Excessive joy and anger harm the body; Meng Qi must restrain himself a bit.
Throughout the dynasties, there have been many cults like the Holy Lotus Sect that beguiled the people and then conspired in rebellion. Even though the Chu Dynasty lasted only thirty-nine years, it was no exception.
Initially, it was just a charlatan, a geomancer, who was quite prestigious within ten or so villages. He gathered many disciples and essentially became a local strongman. These disciples were of mixed quality, mostly illiterate, except for one failed scholar who had some knowledge.
This scholar, in order to marry the only daughter of a prominent family in the neighboring county and acquire a large estate, put considerable effort into posturing, vigorously promoting himself as a celestial being incarnate with a noble destiny.
The scholar not only boasted about himself but also involved his master in the boast. How else could one explain a celestial being becoming someone else’s disciple? The master of a celestial being on Earth surely could not be an ordinary person!
Thus, the geomancer was proclaimed to be the Eastern Supreme Blue Emperor, commonly known as Taiyi the Suffering-Reliever, who came to this world to alleviate disasters and hardships. By then, the geomancer was already dead, and a dead man can’t climb out of his coffin to object.
The exaggeration became so extensive that even his fellow disciples believed it—or perhaps they wanted to believe.
Think about it, if the teacher is an emperor of heaven and the younger brother is a celestial lord, then surely they themselves must be extraordinary! Driven by self-interest, once the scholar deceitfully married that woman, he suddenly found the rumors sliding beyond his control.
His fellow disciples started competing with each other in their claims, and some even gathered many followers, daily preaching the supreme mysterious doctrines of disaster relief. The scale grew larger and larger.
To maintain the lie, in the presence of outsiders, the brothers would meet and ostentatiously discuss heavenly matters, making them increasingly delusional, truly believing they were celestial beings descended to Earth.
Since they were celestial beings, how could they tolerate dissent?
It wasn’t long before they had stirred up great turmoil in the region.
“…When they were apprehended back then, they had already established a religious altar, self-proclaiming as the disciples of Taiyi the Suffering-Reliever, founders of the World-Relief Sect. The sect had even attracted some remnants of defeated forces from the late Chen Dynasty, who had vied for control of the empire. If the authorities had treated them merely as a group of boastful frauds, the consequences would have been unimaginable.”
The long-dead geomancer had never intended to conspire or rebel, nor had the poor scholar who deceived for wealth and marriage considered it. Neither had his confused disciples initially thought of this. But once things start, they often proceed beyond control.
These remnants of power sought a secluded place to slowly expand, attracted by the World-Relief Sect’s influence on the locals. Pretending to be distant relatives of the locals and feigning devotion, they settled there and blended in.
With money and capability, they quickly gained prestige within the sect, vigorously promoting the expansion of the follower base, extending the sect to several nearby counties. The leaders of the sect lived more comfortably and found more opportunities to exploit money, happily embracing the growth.
This continued until a certain year brought natural disasters, or a particularly corrupt local official emerged, presenting an opportunity for uprising.
By the time the frauds realized something was amiss, it was too late to easily back out. If the followers initiated another wave of grand claims, even those bewildered might be desperate enough to act.
Of course, whether they acted in confusion or came to their senses and tried to escape, their end would not be pleasant.
Once used, they were inevitably discarded.
—The leader was assassinated, killed by the government’s men, inciting the followers to fight desperately.
Such incidents have occurred countless times throughout history.
As Meng Qi said, as long as the officials are not utterly negligent, things would not spiral out of control.
“In the laws of the Chu Dynasty, negligence of oversight leads to severe consequences,” Meng Qi frowned, wishing he could punch each and every official on the court. In his view, this was a case of negligence at the top leading to laxity below.
If the people at the top liked to shift responsibilities and delay matters for days while reprimanding their subordinates who brought them troubles, then those below certainly would not seek to stand out.
Since the risk of taking action is greater than not, and it only concerns a group of common folk worshiping gods without causing trouble, there is nothing too serious. Those aware of the situation simply draft a report for their superiors, leaving a record in case they need to defend themselves should any issue arise.
Thus, the village head and community leaders provide cover, the clerks in the yamen turn a blind eye, the district magistrate glosses over the details, the county magistrate doesn’t even thoroughly review the official documents, and the prefect above them is completely unaware of the situation—
Such consecutive layers of neglect, by the time it reaches the capital, even if there are diligent and competent officials and an emperor who meticulously reviews petitions, they can only act as repairmen. They are overwhelmed daily by a host of intractable problems, busily spinning around, yet trouble continues to emerge, each issue more challenging than the last.
One can’t help but wonder, how can such a vast empire resemble a fishing net, full of holes everywhere?
Meng Qi articulates each word slowly: “A dike of a thousand miles, brought down by an ant hole; a hundred-foot room, burnt by smoke through a tiny crack… Now, this empire is like a dike riddled with holes, the sparks through the chimney cracks have already ignited the rafters, just waiting to spread and cause a collapse.”
His voice should carry anger, yet it resonates with a hollow coldness.
Compared to the chaotic and harsh times at the end of the Chen Dynasty, where people were displaced and bones littered the fields with no chickens crowing for miles, the current situation is already much better; people are poor but can survive.
—Yet the seemingly peaceful and stable environment is on the brink of collapse, soon perhaps to turn into ashes of war, a feeling of families destroyed and people perishing that might be even worse than the days of the late Chen Dynasty.
What should be done?
Where to begin the rescue?
Meng Qi feels a sharp pain, his vision darkening.
When he regains consciousness, he finds himself lying in the arms of Mo Li.
His head buried in Doctor Mo’s chest, the state advisor Meng appears dazed.
