Following the arrival of the fourth month, the heavens wept ceaselessly. Because Emperor Yuanchen had personally led the army on the expedition, the avenue, only recently paved with yellow earth, was now deeply rutted and impossibly muddy.

The Fanyun Che remained unaffected, but the plight of the ordinary carriages was dire.

And as they neared the ten-li radius of the Imperial Capital, the streets on both sides were choked with refugees. Most were clad in rags, their faces sallow and gaunt, desperate with hunger.

"How have the refugees increased so much again? Why don't those powerful households come out to hand out porridge?"

On the prisoner cart, Zhang Li, the Ninth-Rank Criminal Ministry Inspector responsible for escorting the prisoners, stared ahead in shock.

What he saw was nothing short of a human hellscape.

"What else can be done? Nearly everyone in the court claims this is the age of the Great Shang's resurgence, and Emperor Yuanchen is a sagely ruler for the ages. The nation is currently filled with music and peace, and the people live and work in contentment. Which family would be foolish enough to come outside the city walls to distribute porridge? Wouldn't that make His Majesty lose face? To offer aid to these jobless wretches during what is supposedly a rare age of good governance—aren't they afraid of being accused of harboring ulterior motives? Even if His Majesty overlooks it, the charge of winning the hearts of the populace is one that those great houses fear they cannot bear."

The voice carried from the small cage behind him, dripping with mockery.

Zhang Li’s facial muscles twitched, and he glanced behind him. There sat a stout man in the prisoner cart. Even as a condemned prisoner, his face was ruddy and full, and he was currently sneering.

"Benevolent governance ceases, yet the people under his rule suffer terribly, all while he wages war against other nations under the guise of rectifying their wrongs. How long can this military provisioning last? A month's campaign by ten million soldiers, and who knows how many more desperate souls this world will generate!"

Zhang Li listened, letting out a bitter smile. If anyone else had overheard these words, what would have happened?

He was merely a Ninth-Rank Inspector; how could he possibly shoulder such responsibility?

He wanted to clamp Jin Buhui’s mouth shut, but he knew this man’s background was unshakeably solid. Even in his current predicament, he was not someone Zhang Li could afford to offend.

"Lord Jin! Please speak with caution!"

But Jin Buhui was clearly not finished, taking no notice, and continued pouring forth: "Millions of refugees are gathered near the Imperial Capital, yet His Majesty remains utterly oblivious. No, not oblivious—perhaps he sees but pretends not to, clearly aware, yet feigning ignorance—"

"The nation's granaries and treasuries have been almost entirely embezzled by those officials, leaving barely two-tenths of what is on the books. His Majesty believes things are still as they were when he first ascended the throne, reforming the bureaucracy. He fears heavenly mandate, dreads losing the support of the scholars, and fears chaos erupting across the land. Yet, the more he worries, the more he loses."

"The Great Shang's total military strength numbers over forty-seven million, yet at least forty percent of all interior troops are ghost figures. And the eighteen million soldiers sent to conquer the Southern Border are mostly drawn from the elite border garrisons. If they win, it is well and good, but if they lose, how can this vast dynasty maintain itself?"

"Military treatises state that before a battle, one must first consider defeat before contemplating victory. To stake everything like this, regardless of the consequences—is it that I, Jin Buhui, cannot comprehend, or is His Majesty insane?"

"That Zhu Xi deserves to die! Knowing the nation is tottering, poised like an egg on a precipice, he should be advising His Majesty to recuperate, comfort the displaced, and diligently manage domestic affairs. Instead, driven by personal resentment, he incites the army. What kind of sage is this—"

"Zong Shou rose in arms in his youth, invincible in battle and unconquerable! Now with Kong Yao assisting him, how can he be easily subdued? In the Southern Border, he can simply drag things out, and it will crush the Great Shang! This war is doomed to fail, utterly doomed! If the Great Shang wins, then gouge out my eyes, Jin Buhui's eyes!"

Sentence by sentence, the words were chilling enough to stop the heart. Beside the prisoner cart, several Criminal Ministry constables had faces as pale as paper.

Every single one of these statements bordered on treason. If word got out, perhaps even they would be implicated.

Jin Buhui suddenly stopped speaking and looked upward. A streak of sword light was flying towards them from a distance.

"Senior Brother Su Chen?"

A figure in a blue robe stood atop the sword light. It was Su Chen of the Cold Mountain Sect, his brow deeply furrowed, looking at Jin Buhui with complex emotions in his eyes.

Seeing him, Jin Buhui smiled faintly. "Did Master send you to find me?"

"Your Master sent me to rescue you, to escape as far as possible!"

Su Chen sighed softly. "Their positions make it inconvenient for them to act directly, so they had to notify me. Your Master regrets letting you leave the mountain to enter the bureaucracy of the Great Shang, thinking your cunning nature was best suited for officialdom, but he never expected this outcome. Your temperament, Jin Buhui, is unexpectedly soft outwardly yet firm within."

"I never expected it myself!"

Jin Buhui shook his head slightly, his face filled with self-mockery. "Every time I try to turn a blind eye, I recall Master’s teachings from my youth. Though I don't read much, this noble righteousness in my chest simply cannot be erased. What is to be done?"

"Noble righteousness? You certainly know how to boast."

Su Chen laughed, shaking his head, then spoke gravely: "Do you know you are seeking death? The Great Shang launched the southern campaign under the decree of Scholar Zhu; the entire world sings its praises, lauding Emperor Yuanchen's righteous act. Yet you alone were tactless enough to submit such a memorial. Not only has Emperor Yuanchen been enraged to the point of fury, but even Scholar Zhu, the Sage of your Confucian school, must now resent you. What was the point?"

