It’s better to be a dog in peaceful times than a human in chaotic ones.
No matter how many people cried out in panic, hid, or banged on pots and pans, the sun continued to disappear bit by bit.
In a temple on the outskirts of Run County, a crowd of frightened people had gathered.
Some were anxiously glancing at the sky outside, while others were making frantic gestures in prayer before the Buddha statue.
Only the elderly were more devout and appeared calmer. They scolded the younger ones, stopping them from running outside.
A solar eclipse was considered inauspicious. People believed that even being exposed to that light could cause illness. Those beating gongs and drums stood under the eaves; they couldn’t enter the house unless they crossed a fire basin. The longer the darkness lasted, the more ominous it became.
Fengxing Pavilion’s leader, Qiu Jing, draped in a simple robe, stood in the side room, looking through the window at the commotion in the temple’s main hall.
Her forehead, shoulders, and back were injured.
The injuries weren’t severe, but the burn on her back had festered, making it difficult to heal. Even with medication, it looked quite terrifying.
“Master, we’re short on medicine here. It would have been good to ask Doctor Mo for a prescription…”
“The situation last night was urgent. There was no time for seeking medical help. These are minor wounds. As long as they’re kept dry, they’ll heal.”
Though Qiu Jing spoke lightly, her subordinates weren’t at ease at all.
Wounds that wouldn’t heal easily could lead to ulcers, and once the infection set in, even immortals couldn’t save her.
Although they were martial artists with high-quality healing medicines for external injuries, unlike ordinary people or soldiers who could die from a small wound, burns were tricky. Not only were they painful, but they were also hard to bandage.
“Master, how about we go to Jingzhou to recuperate?”
Qiu Jing’s subordinate suggested with concern.
After the events of the previous night, almost every skilled member of Fengxing Pavilion was injured, and they all needed proper rest.
But the situation didn’t allow them to pause. They needed to quickly investigate the background of Shopkeeper Sun’s group, check whether Fengxing Pavilion’s secret posts and branches in the area had fallen or were being monitored, and spread the news about opium to everyone who should know.
Qiu Jing hadn’t closed her eyes all night. This temple, where one of her father’s old friends had taken refuge, was safe and neutral, with no ties to the martial world.
But they couldn’t stay long.
The ambitions of the Xiliang people were vast, and more forces lurked in the shadows. They couldn’t linger anywhere for too long, or they might attract disaster.
Looking at these people, panicked simply because of a solar eclipse, Qiu Jing felt something heavy pressing against her chest, stifling her.
“Master?” Fengxing Pavilion’s members were alarmed, thinking Qiu Jing’s internal injuries were acting up.
“It’s nothing.”
Qiu Jing slowly lowered her hand from her chest and suddenly asked, “If every commoner could read a few books, understand the dangers of cults like the Sacred Lotus Altar, know that opium is deadly, and realize that the sun isn’t being eaten by a celestial dog, what kind of world would this be?”
This question left Qiu Jing’s subordinates speechless.
Since the Shang, Zhou, Qin, and Han dynasties, officials had acted as “shepherds,” treating the people like livestock. As long as they didn’t cause trouble and kept multiplying, providing labor for the fields and soldiers for wars, the rulers could maintain their control.
Who would bother teaching the common people anything more?
The Qin dynasty burned the texts of the hundred schools of thought to keep the populace ignorant.
In later dynasties, people could read, but education was expensive. The children of ordinary farmers couldn’t afford to study and had nowhere to learn.
“The prosperity of the empire depends on the people. But those sitting on the throne, or wearing official hats, added two words to that phrase.”
That is, the prosperity of the empire depends on the people’s obedience.
When the court lacked manpower, they demanded more children be born. When the court needed money and grain, they ordered the people to farm diligently.
People were unpredictable and prone to rebellion. So, they were restrained with Confucian doctrines, the state ruling the nation, clans ruling the family, with layers of control pressing down… There was no need to think or even imagine anything else—just obey.
Qiu Jing slowly clenched her fists, her subordinates listening to her complaints.
