Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
“Eternity is when people still know about you after hundreds of years. There’s not many who have achieved this throughout history. Ordinary people will be forgotten after some generations of their offspring. Do you want to be one of them, having your name washed away by the tides of time?”
Ancient people believed one should make the whole of their lives by making history. That was the appeal of Jiang Pengji’s invitation.
Meng Hun felt his heart pumping with strange excitement. He cleared his throat before tightening his dried lips. “Langjun, what do you mean?”
Jiang Pengji beamed. “Do you want a new master? I guess you wouldn’t like hiding in the countryside for the rest of your life.”
Meng Hun was stunned. His round eyes stared at her with astonishment, uncertainty, and enthusiasm.
Soon, he calmed his relentless heart and pondered the danger rationally. “Aren’t you afraid of the Meng’s?”
“As I told you, I’ll take care of that. The house won’t live long. If we win, we will be the ones who write history. Then, you can reveal their scandals to generations of people.”
She continued to tempt him with a luring voice. “People will praise you while they condemn the Meng’s. Isn’t it the best revenge?”
Better than everything he could think of!
Having a vision of the future she painted, Meng Hun breathed heavily and swallowed. Yet, he was a sensible man, after all. “Langjun, that’s treason.”
“Treason?” she snorted and repeated in a peculiar tone.
Meng Hun was further composed. He prevented his mind from being changed. “Don’t you think that’s disloyalty?”
She shook her head with a smile and questioned, “Disloyalty to whom? The court is corrupt, and our fellow people are desperate. Meng Hun, tell me frankly––who did you serve in Cang? The King of Dongqing or the Meng’s?”
The last sentence hit his heart like a brick. He opened his mouth, speechless.
“You don’t have to answer me. Isn’t it clear enough when you continue to call me ‘Langjun’ instead of ‘Traitor?’”
Meng Hun made not a sound. He dared not to meet her gaze. All that she had said was indisputable.
“The fake peace here will break quickly,” continued Jiang Pengji with irony. “Your old master, the Meng’s, are turning civilians’ homes into battlefields and rousing their discontent.”
Her tone was leisurely, as usual. “Apart from internal threats, the foreign tribes are also jeopardizing Dongqing. Under these circumstances, anyone who can save the people can be a candidate for the throne, and I am no exception. I don’t believe in divine power. If monarchs are appointed by heaven, why would the Xia Dynasty be overthrown?”
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As she made her ambition explicit, Meng Hun looked at her anxiously. “Langjun, walls have ears!”
Jiang Pengji shrugged. “No one else can eavesdrop on us. If I am so careless, there’s no point in mentioning all of this to you.”
She was arrogant, but not in a foolish way. She would only reveal her plan when she had developed sufficient power to confront her rivals. Were she not confident in him, she would not have mentioned it to Meng Hun, either.
Meng Hun had made his choice. Still, he wanted to ask, “Langjun, I thank you for trusting me. But what if I leak the secret?” He knew that was tricky and might annoy Jiang Pengji, but he was curious.
Jiang Pengji glanced at him and asked in return, “When you said you could die for your brothers, was that a lie?”
“No, of course not!”
“See? That’s why I’m not worried.” Jiang Pengji diverted her gaze and said in a light voice, “If I have trusted the wrong person, it’d be my own fault.”
Her answer moved Meng Hun. He had already regarded her as his new master.
But then she added with a smile, “If I’ve made a mistake, I’ll erase it immediately.”
“…” Wait, something’s wrong here.
Before he could think further, Jiang Pengji changed the subject. “This is my family’s property, so you can store Meng Liang’s body in the cellar. The ice there can prevent it from rotting.” She knew how the corpse would look; terror would be frozen on the pale countenance.
Meng Liang needed to pray they would not meet in his afterlife.
“Well… Shouldn’t we burn it and throw the ashes somewhere instead?” Meng Hun found it a waste of ice to store Meng Liang’s body there.
“No.” Jiang Pengji gave a low, dangerous laugh. “Isn’t it too cruel to his father if Meng Liang’s ashes are disposed of like trash, or if his corpse rots with the insects?”
Meng Hun was silent. Wasn’t it equally cruel for Meng Zhan to see his son’s well-preserved, dead body?
He began to realize other qualities in Jiang Pengji aside from the kindness she had shown him. That was not a surprise, for kindness alone would not prompt a person to aim at the throne.
“You also have to clean up the blood. It’s getting warmer and the smell can attract flies and mosquitoes easily.” Jiang Pengji suggested, “You and your companions must use aliases and disguise your appearances. You may stay in the farm village temporarily.”
“You mean village I’ve been to?” He smiled.
“Yes, but your stay won’t be long.” Jiang Pengji held her arms at her bosom. The dissolute posture was different from the usual elegance of langjuns.
She said, “I’m planning to tackle the bandits near Hejian. Among them, reliable, competent men who are willing to join us can stay at the village for training. Those with corrupt morals must be eliminated. I’ll do this before rumors about the Meng reach Hejian and cause further chaos.”
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