Chapter Sixty-Six: United in Purpose, Alliance of Two Clans

At this moment, the scarecrow’s mouth at last produced a complete voice once more:

“Collecting the dragon spirit was a task assigned by the noble to the high officials governing the prefectures of Wu and Min. Those great pirates, sea merchants, and shipmasters all died, directly or indirectly, at their hands. They are thorough in their work, leaving no loose ends behind. It wasn’t until the capture of the Prince of Jinghai’s heir and the scheme against Lady Yan that the task was passed to us, the gentry faction, and then Pu Shouying handed it to me.”

So, it turns out the task wasn’t subcontracted five times—but six! The local prefecture officials were the very first to play dirty.

“All I know is that sending them to be buried in the sea was to complete a ritual known as ‘Nine Dragons Spitting Pearls.’ Using at least nine, with no upper limit, of these wild dragon spirits, they would refine a treasure of great use to the noble. If not for the accidental escape of the prince’s heir, causing a leak of dragon spirit, we might not have targeted Lady Yan. Her background is far too formidable. Unlike the lone Prince’s faction, the Heavenly Concubine’s line is guarded by a true deity—no one would dare provoke them lightly. But we had no other choice. The noble gave us a deadly order: before the second day of the second lunar month, the ritual must be completed. Miss the timing, and none of us would be spared. The gentry faction’s eagerness to seize Moon Harbor is largely to find the prince’s heir and Lady Yan.”

Wang Cheng’s feelings were complicated as he listened.

“All those without connections had their families wiped out; those with backing were all taken away. That sounds all too familiar.”

He glanced at Axiao, the temple attendant of Lady Yan, feeling a bit guilty. If this local deity of the Heavenly Concubine’s line knew his true identity, she might well be inclined to kill him.

Lady Yan: So I’ve become the spare?

But Axiao, Lady Yan’s temple attendant, upon hearing Xie He’s words, did not vent her anger on the escaped prince’s heir—she merely sighed softly.

“In this world, there is no logic that blames the victim. As long as these evildoers remain, my Lady Yan will always be a potential target. According to Xie He, as long as we can survive until the second day of the second month without being found, we’ll have at least a year’s respite. By then, the situation will be very different. Now there’s little more than half a month left; if we’re careful, we might avoid being discovered.”

The final question: what exactly had they dredged up from the South Sea’s pearl beds during the grand harvest? Only Pu Shouying, who handled the coordination, truly knew. Xie He only knew that the most precious treasures and a majority of the pearls never reached Emperor Shaozhi.

He spoke with some disdain for the ruler:

“By tradition, the lords keep two million for themselves, and the emperor gets a million. And for this, the emperor still has to thank them with a smile!”

Wang Cheng was silent, forced to admit: to govern the nation is to govern the officials.

All too often, the interests of the highest ruler and the common people are aligned. They must unite to prevent the entrenched middle layer—the so-called “people” in the officials’ own words—from hollowing out the country, delaying the fall of the three-hundred-year dynastic cycle.

Even without a clear answer from Xie He, enough hints allowed Wang Cheng to conclude that what they dredged from the South Sea likely included the legacy of the “Dragon Heir.”

He was already pondering how to use the intelligence he had to counter that “Dragon Heir.”

Axiao continued to question Xie He:

“Do you have anything else to say?”

The scarecrow’s voice resumed:

“Pu Shouying said that once the ‘Nine Dragons Spitting Pearls’ ritual is completed, the noble will forcibly extract all the dragon spirits accumulated in the East Sea by those ‘Princes’ and ‘Thousand-Year Lords.’ With the help of the spy within the Five Peaks Banner, we can seize most of the East Sea without bloodshed and monopolize the vast sea trade profits. The noble feasts, we drink the broth; everyone rises together.”

At that, Zhang Wu, the ardent fan of the Prince of Jinghai, hurried to ask a question Wang Cheng himself was keen to know:

“Many of those great pirates buried at sea deserved their fate, and we care little for their lives. But what about the Prince of Jinghai and his heir, who weren’t buried? They too possess dragon spirit.”

Xie He paused before replying, “The ritual was only half-completed with the prince’s ship. I don’t know exactly what will happen to them, but surely they can’t escape unscathed—it will not end well for them!”