“Emperor Qi, Lu Zhang, usurped the throne, and his son, Emperor Yongchen, killed his own father to seize power. The noble families outwardly obeyed but inwardly opposed the Lu clan, while remote officials disregarded the emperor’s orders, sowing the seeds of disaster. Then came three years of drought in Yongzhou, and the Sacred Lotus Altar took advantage of the situation to stir up the ignorant masses. War is about to break out in the southwest. The remaining three princes of the former Chu state are either indulging in their pleasures or fighting amongst themselves, aiming high but achieving little… It seemed this was the will of heaven, and heaven’s mandate hadn’t arrived. The people were doomed. If the current state could be maintained, it would be good enough. But then, a group of Xiliang people appeared.”
Some were madly seeking to establish achievements, while others did not want war to break out again.
Once war started, Fengxing Pavilion, which appeared large and flourishing with many people, would instantly collapse because most of their followers were ordinary folks with some basic martial skills. These people chose to sell information simply because they didn’t want to wander the martial world without food, nor did they want to join the military and be heavily regulated. Though they seemed stronger than ordinary civilians, able to fight and flee, in a time of chaos, a stray arrow or a charge of unruly soldiers could still end their lives.
The most important thing for Fengxing Pavilion wasn’t its people but the network of intelligence spread across various regions and the channels for gathering information, like the prices of grain and salt.
When war broke out, these channels and networks of intelligence would vanish like smoke.
“Master, there’s new information from Run County! Something happened near the City God Temple!”
Qiu Jing pulled herself together and took the report her subordinate handed over.
—A fight between unfamiliar experts caused the roofs of a whole street to disappear. People saw what seemed to be a demonic whirlwind, and the townspeople panicked and rushed towards the city gates in an attempt to flee.
Qiu Jing inhaled sharply, then her expression turned stern.
“The mastermind has shown themselves.”
The true leader of the assassins’ organization, the core figure of the Xiliang forces, and the benefactor of the swordsman Su Li.
Even without Qiu Jing’s orders, Fengxing Pavilion’s people immediately began mobilizing, investigating the situation following the Sun family’s departure.
“I wonder, how does this person’s martial skill compare to Meng Qi’s?”
“Doesn’t Meng Qi have Doctor Mo by his side?”
“If that’s the case, this person is still the leader of an assassin organization. If they could train someone like Su Li, there might be another. I’ve heard that the martial arts of the Mojie Temple in Xiliang were quite advanced back in the day, comparable to the Hengzhang Temple and the Tianshan Sect. If Xiliang has been plotting for a long time, I fear they may have many skilled fighters.”
Listening to her subordinates’ chattering, Qiu Jing’s expression grew more and more solemn.
Finally, they exchanged glances and cautiously asked, “Master, should we return for now and ask your father to intervene? This matter has already escalated to the point of affecting the entire realm’s fate. It’s not something we can easily turn around; we need additional support.”
Qiu Jing furrowed her brow and said in a deep voice, “We do need to find someone, but we can’t leave. This is a rare opportunity. The Xiliang forces in Run County have been thrown into chaos by Meng Qi, forcing them to retreat. If we leave now, who will catch their fox’s tail?”
Seeing the hesitant looks on her subordinates’ faces, Qiu Jing added with emphasis, “Don’t forget, Meng Qi was the Grand Preceptor of the previous dynasty. Although Chu conquered Xiliang, Chu is almost gone now, with only the three remaining princes. If the Xiliang people aim to restore their nation, as long as their leader isn’t a fool, they won’t waste their energy seeking revenge on Meng Qi. And as for Meng Qi… why would he need to stop them?”
Everyone was stunned, and their expressions changed.
Qiu Jing sighed and continued in a grave tone, “Meng Qi is alone, with no attachments. Experts like him can easily retreat to the mountains and disappear forever. Didn’t he do just that for many years? Does he care whether the empire is ruled by the Lu family or the Li family, whether Xiliang rules or the Tianhou King ascends? No, the ones truly at risk are us, not Meng Qi.”
“But the Grand Preceptor…”
The experts of Fengxing Pavilion hesitated.
They wanted to say, wouldn’t Meng Qi intervene?
Everyone knew who Meng Qi was—a founding hero of Chu. When he appeared, they instinctively doubted him, yet when danger loomed, they instinctively trusted him. This contradiction was palpable.
Qiu Jing didn’t respond.
Yes, Meng Qi might not be a “shepherd,” might not see the common people as livestock, but still—
“Everyone has their limits, and chaos is coming. Who can stop it? It’s a time when all people must unite their strength. If we rely solely on others to shelter us and seek a moment’s respite, we may find ourselves with no place to be buried when the time comes.”