Ah, it’s a familiar yet strange sensation.
Sand rats often nestle this way, but now as a human, it doesn’t feel as warm and comforting…
Meng Qi shakes his head, still feeling dizzy.
Mo Li reacts swiftly, his hand pressing on Meng Qi’s wrist pulse point, a stream of clear, cool spiritual energy flows into his meridian, rapidly circulating through his body.
Cleared by this spiritual energy, Meng Qi finally exclaims, “Doctor? That’s not right, wasn’t I cured long ago?”
“…Not necessarily.”
There’s always a possibility of a relapse.
Mo Li focuses on diagnosing the pulse; Meng Qi’s agitation has completely vanished due to this distraction.
“Are you worried about me?”
Mo Li does not answer; if he does, someone might feel too pleased.
Excessive joy and anger are harmful to health; he must keep Meng Qi restrained.
“Master Li once said that the Holy Lotus Sect is a plague to the nation. In this moment, your haste is futile,” Mo Li states gravely.
Meng Qi frowns in confusion, “Master Li?”
He has not heard this name before; Meng Qi is keen to explore every name that comes from Doctor Mo, wanting to know their relation to the doctor.
“He is the legal advisor of Zhushan County,” Mo Li thinks for a moment, adding, “My teacher said he has a deep understanding of the bureaucracy and the overall situation of the empire.”
“…The magistrate of Zhushan County is the former Ghostly Poison Vulture Xue Ting, a mysterious healer lives in the mountains, and now you tell me the county’s legal advisor is also no ordinary person?” Meng Qi looks astonished.
Is it because it’s the land of the dragon veins, hence the place is spiritually vibrant? It doesn’t seem likely; these three individuals probably weren’t born in Zhushan County.
“You’re overthinking it, Master Li is just an ordinary person. He has no martial arts skills nor is he a descendant of a previous dynasty,” Mo Li explains while checking the pulse, “You see, even a legal advisor in a small city in Pingzhou has such insights. There are far more knowledgeable people in the world than we can imagine, but for various reasons, they remain unfulfilled.”
As the world falls into chaos, these people will gradually emerge.
Even if the nation perishes, it won’t be easy for the Holy Lotus Sect to usurp and enslave the believers across the land.
Meng Qi remains silent for a while before sighing deeply, “Doctor, you are absolutely right.”
In fact, as beings tied to the dragon veins, whether the world thrives or descends into chaos should originally have nothing to do with them.
If Mo Li had grown up as a common hunter in the Qimao Mountains, he wouldn’t overthink things, probably just wishing for peace in Zhushan County alone, hoping that calamities wouldn’t reach his doorstep.
But he had a teacher who taught him to read and understand what it means to be a “human.”
According to old Master Qin, being “human” isn’t just about being born as one. In fact, it equates to the existence of the “Dao.” Whether one is a dragon vein or a demon, if they can live up to this standard, they are “human.”
Conversely, if a person brings disaster to their community without a shred of decency or morality, then they do not deserve to be called human.
“We can deal with the Holy Lotus Sect gradually; the immediate priority is to ascertain how much influence they have already developed around here, and whether the officials here are utterly negligent or colluding with each other.”
Mo Li uses his internal energy to nudge the horse pulling the cart, which whinnies discontentedly.
Why are they still traveling in the middle of the night?
“You’ve spoiled it,” Meng Qi looks towards Mo Li, having long felt that the doctor treats this horse too well, feeding it well and even buying bean cakes and sugar lumps as treats, frequently stopping him from scaring the horse.
Not using the whip or hitting, just threatening a bit, what’s wrong with that?
Meng Qi’s lips move slightly, thinking if only he had known the doctor liked horses so much…
“Hmm? What did you say?” Mo Li barely hears Meng Qi speaking, but couldn’t make out the words.
They are sitting so close, yet Meng Qi’s voice must have been very low, probably muttering the words without really saying them aloud.
“Nothing, just that if I had known you liked horses so much, I would have had moneybag Liu steal a batch of Liangcheng horses for you, at least they are fine breeds.”
“No need for that, I don’t actually like horses,” Mo Li replies as he watches Meng Qi take his medicine and walks over to pat the horse’s mane, “It’s mainly because it’s very intelligent.”
Its ability to be lazy and cunning, to act cute and clever, reminds Mo Li of the white foxe in Qimao Mountain.
Ah, he has been away for so long, he wonders how the few at home are doing.
The white foxe is naturally sly, and the giant python is also a dominant force in the mountains. Mo Li isn’t too worried about them, but it’s different for the ginseng. It doesn’t have legs and can’t run away; if it gets accidentally dug up by herb collectors or unearthed and eaten by some animal, that would be a disaster.
Not to mention, the horse in front of him seems like the type to do just that.
Mo Li sighs as he watches the horse dig a hole in the ground with its hooves, and finds some dirt to fill it in.
Meng Qi takes this opportunity to speak expressionlessly to the horse, “One of these days I’ll sell you along with the cart.”
The horse might not understand human speech, but it senses danger and lets out a long neigh, drawing Mo Li back.
“Brother Meng, can you not hold a grudge against it?” Mo Li asks helplessly.
“I can’t. It ate my sugar cake yesterday.”
Meng Qi flatly refuses, thinking the horse’s intelligence is all used up in being cowardly and greedy.
Author’s Note:
“A dike a thousand zhang high is destroyed by an ant hole; a hundred-foot room burns down due to a small crack in the chimney.”
—Han Feizi
Most know the first quote, but the second means that a high building can burn down due to the small sparks from a chimney crack.
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Meng Qi: The doctor buys you sugar lumps, and you still eat my sugar cake???
