81: Night Without a Trace

Cheng Rongrong covered her mouth and chuckled lightly, looking at Qin Chen and asking, "Are you a student of the Literary Academy?"

"The Literary Academy? They are merely a bunch of pedantic scholars, unworthy of my attention." Qin Chen raised his head, his tone carrying a hint of disdain.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" Cheng Rongrong pressed him with interest.

Qin Chen looked at a child begging on the street and said faintly:

"Those people read until their spines become soft. They only see the golden houses in books, but not the piles of white bones outside."

"They bury their heads in the Sages' books all day, spouting benevolent governance, loving the people, and Great Harmony under Heaven. When they write essays, they spew saliva, churning out thousands of policy essays, every word a pearl, every sentence a splendor."

"They curse the County Magistrate after cursing the Prefect, thunder rolling beneath their pens, yet they won't move an inch. In the end, it's always the people on paper who suffer."

"Now, Martial Artists run rampant, human traffickers chain children and sell them, and the starved in the slums freeze into ice sculptures, yet those scholars won't even move their inkstone an inch."

"After all, writing a disaster relief policy essay to receive an award from the Hanlin Academy is much more respectable than actually going to provide disaster relief."

Cheng Rongrong's expression grew serious, and she said, "But ultimately, they are just a group of weak scholars. With so much suffering in the world, how can they change it?"

Qin Chen poured himself a cup of tea, drained it in one gulp, and slowly said:

"When Martial Artists crawl out of their mothers' wombs, do they already know how to wield a sword and kill?"

"If the Son of Heaven breaking the law is treated the same as a commoner, and Martial Artists breaking the law are treated equally, which Martial Artist would dare to oppose the world?"

"If this generation of scholars is willing to plant their bones in the soil, the next generation of Martial Artists will find 'Uprooting the Strong and Supporting the Weak' more natural and righteous than 'The Strong Prey on the Weak'!"

"What Martial Artists temper are their muscles and bones; what scholars should forge are their souls."

"If even those who hold the pen kneel, then this world will truly only be left with man-eating blades."

Before Qin Chen could finish, Yaoer, who was beside them, suddenly spoke solemnly, "I apologize, I shouldn't have called you a lecher just now."

Qin Chen smiled. "No worries. Actually, I suppose I really am a lecher."

Cheng Rongrong nodded, admiration in her eyes. "Young Master's insights are profound; I am truly impressed."

She suddenly asked, "May I ask where Young Master is from? And what are your aspirations?"

This question stumped Qin Chen.

His true goal was Heaven-Defying Immortal Slaying and invincible longevity.

But if he said that, Cheng Rongrong would inevitably think he was aiming too high.

He vaguely sensed that Cheng Rongrong appreciated down-to-earth people more.

So he feigned melancholy and said, "To tell you the truth, Young Miss, I just arrived in the Imperial Capital penniless, and I was looking for a job here at Wangyue Tower."

Cheng Rongrong smiled slightly. "After you settle down, have you considered joining the Literary Academy?"

Qin Chen shook his head. "I am not skilled in literature, only in martial arts."

This was the truth—all those terms and poems he used were borrowed from the ancients of "Blue Star" to show off.

"With such insight, why belittle yourself? Could it be that your Martial Dao is stronger?" Cheng Rongrong asked, smiling.

Yaoer interjected, "You look so frail and scholarly; I doubt you've even reached Acquired Perfection, right?"

Qin Chen just smiled and didn't answer.

When he didn't fight, he truly looked like a frail scholar.

Then, he couldn't help but start "performing" again, lecturing on a heap of grand principles for governing the world.

Such as the four sentences of hengqu, the seven policies for governing the nation, the Treatise on the World, and so on—

Abolishing slavery, reducing punishments, lightening taxes, encouraging agriculture, promoting education, purifying officialdom... In front of a beauty, he always felt the urge to show off. Perhaps this was the nature of a profligate.

Every word he spoke stirred waves in Cheng Rongrong's heart, leaving her unsettled for a long time.

She sat quietly opposite him, like a student listening attentively, becoming more engrossed the more she listened.

Looking at him, light gradually appeared in Cheng Rongrong's eyes. The more she looked, the more she felt—they had met too late.

Unconsciously, the sky had grown dark.

"I didn't realize time passed so quickly!" she sighed softly, gazing at the scattered stars in the sky.

Yaoer also reminded her, "Young Miss, it's time to go back."