Qiu Jing’s expression was serious, and her subordinates understood her meaning.
If the Xiliang people seized the realm, would Meng Qi die? Would Mo Li die?
No. It wouldn’t even matter much to them. A supreme expert could simply vanish into seclusion, leaving the true suffering to people like them.
If Fengxing Pavilion withdrew now and failed to act… there might be no second chance.
“Isn’t Run County rife with rumors of a demonic dragon’s appearance? Coupled with today’s solar eclipse, we’ll strike from this angle.” Qiu Jing’s eyes gleamed with firm conviction. Calmly, she directed, “Spread the rumors: Disaster rises in the northwest, spreading to the southwest. Wolves with wild ambitions seek to devour the sun and moon.”
***
There’s an old saying: “With ten thousand strings of coins, ride a crane to Yangzhou.”
In fact, before the rise of the salt merchants, Jingzhou, adjacent to Yangzhou, was even more prosperous.
Jingzhou had long been a place of distinguished scholars, its soil fertile, governing eight commanderies and twenty-seven counties. Unfortunately, after the fall of Chu, the river divided the land between north and south, and Jingzhou was forcibly split into two parts, the northern part being smaller and the southern larger.
As a result, vast tracts of land were converted into military camps, with forces from both sides stationed there.
Most of them were naval troops.
The Qi dynasty’s soldiers were mostly northerners, unskilled in naval warfare. Although they had managed to form a navy, not a single general or soldier wanted to initiate conflict with the remnant Chu regime to the south.
The navy’s reluctance stemmed from the fact that most of the soldiers were forcibly recruited from the local population, whose ancestors had ties to the people across the river. As for the generals, they refused because they didn’t respect the Lu family’s claim to the throne. Why should they fight for an usurper? Even if they conquered the south through bloody battles, at best, they’d be rewarded with titles, and at worst, they’d be discarded once their usefulness had passed.
Moreover, ever since Lu Zhang seized the throne, he had repeatedly suppressed the military commanders to prevent anyone from amassing power and staging a coup. The situation was only worsened by the scheming civil officials in court who fanned the flames, causing discontent among the generals of the Qi dynasty long ago.
While the garrison in Jingzhou fared slightly better than the border troops, their situation wasn’t much improved.
They weren’t starving, their porridge wasn’t mixed with sand, and their cotton clothing wasn’t stuffed with paper, but their pay was still being withheld. Generals, unable to feed their families without skimming from wages, were gradually being pushed toward corruption.
The southern side wanted to make money, and the Qi dynasty in the north was short on funds. The two stationed forces soon found common ground, and every now and then, two boats would secretly cross the river, smuggling tea leaves, raw silk, fine cloth, and illicit salt.
“…Ha, who wants to fight a war? Nobody wants a war, unless they’re tired of living!”
The river flowed steadily, with two small boats hidden among the reeds. The boatman, a burly man without a trace of a fishy smell, looked like a former soldier, and his blunt speech betrayed his background without any attempt to hide it.
“Is it really possible to cross the river here?”
The speaker was an old woman holding the hand of a child. Her voice trembled, and tears streamed down her face.
“Officer, both my son and daughter-in-law are gone. All my relatives are on the other side. I can’t swing a hoe anymore, and I can’t earn any silver. I only hope to entrust my grandson to the family on the other side. The local headman saw my plight and said I could cross the river here. Please, officer, give my grandson a chance to live!”
The old woman was about to kneel, but the boatman waved her off repeatedly. “What officer? There are no officers here. Pay enough, and you can cross.”
The old woman quickly pulled out an old purse, trembling as she emptied it of half a string of coins and handed it over.
“Just this much?” The boatman frowned in disdain. “That’s only enough for one person’s fare. Both our government and the King of Jing on the other side have decreed that no boat shall cross the river. We’re doing a business that could cost us our heads.”
The old woman’s face was covered in tears as she knelt, unable to get back up.
The boatman, frustrated, furrowed his brow and glanced toward the reeds.
Three figures stood sparsely on the shore. One was a man dressed as a merchant, while the other two looked far more distinguished.
The man on the left wore a faded outer robe, dressed as an old scholar, carrying a worn-out book bag. Despite his tattered clothes, his eyes were sharp, his silver beard and hair gave him an air of wisdom, and his demeanor was dignified. Beside him stood a man with white hair and a white beard, looking like a reclusive hermit, exuding an aura of detachment from the world.
