A Pawn's Passage

In fact, even before Qi Xuansu went to Lion City, many people had already reached out to him.

Some were old acquaintances, and some were great figures he had only met once.

There were also people of no small standing, though not quite significant enough to make Qi Xuansu get things done for them with a single greeting. So, they went about it in roundabout ways, making indirect requests. In this social world, such things could not be ignored. One careless move would incur a new enemy, so one had to tread carefully.

During this period, Qi Xuansu’s office was extremely lively, with a constant stream of visitors.

Another office that was just as busy was Xu Jiaorong’s.

While those who came to Qi Xuansu were seeking profit, those who went to Xu Jiaorong were pleading for leniency.

Besides the Wang and Sun families, many others had been punished as well, some even imprisoned. These people all had friends and relatives, so they naturally hoped to rely on connections and find someone to speak on their behalf, willing to spend copious amounts of money to avert disaster.

These two palaces were two entirely different worlds.

On one side, there was joy and a celebratory atmosphere. On the other side, it was sorrowful and bleak.

By coincidence, all of this involved Chen Jianchou. He was Qi Xuansu’s secretary and also Xu Jiaorong’s godson. Regardless of which Deputy Mansion Master one sought help from, one could just go through Chen Jianchou, leaving him overwhelmed.

Some people even said that Chen Jianchou was the true number one Young Master of Nanyang.

Qi Xuansu himself might refrain from greed and corruption, but even he could not withstand such immense pressure.

There were simply too many people who wanted a slice of the Nanyang United Trading Company, so many that Qi Xuansu could not possibly fend them all off.

Today would be an Omniscient Sage, and tomorrow a Great Sage. If he were to trace their lineage carefully, they were all related by marriage or old ties to either the Zhang or the Yao families.

One was a disciple of Sage Cihang, and another was an old friend of Shi Bingyun. He could not possibly favor his prospective mother-in-law over his former superior, or vice versa.

Collateral branches of the Pei family and the disciples of Great Sage Jiang’s disciples had also come to see Qi Xuansu. Though Sage Donghua would not support his own kin meddling in this, and Great Sage Jiang might not even know the names of these juniors, Qi Xuansu could not possibly go to the two of them and expose their kin.

Not only would that embarrass both Sage Donghua and Great Sage Jiang, it would also make them doubt Qi Xuansu’s abilities. If he could not even handle such minor matters, then it seemed he could only ever be a harsh and rigid official.

In the end, Qi Xuansu came up with a solution. He would let them fight it out among themselves first. The victor would naturally come to him.

It was because dividing the pie properly was no easier than making the pie bigger. So many dynasties had fallen over unequal distribution, because no matter what, someone would be offended. It was a zero-sum game—if some ate more, then others ate less.

In the end, even if Qi Xuansu tried his best to keep things balanced, those who had their share taken away would resent him, thinking he had betrayed them, while those who only got leftovers would also resent him, believing he sided with others. He would not please anyone.

Of course, it would be ideal if everyone got an equal share of the pie. But that was impossible. Some people ate more simply because they were powerful. Qi Xuansu could just shave off some crumbs, but if he took away too much, they would flip the table. If things escalated, they would simply replace Qi Xuansu with someone else who could divide the pie in a way that they liked.

The difficulties involved were beyond what a few words could describe.

Qi Xuansu’s own web of relationships was relatively simple, yet even so, the situation was already this complicated. Those with far more complex networks would have an even harder time.

Naturally, these people also resorted to certain methods, like honey traps.

Not long ago, Qi Xuansu had attended a banquet he could not refuse, hosted by his former colleagues from Ziwei Hall. These people from Ziwei Hall had come to Poluo under the pretext that they had to make new appointments because too many Daoist priests had fallen from office in the recent upheaval. To make things easier, they would go to Poluo and inspect suitable candidates. At the same time, they could visit their old colleague Qi Xuansu, who had now risen high.

Qi Xuansu naturally could not decline. Moreover, since the candidate for the new Mansion Master had not yet been decided and personnel matters were under his purview, he had no choice but to deal with the Ziwei Hall.

Thus, the banquet was arranged at the Taiping Inn in Thanglong Prefecture.

Qi Xuansu was busy, so he arrived at dusk. When he reached the Taiping Inn, he saw many large red lanterns lit, exuding a strangely ambiguous vibe.

The moment Qi Xuansu stepped inside, he sensed something was amiss.

All his former colleagues were there, waiting for him, the star of the day. They were chatting in small groups. Some of them were no longer in the Ziwei Hall, but those who had left all held important posts and wielded great power.

Beside them sat several female Daoists, each attractive and graceful, almost one for every man.

