Lu Chonglou, hearing those words, couldn’t help but look at Xu Ji a beat longer.
Yet Xu Ji’s face remained that same warm, affable expression. The smile looked entirely genuine — the gentle concern of a senior for a junior. Nothing in his face suggested anything cold or calculating.
Seeing Lu Chonglou silent, Xu Ji said gently: “You understand — the campaign in Shu Province is urgent. The lord and his soldiers cannot afford to go without grain.”
Lu Chonglou was quiet for a moment, then clasped his hands. “Military Governor, rest easy. I will deliver the grain to Shu Province on time.”
Xu Ji’s smile grew even warmer. He placed a hand on Lu Chonglou’s shoulder. “The lord says you’re a rare talent, and I can see it myself — your gifts exceed mine. That’s precisely why I’m entrusting the grain transport to you. And when you arrive in Shu Province, if the lord sees you there, he’ll surely be pleased.”
These words sounded, on the surface, almost reasonable.
But in Lu Chonglou’s heart, something deepened into disgust.
Xu Ji had just used an iron fist to force those regional officials into mobilizing grain supplies. No — *force* was too gentle a word. He’d coerced them. This wouldn’t reach the lord’s ears now, but eventually it would.
And if Lu Chonglou died on the road, Xu Ji could pin all the blame on him. By the time Li Chi investigated, all of Yue Province would already be Xu Ji’s people, speaking with one voice. The regional officials he disliked would all have been replaced in one sweep. Yue Province would be Xu Ji’s to rule alone.
He had already ruled Ji Province like that. Now he was doing it here in Yue Province. And this wasn’t just a matter of his temperament.
A man of Xu Ji’s caliber doesn’t operate without purpose. He wouldn’t do all of this simply to make people fear him.
Xu Ji was laying groundwork in Ji Province, laying groundwork in Yue Province — and would lay groundwork elsewhere in the future. All of it was preparation for something he intended to seek later.
His ambitions didn’t stop at being a regional military governor.
The only real threat Xu Ji faced in Yue Province was Lu Chonglou. If Lu Chonglou remained alive, his arrangements here might be discovered by the Ning Wang prematurely.
And the Ning Wang — when he paid no attention to a matter, he seemed warm and gentle; anyone around him felt at ease. But Xu Ji knew perfectly well: the moment the Ning Wang decided to act, decided to deal with someone, it would come down like thunder.
So Lu Chonglou had to die. And absolutely not inside Yue Province’s borders.
The grain escort would travel a great distance. Accidents on the road were natural. And Xu Ji had already arranged things so that no trail would lead back to him, no matter how the matter was investigated.
After Lu Chonglou left, Xu Ji returned to his study, sat down, and let out a long, satisfied breath — not the exhalation of someone carrying a burden, but the exhalation of someone who felt at ease.
The plan was roughly two-thirds complete. Once Lu Chonglou died on the road, it would be nearly finished.
There was another reason Lu Chonglou had to die.
Xu Ji suspected — and the suspicion had grown — that Lu Chonglou had been sent to Yue Province by the Ning Wang as a watcher.
Xu Ji was by nature deeply suspicious, and he knew that once suspicion took root, it was nearly impossible to uproot.
He had made a mistake in Yu Province — had secretly communicated with agents of the Heavenly Mandate King Yang Xuanji. If that ever came to light, the Ning Wang would have reason to kill him ten times over.
So Xu Ji had come to believe that his transgression in Yu Province was like a thorn in the Ning Wang’s heart — and that Lu Chonglou had been sent to watch him because of it.
What he had failed to notice was that whether it was actually a thorn in the Ning Wang’s heart was uncertain — but it was very much a thorn in *his own*.
He had followed the Ning Wang for many years and knew his style well. Toward those who had dealings with the enemy, the Ning Wang had not a trace of tolerance.
At the time, the Yu Province matter had been covered over by his contribution in helping a hundred thousand laborers disguise themselves as Ning Army soldiers to relieve Ji Province — and he’d done it with the help of Jingya Xiansheng. But that concealment had worked only because of the unique circumstances of that moment. The Ning Wang’s failure to reward him then was itself a sign that something else was turning over in the lord’s mind.
The thorn had been lodged in Xu Ji’s heart too long, too deep. Others might not be thinking about it anymore — but he could never let it go.
A man who has done wrong always seeks endless means to keep the secret buried, to prevent anyone from ever knowing.
Yet when suspicion reaches its extreme, he finds himself always believing that sooner or later he’ll be killed anyway.
And so, in the years since, Xu Ji’s behavior had been: *be visibly useful, make the Ning Wang see how much you need me.*
Now, sitting in his study, Xu Ji reviewed the full arc of his plan and satisfied himself that he had built a sufficient foundation. He allowed himself another quiet, easy breath.
Just then, there was a soft voice outside the door — he recognized it as his trusted aide Xu Huanzhi. He called for the man to enter.
Xu Huanzhi had been with Xu Ji since Yu Province, and their relationship was close — almost like family. They had studied together in Yan Province, under the same teacher, and Xu Ji thought of him as a junior classmate.
