Volume One, Chapter Thirteen: The Tower on the Verge of Collapse

Moyang was momentarily taken aback, but soon regained his composure and hurriedly knelt in salute.

“Humble subject Moyang pays respects to Your Highness, Prince Jing.”

“I did not know it was Your Highness, and if I have offended, I beg your forgiveness.”

Li Tianqing reached out to help Moyang up. “Brother Mo, there’s no need for such formality. Please, rise.”

“I know well that men of the martial world are not ones for rigid ceremony, and I care little for such empty rites. Since we have crossed paths, let us call each other brothers.”

“I dare not presume, but Your Highness’s broad-mindedness truly commands respect.”

Moyang stood up, his regard for Li Tianqing growing ever deeper.

Li Tianqing waved a hand, smiling. “Brother Mo, there is no need for restraint between us. Our spirits are in harmony—why keep such distance?”

Seeing that Moyang was still somewhat uneasy, Li Tianqing clapped him on the shoulder. “Brother Mo, you must know that I am soon to travel to Northern Yan as a hostage prince.”

Moyang nodded. “I have heard some rumors.”

“In the tavern earlier, I had to conceal certain matters. Now that you understand, will you still accompany me to Northern Yan?”

Moyang pondered briefly. He had not expected Prince Jing to speak so frankly with him, and his goodwill toward him deepened further.

“Your Highness’s trust is a great honor. Though the journey to Northern Yan is fraught with peril, I am willing to follow Your Highness, if only to repay your kindness!” Moyang cupped his fists in salute.

Li Tianqing laughed softly. “Excellent. With your skill and courage, Brother Mo, I shall rely on your guidance in Northern Yan.”

“Your Highness flatters me. To earn your favor is my fortune. I will do all in my power to ease your burdens,” Moyang replied solemnly.

“Good. There are matters I cannot handle openly—I will need your help.”

“Command me, Your Highness. I will risk my life without hesitation!” Moyang responded, fists clasped.

“Recruit some capable and discreet men in secret to prepare for the journey to Northern Yan. Do you understand my meaning?”

Moyang nodded. “I understand. Rest assured, Your Highness, I will see it done.”

Li Tianqing cupped his hands in thanks. “Time is short—I must trouble you, Brother Mo.”

He then produced a stack of silver notes. “Today, while out, I happened upon a group of refugees. I could not bear to turn them away and have settled them in an estate beyond the city. I will arrange for you to act as the estate steward. Take up residence there for now, and those you recruit can be disguised as refugees and placed there as well.”

Li Tianqing took out an identity token and handed it to Moyang. “Keep this token. With it, you may command the estate guards. I will inform them in advance.”

After discussing further details with Moyang, Li Tianqing took his leave, leading Monk Yunkong back to the Prince Jing’s residence.

That night, in the study of Prince Jing’s residence, Li Tianqing was poring over an ancient book. Monk Yunkong sat nearby, meditating.

“Master Yunkong,” Li Tianqing closed the book and spoke, “I know little of the southwest—it is remote and news travels slowly. You said you are from there. What is the situation like?”

The monk opened his eyes with a sigh. “Your Highness may not know, but the situation there is dire.”

“To be frank, during my recent travels in the southwest, I witnessed countless horrors.”

“Oh? I wish to hear more.” Li Tianqing set his book aside, sat up straight, and his expression grew grave. The southwest was King Xuan’s fief, rich in resources and difficult to attack.

“There, the people live in misery. Banditry is rampant, officials are corrupt. The common folk are starving, homeless, and some have even resorted to cannibalism…”

Monk Yunkong’s words were heavy with sorrow.

“Bandits now run wild in the southwest, committing every atrocity imaginable. The people can barely survive.”

He shook his head, compassion etched on his face.

“Does King Xuan do nothing?” Li Tianqing’s brow furrowed in doubt. As the ruler of that land, King Xuan could not be ignorant of this.

Yunkong gave a short, derisive laugh. “King Xuan? He’s too busy bleeding the people dry and indulging in pleasure. The local officials extort and oppress, the soldiers are in league with the bandits, preying on the people. Families are broken, children sold for survival.”

The more Li Tianqing listened, the darker his expression grew. He could not help but slap the table in anger.

“Outrageous! If this continues, revolt is inevitable…” he sighed deeply.

Yunkong closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. “I investigated these collusions in secret. The rot runs deep—even high ministers at court are involved. I followed the trail all the way to the capital. This is no small matter, and I dare not draw conclusions lightly.”

“How intriguing,” Li Tianqing muttered, frowning, his fingers tapping the table. The waters of the capital were indeed muddy.

He fell silent for a long while before asking, “Do you have any proof?”

Yunkong raised his head, his gaze intense. “I do not have written records, but much of what I tell you I have witnessed with my own eyes. If Your Highness dares hear it…”

“I am all ears,” Li Tianqing replied, his expression steely.

“Your Highness, what I saw in the southwest was truly appalling.”

Monk Yunkong began to recount what he had witnessed.

When I reached Qingxi Town, I found a village strewn with corpses, nearly every house empty. Horrified, I went to investigate, only to discover those people had been butchered by villains.

He spoke with a tremor in his voice.

I continued my journey to another settlement, where I saw government troops massacre villagers, burning, looting, defiling, and binding the old, women, and children for their amusement.

His eyes reddened, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Li Tianqing listened in silence, never interrupting.

Yunkong pressed his palms together, gaze lowered, unwilling to recall such atrocities.

The magistrate of Qingfeng County colludes with local gentry, bleeding the people dry…

The heir of the Marquis of Pingnan, abusing his family’s power, seizes women, robs, and kills with impunity.

One after another, the monk listed crimes that turned the stomach, and with each account, Li Tianqing’s face grew grimmer.

Frontier generals collude with barbarians, trafficking arms for profit.

General Fan Cheng privately raises troops, conspires with bandits, and brings disaster to the region…

The prefect of Kuizhou embezzles relief funds, causing refugees to wander, some forced into cannibalism.

With each revelation, Li Tianqing’s expression darkened, until his face was like thunder.

Li Tianqing sat there, quietly listening, and before they knew it, dawn had come.

Having finished his account, Monk Yunkong closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.