Chapter Sixty-Five: Lawless

The First Scholar of Crime divided those who rebelled against authority into four kinds.

The first kind were nothing more than common folk who had been exploited by the government to the point where survival was impossible, or those who had suffered from calamities and were forced to raise their banners and shout for a morsel of food. These people were the most numerous, the lowest on the ladder; in such desperate straits, with just a bite to eat, what would they not dare to do? Life and death were beyond their control. Even in the act of rebellion, there was no thought for tomorrow, only a muddled existence. At first, their uprising was the most frenzied, but once they had a few full meals, fear would creep in and they would begin to long for peaceful days...

This was, in truth, human nature; nothing inherently wrong with it.

Unfortunately, the times did not allow them this chance. The founding of the Qi Kingdom had lasted over two centuries, but within, it was already on the brink of collapse. The court was united in corruption, aristocratic clans enforced a strict hierarchy, wealthy farmers and merchants annexed good land and monopolized prices. Even in years of abundance, after exorbitant taxes and levies, little surplus was left to the people—predators watched with keen eyes and calculated far more shrewdly than any peasant.

Should disaster strike, the ordinary folk could only sell their fields and land, their sons and daughters, and if that was not enough to survive, then death was the only remaining path—so long as the lords continued to eat and drink well, the deaths of commoners mattered little.

Thus, this first kind of person was of little use unless a true ambition to conquer the world arose.

The second kind were those who bore deep enmity toward the court. The First Scholar of Crime considered himself among these. To be able to hold a grudge against the authorities and still remain alive required some measure of skill; otherwise, how would one even have the chance to remember a grudge?

The enemy of one's enemy, even if not a friend, could at least become a temporary ally—so the First Scholar of Crime believed, and he viewed such people as potential partners in cooperation.

As for the third kind, even he was reluctant to associate with them—these were the lawless, those who recognized neither rule nor order. Scholars called them: those who broke the law with words, and knights who broke the ban with the sword. For various reasons, such people were unafraid to offend the court, yet acted purely on whim, with no discernible pattern to their deeds and thus were impossible to predict.

To work with such men was to invite immense risk and the likelihood of disaster; even if success was achieved, one might find it impossible to extricate oneself.

The fourth kind were the ambitious opportunists who rose in chaos—those who sought to profit from disorder, whether for personal gain or with the true intent to vie for dominion. To the First Scholar of Crime, Ji Wu was just such a man. These types required careful discernment and could not be lumped together.

On a secluded path, a dozen or so men hacked away at the thick branches before them, wielding blades and sticks. One confidant asked, “Sir, nearly all our men have been depleted. What should we do now?”

The First Scholar of Crime glanced at the murky sky, then after a moment replied, “I intend to seek refuge with King Zhao.”

At these words, the dozen men beside him were all taken aback.

It was not that they were ignorant of who King Zhao was—quite the contrary, their knowledge only deepened their confusion.

“Sir, did you not say before that King Zhao was no man for great deeds? That he relied on his martial prowess, acted unpredictably and arrogantly—daring even to plunder the court’s sacred tribute, but was unfit for real plans?”

“Indeed! King Zhao only seeks to wield power and live in luxury, running rampant without restraint. He dares trouble the authorities, but when the court’s army comes, he flees, leaving his men to their fate. How can we serve such a man?”

“I remember the last time King Zhao invited you, you refused without a second thought.”

As they pressed onward, their confusion evident, the First Scholar of Crime replied, “That was then, this is now. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll make other plans by spring. For now, it’s merely a matter of finding shelter.”

He smiled, reassuring them, “Brothers, rest assured, whatever happens, I will not abandon you.”

The King Zhao they spoke of was himself a rebel in Xishan Prefecture, a genuine grandmaster of martial arts. Such grandmasters had trained their bodies to perfection—muscle, bone, flesh all fully tempered, and their inner force deep and abundant. It required talent, effort, resources, and time—mere hard practice would never suffice. Such figures were exceedingly rare; not only in Xishan, but across the neighboring prefectures, there were fewer than five in total—a pitiful number.

Yet Xishan Prefecture boasted just such a figure!

A martial grandmaster at this level was impervious to swords and spears; ordinary weapons could not harm him. With his deep reserves of inner strength, even a formation of a hundred soldiers, no matter how fearless, could scarcely do him harm. Only by encircling him with thousands, leaving no gap, could there be hope of subduing him.

Such a man was hardly bound by the rules of the mundane world.

King Zhao was precisely this sort—whether he was a native of Xishan or even a subject of Qi was unknown; even his true name was uncertain. Yet one thing was clear: he was a genuine martial grandmaster, one who could transcend the court’s authority and was nearly impossible to restrain.

He was alone, his origins a mystery, his background unknown!

The trouble such a man could cause was self-evident.

The first time he appeared in Xishan, he plundered the tribute meant for the Emperor of Qi. Afterwards, he often killed the rich and distributed land. To hear it, it sounded noble.

But therein lay the problem—King Zhao acted entirely on impulse. One day he would slay the wealthy and share their land, but after a few days, bored, he would simply leave.

What happened after that was none of his concern.

If the court sent too few men to subdue him, they could not defeat him; if they sent many, none could catch up to a grandmaster, and what’s more, he would launch savage reprisals. He did not target common soldiers, only those who ordered his capture—he would ensure their deaths.

With a martial grandmaster targeting you, who could hope for peace? Would you sleep surrounded by a thousand soldiers every night for safety? If not, death would come.

At first, a few stubborn officials really did send thousands after him, but he slipped away. Later, he wiped out the families of those who gave the orders, threatening to kill any official who dared try again.

After a few rounds of this, the court simply turned a blind eye. After all, he wasn’t truly raising an army in rebellion; he just used his skills to disregard the authorities.

And why? Because the government had no grandmaster of their own to call upon.

Such martial grandmasters had already touched something otherworldly—acting on whim, beyond the reach of ordinary punishment. So long as they did not stir up too much trouble in important places, the court would mostly let them be.

Of course, if they kept quiet, the court would happily offer riches and honor to keep them content. But the choice was not the court’s to make.

Such lawless, willful men could never be controlled.

Now, as the First Scholar of Crime prepared to seek his refuge, he felt an uneasy restlessness in his heart. There was nothing more fearsome than a madman who was both skilled and powerful.

Still, considering what was known of King Zhao’s deeds, he ought to be someone with whom one could converse.

If he feared danger, would he have spent the last decade at odds with the authorities?

He could always slip away and forge a new life under another name. The world was wide, and his life was not so precious. If that wild man intended to deceive him, not even sleeping with eyes open would keep him safe!