After Xu Ji entered officialdom, Xu Huanzhi had sought him out upon hearing the news and attached himself to him. In a certain sense, the two men were mirror images. Both young — both known from childhood as prodigies, celebrated for their brilliance. Both possessed of endless calculation, both devoted to reading the hearts of others.
Between two such men, there was always a great deal of unspoken understanding.
Xu Ji had given Xu Huanzhi great responsibilities; Xu Huanzhi had since been elevated to Administrator of Yue Province’s provincial capital — now serving as the Prefectural Administrator of Yue Province itself.
“Sir,” Xu Huanzhi said, bowing as he entered. “All the regional officials rushed off without staying for lunch.”
Xu Ji couldn’t help but laugh. The deadlines he’d set were nearly airtight — even with the buffer factored in, wasting a single day would eat through it. Who would dare linger for a meal?
“Our people,” Xu Huanzhi continued, “received advance notice from you, so there’ll be no problem on our end. The grain was prepared long in advance.”
“As for the other officials — I’ll have some of our men go and create a few small delays. They’ll miss your deadline easily enough.”
Xu Ji smiled. “You’ve always been reliable. I’ve always felt easy when you handle things.”
Xu Huanzhi bowed. “It’s all the Governor’s guidance and teaching. Without the Governor’s instruction, I’d be capable of nothing.”
“Sit down,” Xu Ji said. “Enough of these pleasantries.”
He had no idea that his own manner — his turns of phrase, his bearing — had, without his realizing it, slowly come to mirror Li Chi’s. Perhaps on some level he did know, and simply refused to acknowledge it. He had convinced even himself that this was his own natural character.
“After this affair is settled, sir,” Xu Huanzhi said, “the placements in Yue Province will be essentially complete. Even if we can’t make every single position ours, seven or eight out of ten is more than enough.”
“When the lord declares himself Emperor in the future, the hundreds of regional officials across the provinces — if they petition collectively to recommend the Governor as the new dynasty’s first Chancellor, the Ning Wang will have to seriously consider it.”
Xu Ji laughed at this.
He knew who was best suited to be the Chancellor of the new dynasty. In the Ning Wang’s heart, there was perhaps only one name: Yan Qingzhi.
What Xu Ji did not know was that Li Chi had no intention of establishing a Chancellor at all. If he had known, his composure would have cracked.
But he did know that the Ning Wang had promised Yan Qingzhi: once the great work was done, he would agree to let Yan Qingzhi return to Ji Province. In Xu Ji’s view, Yan Qingzhi was a man without great ambition — always thinking about retirement, about finding a small corner of the world to grow vegetables. Such a man posed no real competition.
Besides Yan Qingzhi, there were currently two others with the standing to contend for the Chancellor’s position.
One was Master Wu, the current Military Governor of Qing Province. But Xu Ji had analyzed the signs and concluded that Wu Naiyu was also without great ambition. Once the realm was at peace, Wu Naiyu would, with nine chances in ten, retire quietly to enjoy a pastoral life with his beautiful wife.
The other was Lu Chonglou.
Lu Chonglou hadn’t followed the Ning Wang long, so he had no record of prior achievement and no standing or renown. A newcomer — his chances of becoming Chancellor were far lower than Xu Ji’s.
But the man was terrifying. He had a governing talent, a talent for bringing order to the world — a talent that even Xu Ji envied.
When Lu Chonglou’s policy on people’s livelihoods came out, the Ning Wang had praised it enormously and promoted Li Changlu through exceptional channels. Exceptional promotion — once it happens once, it can happen again.
So Xu Ji would not allow Lu Chonglou to live much longer. With this man alive, he had no peace.
“Not long from now,” Xu Huanzhi said with a smile, “you will be the one below the lord and above ten thousand.”
Xu Ji laughed heartily.
He looked at Xu Huanzhi and said: “Rest easy. If I come to hold power in the court, I won’t forget your loyalty.”
Xu Huanzhi immediately rose and knelt. “Your honor’s kindness to me — I will never forget it, not for a lifetime.”
He looked up, face earnest: “Your honor, there is something I’ve long wished to request but haven’t dared. Today — I can no longer hold it back.”
“What is it?”
“I wish to formally become your disciple,” Xu Huanzhi said. “If you consent, I will be your student, and you my teacher.”
Xu Ji laughed. “How can that be — we studied under the same master…”
Before he could finish, Xu Huanzhi said with great sincerity: “You *are* my true teacher. These years, it has been you who taught me everything — in matters of action and of character alike. Your care for me has been like a father’s.”
Xu Ji said: “There’s no rush for this. I know your intentions — that’s enough for now. We can discuss it later.”
He rose, walked to the door, and stood there with his hands clasped behind his back.
“The pressing thing now is to stabilize Yue Province as quickly as possible. And — the man you’ve arranged to deal with Lu Chonglou. Can he be trusted?”
Xu Huanzhi: “Rest assured. There will be no evidence that Lu Chonglou was killed. The person I found can make it look entirely natural, beyond any suspicion.”
Xu Ji let out a slow, quiet breath. “Then prepare. Lu Chonglou will be setting out for Shu Province within a month.”
He looked back at Xu Huanzhi: “Remember one thing — Lu Chonglou must not die inside Yue Province’s borders.”
“Understood!”
Xu Huanzhi bowed deeply.
—