Wang Cheng cupped his hands and straightforwardly declined.

“Deputy Envoy Jiang, before I went undercover in Yingzhou, I made a condition to Inspector Wang Bengu and Commander Xing Baichuan of the Zhenhai Guard (Chapter 120). Upon arrival in Yingzhou, my primary duty shall be intelligence gathering, and I retain full discretion over my movements. I will accept no assignments beyond this. All my actions answer only to General Yu Zhifu.”

He had prepared for the worst and relied on this autonomy to ensure neither the chief nor deputy envoy could undermine him or force him into a deadly trap.

Chief Envoy Luo Wenlong and the captain Li Jingjiang, who had come over on hearing the commotion, both nodded, acknowledging the matter.

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“Captain Wang’s duties are perilous; some autonomy is justified. As long as the intelligence is obtained, we will not interfere further,” Jiang Wenyuan said coolly, aware of the arrangement.

“I must have been abrupt earlier—let me clarify. Captain Wang, since you chart your own course, could you help me with a small favor? There is a rendezvous point within the Eastern Sea Kingdom where an important item must be delivered to Pinghu Port. It’s merely a matter of passing by and won’t cause any complications. Once delivered, you may continue your free operations. Such a simple task should not trouble you, right?”

At the mention of “rendezvous,” Wang Cheng’s interest piqued. He asked with keen curiosity, “Deputy Envoy Jiang, do you mean there are other intelligence agents already in the Eastern Sea Kingdom, carrying out a separate mission?”

Jiang Wenyuan, confident that the Qingliu gentry with years of anti-pirate experience could easily handle the unfamiliar land and people, let slip a bit more information.

“We all serve His Majesty, and the intelligence network against the Wufengqi has long been established. They are the elite scouts ‘Night Watchers’ from the Twenty-Four Guards, known for their distinguished service. Many loyal and brave martyrs have emerged from their ranks, no need for me to elaborate. Upon arrival in Yingzhou, I, as Deputy Envoy, oversee the redeployment of these agents. Their strength is limited, so urgent support from a mid-third-rank officer is required; otherwise, I would not trouble Captain Wang.”

Wang Cheng was naturally curious about their true purpose in the Eastern Sea Kingdom. After a moment’s hesitation, he agreed.

“Very well, I accept the task.”

Jiang Wenyuan cupped his fists.

“Captain Wang, your noble spirit is appreciated on behalf of the ‘Night Watchers’ brothers. I understand the dangers of espionage and, like Inspector Wang Bengu and Commander Xing Baichuan, owe you a life. When you return victorious, we shall drink and celebrate together.”

Though polite in words, he inwardly sneered.

“Heh, such young men are easily deceived. Whether you are truly passionate or merely curious about our plans, as long as you reach the rendezvous point, what happens next is beyond your control. Who says there is only one skilled operative in Yingzhou? Once we lure you there, we will cast a mind-controlling curse, compelling you to obey directions blindly, turning you into a pawn to assassinate the crown prince. Within seven days, the prince will be killed by that binding curse, and you and the envoy will perish with him.”

“Ma Haifeng has promised to personally intervene regardless of the mission’s outcome, aiming to end this farce supported only by the emperor, his sycophantic strict party, and the lowly maritime merchants, before the majority of Eastern Sea pirates arrive!”

Meanwhile, at Pinghu Port, the crown prince was warmly consoling the soldiers of the Black Peak Banner. Behind him, his loyal troops carried baskets filled with silver coins as rewards. Once they accepted this “bribe for survival,” they became slaves to money.

Outwardly still Ma Haifeng’s loyalists, these troops had in fact become the crown prince’s shadows.

Among the troops was a youthful, charming little monk who worked especially hard, uttering auspicious phrases with each handful of coins distributed.

“Receiving the crown prince’s reward, may the lamp of the heart always shine, piercing through ignorance.”

“Receiving the crown prince’s reward, pure and untainted, peaceful and at ease.”

“Receiving the crown prince’s reward, may all Buddhas protect you, and calamities stay away.”

Though the little monk appeared no more than fourteen or fifteen, he was actually the crown prince’s personal military commander, cultivated years in advance by the Jinghai Prince.

They had eaten and lived together during childhood, essentially childhood companions.

Why a monk?

In Yingzhou, Buddhism was the foremost spiritual power, with Shinto ranked second. They owned vast estates, monk soldiers, and could rival local warlords. The aristocracy traditionally sent “monk substitutes” to take their vows. This little monk was both the crown prince’s military commander and his monk substitute, holding the position of Sha Miwei at the nearby Zhaojue Temple.

The role of Sha Miwei required good looks, preferably a rosy-lipped, white-toothed young monk. Even large temples depended on incense offerings, and female devotees who generously donated incense money were the greatest benefactors. The Sha Miwei was specially appointed to entertain such generous female guests, relying solely on charm to solicit donations.

Today, having heard of Wang Cheng’s return, he hurried back with several colorful lipstick marks still on his head from female guests.

His repertoire of auspicious phrases was endless.

After visiting the waterside stronghold, Wang Cheng led the way outward, his eyes flashing as he remarked with admiration:

“Impressive, Deputy Envoy Jiang, you truly are the strategist of Great Zhao. With you, the Qingliu faction has no fear of decline. To think you would compete with me in Yingzhou over who commands more men!”

He turned to his military commander.

“Bald donkey, I’m giving you a rendezvous point. Take your men and go.”

The little monk gave him a sidelong glance, hands pressed together in a gesture of respect.

“Amitabha, please call me Master.”

This little monk’s real name was Lü Lu, and in truth, he was no ordinary man but a donkey spirit—the nickname “bald donkey” was quite fitting.

He hailed from Dong’e County in Shandong, brought to Great Zhao by Zhang Sanshu, also from Shandong’s Dengzhou.

When a monster reaches the fifth rank of “Clay Sculpture Divine Embryo,” it can transmigrate part of its spirit into human form. Lü Lu’s donkey body had long since perished in battle; now he was thoroughly human.

However, when ordained a monk, his master, for convenience, gave him the Dharma name identical to his original name: Jielu, which he disliked, often arguing with Wang Cheng.

“All right, bald donkey.”

“Call me Master.”

“All right, Master Jielu.”

“Better just call me bald donkey.”

“All right, bald donkey.”

After their daily routine of bickering, Wang Cheng chuckled.

“I know you well. Your obsession this life is to no longer be a beast of burden but a revered Master. But can you stop using the ‘donkey-skin appointment trick’ on your brother? No, wait, it’s the ‘human-skin appointment trick.’ My golden mouth isn’t for opening lightly. Just be practical and get to work. Your merit will come sooner or later. Remember, bring me back someone alive.”

The little monk assumed a solemn expression, hands pressed together.

“Amitabha, you know me well. I never kill. I guarantee they’ll stay alive.”

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