Cheng Rongrong looked at Qin Chen. "Young Master Qin, why don't you stay here at Wangyue Tower for now? I've reserved this private room for you for a year. Just settle in comfortably."

"That's too embarrassing. If word gets out, people will think I'm your kept gigolo," Qin Chen said with a cheeky smile, his skin incredibly thick.

Once a woman is willing to actively give, it means the first step has succeeded.

Naturally, he wouldn't refuse such a good opportunity.

Cheng Rongrong simply smiled, then bid farewell and left.

A moment later, only Qin Chen was left in the room, and a feeling of loneliness welled up in his heart again.

He thought of Fragrant Lord Qiao; he needed her to come to the Imperial Capital as soon as possible.

But he currently dared not step within a thousand miles of Nanjiang City. If the Female God of Slaughter noticed anything unusual, it would be troublesome.

Although he knew Cultivators wouldn't needlessly spread their Divine Sense to probe—as that consumed too much mental energy—he still didn't dare to take the risk.

He had to find a way to notify Fragrant Lord Qiao.

Currently, he had no subordinates, making it truly inconvenient to handle matters.

He suddenly recalled a place and a person—the Vermilion Bird Tower, and its Tower Lord, Ye Wuhen.

So he activated the Illusionary Form Technique, transformed into the appearance of an old man, and silently headed to the Vermilion Bird Tower.

On the balcony of the Vermilion Bird Tower's top floor, Ye Wuhen was sitting alone in a private seat drinking tea, looking thoughtful.

Suddenly—

A figure descended like a stream of light, sitting steadily across from him and smiling as he looked over.

Ye Wuhen immediately grew tense.

The old man before him had a composed demeanor and appeared unfathomable.

"Your Excellency arrived uninvited, what instruction do you have for me?" he asked cautiously.

"Little Ye, don't be nervous. This old man is just here to discuss something with you." Qin Chen deliberately made his voice sound ancient and deep.

These words allowed Ye Wuhen to relax slightly. He calmly asked, "What is it?"

"This old man appreciates talent, so I personally came to invite you to join the Fengyun Pavilion," Qin Chen said with a smile.

"There are so many Grandmasters in the Imperial Capital, Senior, why did you specifically seek me out?" Ye Wuhen cautiously countered.

Hearing Ye Wuhen's words, Qin Chen couldn't help but sigh with emotion.

The weak often truly have no choice when facing the strong.

Just like he was targeted by the Golden Phoenix God of Slaughter, Ye Wuhen was now targeted by him.

But Qin Chen had no time to waste words, so he said coldly, "You only have two choices: submit, or die."

Hearing this, Ye Wuhen's face immediately darkened like water.

He suddenly stood up and leaped, intending to jump off the tower and flee.

However, how could a Grandmaster escape in front of Qin Chen?

Qin Chen casually grabbed, and his mighty True Essence condensed into a giant claw, easily snatching Ye Wuhen back.

Ye Wuhen was terrified, his face pale and cold sweat pouring out. He quickly shouted, "Senior, spare my life! I agree, I agree!"

Qin Chen shook his head helplessly. "Little Ye, joining my Fengyun Pavilion has only benefits and no drawbacks. For example... allowing you to become a Great Grandmaster."

"Becoming a Great Grandmaster?" Ye Wuhen gave a bitter laugh. "Senior, do you know that breaking through to the Great Grandmaster realm has two major difficulties?"

"Two major difficulties? Isn't it just a matter of one realm breaking pill?" Qin Chen asked curiously.

"With Senior present, the realm breaking pill might not be a problem," Ye Wuhen said faintly.

Pausing, he continued, "But even if I break through to Great Grandmaster, the entire Yan Dynasty is filled with Imperial City Guard spies, and I probably wouldn't live long."

"There was once a Grandmaster who obtained a realm breaking pill through some channel, and he was assassinated right after his Breakthrough."

"Not only that, but the Alchemy Grandmaster who gave him the Medicinal Pill was also executed."

After hearing Ye Wuhen's account, Qin Chen immediately understood.

The Imperial City Guard's agents were impossible to guard against—during his second simulation, he was once deceived by a young spy named "Qing'er," who was only a few years old.

Moreover, there were inherently few Alchemy Grandmasters capable of refining the realm breaking pill, and all of them were under strict surveillance.

Furthermore, the medicinal materials required to refine the realm breaking pill were also subject to extremely strict control.