Despite their simple clothing and lack of possessions, anyone with eyes could tell they were not ordinary folk.
The boatman, however, seemed unfazed, casting a sideways glance in their direction.
The merchant, nervous and shrinking back, stood aside as the old scholar strolled over calmly. He opened his book bag and handed the boatman a string of coins.
The boatman weighed it in his hand, recognizing the solid copper coins of the Qi dynasty, and a smile spread across his face as he eagerly peered into the book bag.
But all he saw were some half-worn clothes, made of fine fabric, and little else besides herbs, books, ink, and brushes. The boatman clicked his tongue, reluctantly shifting his gaze away and impatiently waving them aboard. “Get on the boat.”
The hermit-like man lowered his head slightly as he passed the old woman.
The old woman hurriedly knelt to him, as if begging for alms.
“Alright, alright, stop making a scene. Business is bad today, and we don’t have a full boat anyway. The boat’s heading over with cargo regardless, so one more won’t make a difference. Get on.” The boatman looked at the sky, striding toward the riverbank.
The old woman was overjoyed and hastily dragged her grandson and bundle onto the boat, scrambling ahead of the two elderly men as if afraid the boatman would change his mind.
As the sky grew darker, the boatman untied the ropes and signaled his two companions, who were squatting nearby, smoking pipes. They all boarded the boat together.
With the creaking sound of the oars, the small boat hugged the riverbank as it made its way through the tall reeds.
The old woman huddled in a corner of the cabin with her grandson, while the merchant, now somewhat composed, smiled obsequiously and struck up a conversation with the boatman. “Master Chang, how come you personally came today? I’m truly embarrassed to trouble you. This is for the brothers to have some tea.”
The boatman took the purse without hesitation, saying, “Ah, blame it on that damned solar eclipse! A bunch of cowardly fools, too scared to come out, so I had to go myself. We only make a trip once every three days, and now we’re missing a fare. How am I supposed to explain that to my superiors?”
The merchant nodded repeatedly. “Of course, of course, it’s not easy for anyone.”
He glanced toward the bow of the boat and flattered, “Master Chang, you have a kind heart, not only letting that old woman off half a string but also not charging those two gentlemen extra.”
The boatman followed his gaze to the two men standing at the bow, snorting, “Originally, the fare depends on the person, whether they’re coming back or not, and the price differs accordingly. Those young ones only know how to extort fat sheep, but they don’t pay attention. Wang San, do you know who those two are?”
“Well… perhaps they’re some renowned scholars.”
The merchant answered cautiously, while the boatman, still rowing, whispered, “Exactly. Their clothes are worn, but the inner garments are made of fine material. How many common folk could afford that?”
“Then—”
A flash of malice crossed the merchant’s eyes, but he quickly masked it with a subservient demeanor.
The boatman glanced at him nonchalantly, admonishing, “Wang San, you’ve been working for our general for years, yet you still can’t keep your cool? Even if they’re carrying silver drafts, what of it? Scholars are the hardest to deal with, especially these old men with one foot in the grave. They might have old friends, classmates, or former students who are now officials on both sides of the river. It’s not just about extorting them—if we rob or kill them, you think no one will come looking? In the end, it won’t be them who die; it’ll be us, the errand runners.”
The itinerant merchant suddenly realized why the boatman was so accommodating, even allowing the old woman to board.
“So, with people like this, it’s best to be respectful and keep your distance. Just take their money and deliver them safely across the river. Simple as that,” the boatman explained with a sigh. “Over the years, how many scholars have fled south? The south is wealthy, while the north is stricken by drought. Everyone thinks Jiangnan is a paradise… But aside from those famous scholars or intellectuals, I reckon those gentry and students who moved their entire families there probably regret it bitterly by now.”
“Why do you say that?”
The sudden voice startled both the boatman and the merchant. They looked up to see the elder, who looked like a recluse, had approached unnoticed.
The boatman wondered how this man walked so quietly. The wind and waves rocked the boat, but these two men stood at the bow as if nothing was amiss. Wiping his face, the boatman thought, *These must be important people after all,* though it had nothing to do with him. Casually, he waved his hand and said, “Oh, just my rambling nonsense, old man. Please don’t mind it.”
“No harm,” the old scholar also walked over slowly. His beard and hair were neatly groomed, and his face was lean and clean. As soon as he spoke, it made others feel inherently smaller in comparison.