It took Wang Cheng a long moment to process everything, frowning deeply.

From the grand pearl harvest, to the string of deaths among wild dragon spirits in the East Sea, to the destruction of the Water Kings, and finally to the ‘Nine Dragons Spitting Pearls’ on the second day of the second month—it was all connected. The “Dragon Heir” of the Han clan and the gentry’s conspiracy were links in a single chain.

Moon Harbor, sea trade, wealth, territory... all were but minor details and surface matters. Only the divine ritual capable of transforming fate was the true main line!

The second day of the second month was not just the countdown to Lady Yan’s death—it might well be the death knell for his own family. Their fates were now inseparably bound.

Wang Cheng’s next goal was clear: before the second day of the second month, to protect Moon Harbor and Lady Yan was to protect himself and his father, and to turn this page completely.

If he could in turn outwit Pu Shouying and the noble who remained hidden behind the scenes, that would be a bonus.

And if, while the spy provoked the Five Peaks Banner to invade the coast, he could seize the opportunity...

The thought flickered and vanished; for now, he dared not plan so far ahead.

Looking back at Axiao, he saw her biting her delicate pink lips, a cold gleam reflected in her heterochromatic eyes.

Clearly, even faced with such a mighty force, this pearl diver who had survived the grand pearl harvest years ago refused to accept her fate—she had no intention of abandoning her Lady Yan and fleeing.

On the contrary, she would fight to the end.

Wang Cheng nodded to himself:

“This temple attendant is truly worthy. Like me, she has a sense of the greater good and responsibility. Born for collective effort... for that sort of association.”

An idea struck him. Since he was about to recruit among the Tanka people, why not invite Axiao to join? After all, she was a capable and official position-holder.

The crew of the sailing warship was still too sparse; they lacked not only ordinary sailors but also high-level combatants. They needed to recruit position-holders from all trades.

Divine officials were much like court officials: their power was limited to their department. Each was a specialist and would inevitably face matters beyond their expertise—cooperation was essential.

Whitewater Men, Star Navigators, Medical Officers, Alchemical Taoists, Convoy Masters, Sea Salvagers, Pearl Divers, Treasure Hunters, Monkey Tamers... all were needed.

They weren’t familiar enough yet for a direct invitation; better to establish a connection now and wait for the right moment after the crisis.

So, rising and clasping his fists, he said:

“Sister Axiao, a formal introduction. I am Wang Fugui, of Moon Harbor, Scholar of the 38th year of Shaozhi; bow officer of the sailing warship Blue Robes; leader of the Blue Robes Fishermen’s Guild; direct disciple of Elder Shen of the Shanhai Society; eighth-rank register student, soon to be officially appointed this month...

The Shanhai Society stands with the Heavenly Concubine’s line; we will never stand by while villains plot against Lady Yan.

We men of commerce value our word above all, and our promise is true. My master’s stance is the same.

Sister Axiao, will you trust me?”

Axiao withdrew her gaze from Xie He; from this enemy she could already tell that “Wang Fugui” and the gentry faction were mortal enemies—he was trustworthy.

She also trusted the judgment of a direct hall officer and so many clansmen.

Meeting Wang Cheng’s sincere gaze for a moment, she stood, placed her right fist over her left and held it at her abdomen, bowing slightly.

Accepting his address of “Sister Axiao,” she solemnly introduced herself:

“Temple attendant to Lady Yan, seventh-rank Pearl Diver; you may call me... Yunxiao. Thank you, little Fugui, for your righteous aid. You have my gratitude.”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

A large and a small hand clapped together three times.

Though only their second meeting, both felt a subtle sense of rapport.

Axiao truly began to feel a bit like an elder sister—quite different from her interactions with the younger Tanka.

Their bond, all at once, reached the level of siblings. Remembering that, by human custom, she ought to praise her “little brother” at such moments, Yunxiao tried to comply.

But, accustomed as she was to solitude, she found these warm exchanges awkward. After some thought, she earnestly praised him:

“Fugui, your love song earlier was actually quite nice. It would have been even better if you hadn’t sung ‘Waiting for My Love’s Return.’”

Wang Cheng: ...

Lies do not hurt, but sincerity is a sharp blade.

If you don’t know how to give a compliment, there’s really no need to force yourself.