Chapter 53: There Was an Old Grand Astrologer in the Capital

Facing his disciple’s self-reproach and plea, the backbone of the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring mildly shook his head:

“Zixian, I had long told you: although I still possessed some skill, I alone could not shoulder the task of eradicating the world’s demons and evils.”

“No matter whether I secluded myself or interfered, the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring would arrive at its present state because of many factors — the dynasty’s fortunes, the demons, the common people, and so on.”

“That you were able to strive to maintain the Bureau’s duties without my help was already no small matter; you need not blame yourself.”

When Zixian heard his teacher’s words, his bent body trembled.

He knew better than anyone how much pressure it had placed on him, as the man second only to his teacher in the Bureau, to manage that enormous institution alone.

Many nights he had tossed and turned over matters within the Great Qian Dynasty, unable to cultivate or fall asleep.

Now that his teacher had finally emerged from seclusion, and had not harshly blamed him while relieving the burden, he could not help but feel a surge of emotion he found hard to restrain.

The Grand Astrologer watched his most favored disciple lose control of his feelings; he merely narrowed his kindly eyes and remained silent.

After all those years in high office, Zixian’s brief loss of composure passed quickly and he adjusted himself.

The Grand Astrologer then continued:

“As for state affairs, to be frank, I know next to nothing.”

“But I know one thing: dynastic rise and fall is a common pattern. The Bureau of Heaven Monitoring’s duty was not to preserve the Great Qian Dynasty’s rule,”

“but, while understanding the laws of the world, to do what it could to keep demons from affecting the common people’s normal lives.”

Hearing this, Zixian finally could not help but lift his head:

“But teacher, must we only stand by and watch?”

Had he waited two and a half years for his teacher to emerge from seclusion only to hear a single ‘it would do no good’?

The thought that common people across the land might be suffering, and that he, as a member of the Bureau, had no better solution, hurt him more than the two and a half years he had struggled to keep the Bureau afloat.

The Grand Astrologer saw the pain in Zixian’s eyes and shook his head:

“Of course not.”

“Although dynastic fortunes were a worldly law, human effort still had its place — that was precisely why I came out of seclusion.”

Zixian brightened at once.

He loved nothing more than to follow his teacher, to watch that confident, composed manner and the masterly way he brought everything under control.

That was more thrilling to him than showing off before others and receiving the people’s admiration.

“Teacher, what should we do?”

The Grand Astrologer’s expression remained composed; he spoke neither hurriedly nor slowly:

“The Bureau did not have many people. Most had been orphaned and adopted, then those with cultivation potential were selected and trained from childhood.”

“In this way they would not disturb ordinary people’s lives, it reduced the use of too many court resources, allowed taxes to be spent more on state policy and people’s livelihoods, and prevented the Bureau from growing too large in certain circumstances.”

“And previously the Bureau had had enough hands to monitor the world’s demons.”

“But now chaos was about to come; with the Bureau short of personnel, the old rigid rules could no longer be followed.”

“I will go into the palace to receive an audience with His Majesty shortly, and ask the emperor for a small request.”

Zixian could not help but be curious:

“Teacher, what is the request?”

The Grand Astrologer said calmly:

“Those who enter the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring shall have their household exempted from taxes.”

Zixian’s eyes widened at once.

Entry into the Bureau, tax exemption!

This was no longer the old Bureau that merely adopted and trained orphans — this was conscription!

….

Under the Hair-Jiangshi Pearl’s initial line of flight, Mo Lin spent only a day returning to his birthplace — Hong Mountain.

Because Pearl had already strained to carry him on the back of one python, he left the other five hair-jiangshi, including Gong Yang, at the Black Wind Stronghold.

In any case, if nothing unexpected occurred this trip, he would not need them.

Hong Mountain was only a small hill.

From birth until he left, Mo Lin had met only one far-traveling Secretary Bird who had stopped to rest; there had been no other demonic beasts.

Thus now Mo Lin could entirely claim to be the mountain lord for several kilometers around Hong Mountain.

Of course, he had not returned this time to “return home in glory” or to “bring honor back to his native place.”

He had come because at the foot of Hong Mountain lay a village called Hongjia Village, with about a hundred households and nearly a hundred snake-catchers.

Those hundred snake-catchers and the village’s several hundred residents were Mo Lin’s target this time.

He intended to gather the whole village’s souls into his Soul-Respecting Banner and refine the Thousand-Soul Resentment Fire.

And, incidentally, settle an old score from a single stab long ago.

Although he said he sought vengeance for that single stabbing, Mo Lin had not placed that matter too heavily on his mind.

After all, though he had lost out to Hong Wen back then, he had killed Hong Wen’s father in return — vengeance, in a sense, had been paid.

Besides, Mo Lin and Hong Wen were no longer people of the same world: Hong Wen was only a humble snake-catcher, while Mo Lin could easily slaughter all the people of a bandit den.

When one had become the city’s knives, spears, and cannon, would one travel a thousand miles to kick the village dog that had bitten one as a child? Naturally, there was no time for such trifles.

Of course, if by chance he encountered that annoying dog on this trip, Mo Lin would not object to cutting it down.

To Mo Lin, Hong Wen was like that village dog.

If not for the fact that the people of Hong Village could be turned into “materials” and were familiar and thus less risky, he would not have bothered to return just to revenge Hong Wen.

But since he had come back, taking revenge in passing was only natural.

Mo Lin still clung to a large tree; his weight already bent the branch.

Watching the villagers move below, Mo Lin contemplated.

With his present strength, if he rushed into Hongjia Village and opened a slaughter, he could easily collect the majority of heads and souls.

But if so, those villagers would die almost without pain, without much resentment; the “yield rate” of resentment-souls would be greatly reduced.

Of several hundred villagers, perhaps only a few dozen would ultimately be useful.

To raise the yield rate as much as possible, Mo Lin decided to provoke as much resentment and negative emotion from them while their bodies still lived.

Refine and polish them while alive, so after death they would serve him far better.

Even if those negative emotions were not directed at him personally, they would still be enough to turn them into resentful souls.

With that in mind, Mo Lin already had a simple plan.

The plan might require some preparation time, but if it worked he was confident he could at least double the “yield rate.”

His serpentine pupils flickered as he slid silently down to the foot of the tree; only a thick branch above trembled, relieved of his weight.