Qi Xuansu’s seat was left empty, with a female Daoist arranged on each side. One was slightly older, dignified, and elegant with a mature charm. The other was younger, carrying a touch of youthful innocence, shy and sweet. These two were also the most beautiful. More importantly, they were both at the Guizhen stage.

In the Daoist Order, one’s cultivation symbolized one’s status and rank, which could stir a man’s desire more than mere looks or physique. That was why some men were especially drawn to heroine characters.

This was a carefully calculated move.

Qi Xuansu understood it at a glance.

The Daoist Order was quite strict when it came to relations between men and women. Bringing in courtesans would give others a reason to attack them, but these were all proper female Daoists—colleagues, no less. It even demonstrated equality, so who could fault that?

This was not a meal Qi Xuansu could enjoy because one night of pleasure cost the Daoist Order hundreds of thousands or even millions of Taiping coins.

This would not only be a stain on Qi Xuansu personally but also an act of irresponsibility toward the Daoist Order.

Yet if he did not attend this banquet, he would offend many people, and any future advancement would be met with heavy resistance.

Choosing between the two was a real dilemma.

Fortunately, Qi Xuansu had a perfect excuse: Zhang Yuelu.

Many people’s first impression of Zhang Yuelu was that she was difficult to deal with. This did not mean she had a bad temper. Zhang Yuelu was not especially irritable nor domineering. Rather, she refused to go along with the crowd, standing apart in a way that made many uncomfortable. Yet no one dared to provoke her due to her status, nor could they openly explain it. So, they simply labeled her “difficult.”

Later on, someone likened Zhang Yuelu to the fifth-generation Grand Master. This comment could be taken either way—as praise or as sarcasm—so those who liked her and those who disliked her found it fitting.

That assessment later evolved into becoming overbearing. Zhang Yuelu was branded as domineering, a stereotype that became hard to shake.

As a result, many people naturally assumed that Qi Xuansu was henpecked.

Qi Xuansu did not care to play the role of an unmoved gentleman among so many temptations, so he used Zhang Yuelu as a shield to ward off the ladies, all while without offending anyone.

Zhang Yuelu did not mind, since the impression people had about her was already irreversible.

Besides that, Qi Xuansu had brought Little Yin along. The little rascal was a natural shield. She was innocent and clueless, shattering even the most suggestive atmosphere, making it very hard for anything to happen at all.

This did not seem abrupt, because it was no secret in Nanyang that Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu doted on a little girl.

Everyone understood that with their cultivation advancing so rapidly, this power couple might not be able to have children, so having an adopted daughter in advance was reasonable. The first child would naturally receive all the parent’s love, cherished as the apple of their eye.

Outside of formal occasions, Qi Xuansu often took Little Yin with him wherever he went, and no one would think it was done deliberately.

When everyone saw Qi Xuansu arrive, they rose to greet him.

Among those present, Qi Xuansu might not have held the highest rank, but he was the youngest and had boundless prospects ahead of him, so this gesture of respect was sincere.

After some polite exchanges and courteous refusals, Qi Xuansu took the main seat that had been specially left empty. Since Little Yin was with him, the mature female Daoist had to move over and give up her seat.

The female Daoist was somewhat disappointed at first, but then she thought that if she could win over this little girl, it would also count as a great achievement.

But Little Yin had simply come to eat. She was not an actual three-year-old child who needed to be waited on. Instead, she found the woman more of a hindrance.

As for the other, younger female Daoist, she was probably just over twenty. She was petite and delicate, the most beautiful among the women present.

This young female Daoist was different from the others. She showed little in the way of flattery, her expression calm and reserved. When she occasionally spoke with Qi Xuansu, she was proper and restrained, not showing the slightest inappropriate behavior.

This left two possibilities. She could have been forced to come, or she was deliberately playing hard to get.

Neither possibility was a good one. This made the Daoist Order seem like a brothel, forcing decent people into doing something shameful.

It was no wonder Zhang Yuelu had always said that the Daoist Order needed to change.

To do so, one had to start by changing its ethos.

After several rounds of Dreaming Death, everyone was slightly tipsy.

Emboldened by alcohol, many little gestures and movements began to appear.

Little Yin had already eaten her fill and was patting her belly.

Qi Xuansu was starting to feel restless. Just then, someone invited him to a side hall, where he could drink tea to sober up and begin discussing serious matters—the restructuring of the Nanyang United Trading Company.

These people were not seeking to buy in personally. Rather, they wanted to invest collectively under the name of the Ziwei Hall, making it a hall property. This would allow the Ziwei Hall’s finances to be less restricted, providing more benefits for its staff.

After all, the Jade Capital was not like the local Daoist Mansions. Though it was refined and prestigious, it simply lacked money.

Qi Xuansu asked only one question. “Does Sage Donghua know about this?”