Since Su Chen's arrival, Zhang Li and the others had been immobilized by the pressure of his sword intent, unable to move or utter a sound.

Hearing this, they were filled with dread. These words, spoken so baldly and without reservation, suggested that this Sword Cultivator named Su had no intention of sparing their lives.

"In other words! His Majesty has already developed the intent to kill me, Jin Buhui? To use my head to appease those noble families and frontier lords?"

Jin Buhui raised his eyebrows slightly, showing no surprise, his expression as calm as ever. "Before submitting that memorial, Buhui had already anticipated this."

"Since you knew, then come with me!"

Su Chen spoke, yet his heart sank slightly, sensing a terrible premonition.

"It is not just your sect; even your sworn brother, Zong Shou, is deeply concerned for your safety. He asked me to relay that great turmoil is imminent in the Great Shang, and it would be best if you extricated yourself early."

"Great turmoil is imminent, extricate myself early?"

Jin Buhui murmured the words, momentarily lost in thought. "He truly has confidence! Since he could unify Donglin within two years, defeating those eighteen million troops should not be a difficult task."

Then, he let out a soft sigh, apologizing. "Forgive me, Senior Brother Su. Allow Jin Buhui one last act of willfulness; I still wish to test this. To see if there is any room for the Great Shang to be salvaged."

Zhang Li, listening from the side, could only complain inwardly. Hearing these two speak, it sounded as if the Great Shang was already hanging by a thread.

But the world only contained some restless rioters causing trouble. A minor ailment; it shouldn't take long to quell it. Why were the two exaggerating it so much?

Su Chen froze for a moment, then his face hardened. "A fine bird chooses its tree! Emperor Yuanchen wronged you first; why must you be buried with the Great Shang? Even if you wish to serve as an official, going to Da Qian would be far better."

After ten years of ups and downs, Su Chen was a core figure in the Sword Sect, the future Sect Master of the Cold Mountain Sect.

Naturally, he knew that the entire Sword Sect was preparing to rely on Da Qian.

Though he didn't know the specifics, he surmised that the higher-ups in the sect must have some assurance for taking such a path.

It was rumored that the sect’s foremost master of divination arts, Venerable Hua Ruo, had glimpsed Zong Shou’s destiny and fortune, leading him to cripple his divine eye ability, losing decades of his lifespan, and subsequently refusing to leave his chamber. His old friend’s fate must be one of indescribable nobility! Perhaps he would become the master of this Divine Land.

"I do this not for the Great Shang! But for the common people of this world."

Jin Buhui shook his head. "If the Great Shang falls into chaos, how many people in the Central Cloud Continent will be displaced, and how many will perish in the ensuing war? Zong Shou is the monarch of Da Qian; he might not care. But Jin Buhui cannot ignore it!"

Knowing Zong Shou’s disposition, as long as his own nation was peaceful, that would suffice. What concern were the lives of citizens in another country to him? Unless he intended to conquer the Central Cloud Continent as well.

Su Chen frowned deeply, about to persuade him further, when his mind suddenly stirred, and his form vanished.

And only a few moments later, a group of richly dressed riders on spirited steeds, escorting dozens of Fanyun Che, burst forth from the city gate, heading in their direction.

As they passed by the prisoner cart, several figures at the forefront of the cavalcade suddenly halted.

"Oh? Isn't this the Censor-in-Chief, Lord Jin Buhui? How did you become a prisoner—"

The speaker was a young man in green, riding a Qilin beast, who was now sneering at the prisoner cart.

"No! It should be former Censor-in-Chief Lord Jin Buhui, demoted to county magistrate two years ago, and today stripped of his scholarly status, equal to a commoner."

At these words, the curtains of the Fanyun Che were lifted one by one. Inside were numerous individuals wearing official robes of the Fifth Rank or higher, or the female relatives of officials.

"So it is him!"

"The one who memorialized urging the reduction of frontier garrisons and the reform of corrupt examination practices."

"This man is ridiculously bold and absurd. He actually dared to submit a memorial criticizing the sovereign and cursing the Sage Zhu of old."

"He claimed Da Qian is politically pure and militarily dominant, and that if our Great Shang campaigns against them, defeat is certain."

"It's said he was friends with that tyrant Zong Shou before entering office, which is why he tried to submit the memorial to stop the war."

"He accepts the ruler’s stipend yet cherishes private sentiment instead of serving his sovereign. It’s fitting that he has met this end!"

Jin Buhui scanned the crowd with an expressionless face. He recognized many of them—they were officials from the same court.

And the speaker was a scion of the Yang family, one of the Great Shang's five great clans. Over a dozen members of the Yang lineage had lost their posts due to his impeachment, many holding high office. It was only natural that they hated him to the bone.

"Are you off for an outing to admire the scenery?"

Jin Buhui shook his head slightly. "The war in the Southern Border is not yet over, there are countless refugees within the country, the national crisis has not passed. And yet you all have the leisure to go sightseeing. How can the Great Shang not lose?"

At these words, everyone’s expression shifted slightly.

"Stop!"

"This—this is nonsense!"

"You speak for the enemy of Confucianism? Treasonous!"

Cries of reprimand rose up, and the young man in green laughed coldly: "The Great Shang's Emperor Yuanchen is wise and divine, leading ten million soldiers to crush the enemy like Mount Tai. A mere Da Qian can be destroyed in a snap. Victory will likely be declared soon enough!"

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