It is said that a person’s bearing changes depending on their environment, and this was evident in his words and manner.
The boatman snapped back to his senses and realized he had instinctively bowed slightly.
He cursed himself inwardly and was grateful he hadn’t lost his head today—clearly, these were troublesome people.
The boatman, surnamed Chang, wanted nothing to do with trouble. He forced a smile and said, “Let’s just say, once I’ve spoken, my words will be carried away by the river breeze. Once we cross this river, old man, let’s forget all this, and I won’t remember a thing either.”
The hermit-like elder frowned slightly.
The boatman set down the oar, smoking his pipe, and said, “The north suffers from drought, with no harvest, while the south enjoys good weather, with abundant crops. Sure, you can grow anything there—but only if you can buy land. And even if you do, you’d better be able to keep it! Just last month in Jingzhou, there was a case of murder over land. The family of a scholar named Li, who had passed down their 20 mu of prime land for generations, had it forcibly taken from them. Twenty mu! And they were only given three taels of silver… Scholar Li sought justice but had nowhere to turn, so his entire family hung themselves at the prefecture’s gate. In the north, that would’ve caused an uproar, and the imperial guards would’ve been knocking on doors the next day. But down south? They just dragged the bodies to a mass grave, and that was the end of it.”
“Outrageous!”
“Old man, calm down. It’s not just scholars; countless local gentry have lost their families over this. The south may look prosperous, with everyone living well, but that’s only if you’re a tenant farmer with just enough to eat. The real danger is if you have property.”
The boatman continued slowly, “Take Scholar Li, for example. Did he provoke anyone? No, his family was honest and upright. Was it because his land was particularly valuable? No, what would be considered fertile land in the north is nothing special down here. Now, I know you’ll ask, where did the trouble come from then? Well, over the years, the nearby land was gradually bought up by powerful people. Eventually, a large swath of land surrounded Scholar Li’s 20 mu, and that didn’t sit well with them. How could they tolerate someone else owning land in the middle of theirs? Scholar Li’s family, being stubborn, refused to sell their ancestral property. Had they sold at a loss, they might have at least gotten some silver. But Scholar Li wasn’t satisfied with the low price, and the result was the destruction of his family.”
As the boatman spoke, he suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
*Wait… was that… killing intent?*
Alarmed, the boatman looked up quickly.
The elder, who resembled a recluse, had walked over to the edge of the boat, seemingly just to admire the scenery.
But with the sky dark and the moon yet to rise, there wasn’t much to see on the river. Then again, scholars did tend to have strange habits.
The boatman thought, *If this stubborn scholar starts a public outcry and raises a storm in Jiangnan, that’d be something to watch.*
“I can’t read, so I don’t know much. But I’ve heard people say, ‘It’s better to be a dog in peaceful times than a human in chaotic ones.’ And I think that’s a perfect saying. In peaceful times, all you can be is a dog; being human is impossible.” The boatman chuckled, then resumed rowing the boat.
Author’s Note:
Meng Qi: This is the Grand Preceptor Meng’s appearance, looking up.jpg
Mo Li: …I just remembered how Mr. Qin dressed, so I modeled him after that.
Change appearance? The dragon vein solves everything [just kidding], a quick transformation will do.
Meng Qi: Doctor, you look so dignified and graceful at eighty years old, really handsome… like a mountain [swallows back the last three words].
Mo Li: …Well, being eighty is better than being eight.
Two chubby children boarding a boat hand in hand? Not happening.
————
The consolidation of land in feudal societies was a serious social issue.
In reality, some famous civil officials’ families purchased land back home, creating numerous problems. Forced buying and selling were common practices. Some officials even took land directly from people after major disasters. Refugees returning home found no land to farm. When the court built levees, they only protected the officials’ lands, while the commoners’ lands were left vulnerable. Flooding would destroy their crops, and no one cared.
Scholar Li’s case is one of land consolidation. A disaster caused by one’s land, while simply sitting at home. Smart people may sense trouble when they see their neighbors’ lands being bought up by a single or a few families. They sell quickly and leave, but selling ancestral property was seen as disgraceful, and few did it. Even if one wanted to, their family would oppose it…
So, if you were to time-travel to a peaceful era with fertile land and just wanted to farm… Well, you wouldn’t be able to. The plot has to be fictionalized, otherwise the story won’t work. If you don’t want to become an official, it usually ends in tragedy.