“You damned monk, you broke your vows!”
“Shallow! Truly shallow!” The little monk blushed, suddenly stood up in anger, and stomped hard.
“Oh? So you were wrongly accused?” Mu Qingbai asked curiously.
The little monk sighed, raised his head slightly, and said gently, “That day, I passed by an alley and saw her.”
“She had a gambling father, a sick mother, a baby brother in swaddling clothes, and a little sister who was still very young.”
“Buddha is compassionate and saves all beings! If it were you, could you ignore someone so broken? Could you turn a blind eye to the mud covering her entire body?”
Mu Qingbai sighed. What a talent. To romanticize visiting a courtesan like this—this monk was truly something.
“And then?”
“Then… the constables burst in.”
“…Impressive!”
Mu Qingbai turned and saw Yin Qiubai standing at the doorway, looking deeply doubtful of her life choices.
“Hey, why are you back?”
Yin Qiubai still didn’t know how to respond.
Just then, the jailer arrived and shouted into the cell, “Meal time!”
With that, he tossed a moldy steamed bun to the little monk’s feet and rudely placed a bowl of mushy porridge on the ground.
“How’s one portion enough? There are three of us!” the little monk complained as he bit into the bun.
The jailer ignored him and opened the food slot to slide in a tray.
The little monk’s eyes widened—three meat dishes and a cup of wine.
Mu Qingbai patted his backside, carried the tray over, and sat down.
The little monk was even more upset, “You’re discriminating against monks! Why does he get meat and wine?”
Mu Qingbai replied calmly, “It’s a death row meal. Want some? We can share—I don’t mind.”
The little monk froze, turned his head, and laughed dryly, “No no no, you enjoy it alone!”
Suddenly, the jailer opened the cell door and personally brought in a short table, placing it in front of Yin Qiubai. He left with a fawning smile.
Mu Qingbai and the little monk both stared in disbelief.
The table wasn’t large, and there were only three dishes, but each was exquisitely prepared. There was also a cup of tea that gave off an extraordinary fragrance. A stick of incense slowly burned in the incense burner.
Mu Qingbai suddenly found the roast chicken in front of him less appetizing. Looking at Yin Qiubai, he hesitated.
“Shall we?” Yin Qiubai gestured invitingly.
Mu Qingbai swallowed hard, “Wait, buddy… are you being executed by slow slicing?”
The little monk, who had just reached out, immediately retracted his hand in a trembling panic.
Slow slicing… that was far worse than a simple beheading!
Yin Qiubai couldn’t help laughing, “This isn’t a farewell meal. I paid for it.”
Mu Qingbai suddenly understood and muttered under his breath, “Rich people have such strange fetishes—actually enjoy squatting in prison.”
“Kh—kh—kh…” Yin Qiubai choked on her tea, coughing repeatedly.
But she didn’t explain. Since Mu Qingbai misunderstood, she just let him.
Mu Qingbai chuckled and ended up giving half his roast chicken to the monk who’d broken his vows.
One portion of a death row meal definitely wasn’t enough for two people.
So Mu Qingbai set his sights on Yin Qiubai’s “slow slicing feast.”
Yin Qiubai generously shared her “slow slicing feast” with the two.
But the little monk didn’t dare touch it.
“What now? You already ate the death row meal, what are you scared of?”
The little monk said sheepishly, “Such fine delicacies… I’m not worthy of them. I’m afraid they’ll bring me trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hah, what kind of logic is that?”
“It’s precisely because I don’t know that it’s scary. After all, you two—one’s a condemned criminal about to be executed, the other’s a mysterious noble lady. I’m just a monk who broke his vows.”
Mu Qingbai rolled his eyes, “I’m a dead man walking. What kind of trouble could I possibly bring you?”
“You don’t seem ordinary. The way you speak is broad-minded. Even if your blood splashes on my face when you’re executed, it might haunt my dreams.”
Mu Qingbai laughed, “You monk, you look clean and pure, but you sure know how to talk! Well then… young lady, shall we drink?”
Yin Qiubai looked at Mu Qingbai’s wine, lost in thought.
“Fate brought us together. My name is Mu Qingbai.”
“…Bai Qiuyin.”
Yin Qiubai hesitated for a moment but still chose not to reveal her true identity.
The little monk smiled, watching the two of them, “I’ll be out in a couple of days. I’d rather skip this fate.”
Yin Qiubai gave him a deep look, then turned to Mu Qingbai, “Young Master Mu, you just said the root of chaos in the world isn’t war but natural disasters. But can disasters truly be stopped by human hands?”
“Who says they can’t? You must know—where there’s a will, there’s a way. Man can conquer nature!”
Yin Qiubai was stunned by those words. Even the little monk couldn’t help turning to look.
“How… how can one conquer it?”
Mu Qingbai slowly stood up and looked down at Yin Qiubai, his gaze complex.
In this era where fate was everything, almost everyone believed that the will of heaven couldn’t be defied, and that disasters were divine punishment.
But as someone who had received modern education, Mu Qingbai couldn’t accept that.
Yin Qiubai wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw disappointment in Mu Qingbai’s eyes—a kind of frustration like iron that couldn’t be forged into steel.
“When there are floods, manage the rivers. Reinforce the dikes so they don’t collapse. Build drainage systems to redirect the waters.”
“When there’s drought, develop waterways, build dams and sluice gates. Just like commanding troops, transfer water from abundant areas to arid lands.”
“Why can’t that succeed?”
Mu Qingbai shook his head, picked up his wine jug, and returned to his straw bed.
Yin Qiubai and the little monk were speechless for a long time.
River management—this idea wasn’t new. But such massive projects were incredibly difficult to execute. The cost was astronomical, and success wasn’t guaranteed.
So even if people had such thoughts, they never dared act on them.
Yet from Mu Qingbai’s mouth, such an impossible dream sounded so simple, so attainable.
Such vision—rare in this world!
“Let’s set that aside for now. The human heart is unpredictable. If what you said really happens—if the Soldiers and Generals drape the Dragon Robe over a general—what then?”
Mu Qingbai took a sip of wine, turned to Yin Qiubai, and said, “It’s true, people’s hearts are uncontrollable. If someone does rebel, it might not start a new chaotic era, but it would certainly make the emperor sleepless with worry, since others might follow suit.”
Yin Qiubai nodded. That was likely the female emperor’s concern as well.
“There are two solutions. First, weaken military power, elevate the civil service, and have civil officials enter the army to supervise.”
“The second?” Yin Qiubai interrupted.
Mu Qingbai shrugged, “The second option is to have scholars educate the military.”
Yin Qiubai frowned, “How’s that any different from the first?”
“Huge difference! The first gives civil officials higher authority than military officers. In wartime, those officials might meddle and even command the troops.”
Yin Qiubai could already imagine the scenario.
If a bunch of utterly useless scholars started barking orders in the army camp, even a favorable battle could turn disadvantageous in an instant. And if the battle were already disadvantageous, it’d only get worse!
“That’s why a school must be established.”