Murderous Intent

The summer thunderstorms came on with fierce speed. Just a moment ago, the sky had been clear, but in the blink of an eye, dark clouds blotted out the sun, the wind howled, and raindrops came pelting down, smacking even the great willow tree east of the village until it bent at the waist, seeming ready to snap. It had been three days since Fang Ming's return. Ever since he had set the rewards, everything had gradually fallen into place. The Yin Soldiers drilled every day and had become more diligent in their patrols. According to Wang Liulang's private report, every squad was eager for battle. If Fang Ming hadn't set a rule that ordinary wandering ghosts earned no rewards for heads, the wandering ghosts in the villages might already have suffered.

Fang Ming was quite satisfied with this. After all, eagerness for battle was better than avoiding it.

As for the clerks, with the laborers selected by Guo Sheng and He Dong to bolster their ranks, they finally had just enough people. They could register the believers' household records and incense offerings in every village and compile the statistics.

The four villages under Qingxi Township had a total of 173 households and 864 people.

Among them, 52 had no faith. After all, there were always people who refused to believe. Even if Fang Ming appeared right in front of them, they might not necessarily believe in the gods.

There were 212 casual believers. These were the sort who had worshiped any god they came across in their previous lives. They did not necessarily believe in the Land God, but since everyone else worshiped him, they went along with it. Outside of major festivals, casual believers could provide Fang Ming with one thread of Divine Power only once every two or three days. There were 553 ordinary believers. These were the true believers and Fang Ming's most valuable source of wealth at present; each ordinary believer could provide him with one thread of Divine Power every day, and even more during major festivals.

There were only 47 devout believers. They were the seeds from which priests could be cultivated and promoted to temple attendants. Fang Ming's five current attendants were all among them.

All told, Fang Ming now received around six hundred threads of White Divine Power a day. Unfortunately, with Ferocious Ghosts about, he first had to return half of it to the believers. The rest went entirely into the reserve treasury, leaving him with a net income of about a hundred threads of Divine Power. It all came from helping the villagers fulfill their wishes. He used all kinds of divine arts every day, and even as a god, Fang Ming was exhausted. He was beginning to think about finding some helpers.

As for the wealthy Zhang household in Qingxi Township, there had been no sign of activity since Steward Zhang returned. Fang Ming did not know whether they had swallowed their anger or had other plans. Normally, he could have checked through the believers in Qingxi Township.

But now Zhang Huaizheng had spread the word: the people of Qingxi Township were forbidden from believing in the Land God. At his command, the people of Qingxi Township abandoned their faith. Fang Ming could only smile wryly, though the sight also chilled him as he witnessed the influence that human authority wielded over the Divine Way. If the magistrate of Anchang County ordered the villagers not to believe in the Land God, how many believers would he have left? Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine. He had just used his Qi-Reading Divine Art to take a look and had discovered something new, so he had already sent out his orders.

Thinking of this, he picked up the teacup on the table and took a small sip. Pearl, who was waiting nearby, saw this and hurriedly lifted the teapot to refill it.

Pearl was the maid's name. Fang Ming had kept her in his Divine Domain to sweep the main hall, but she was quick-witted. Once she finished cleaning, she would come over on her own to attend to him.

The clear water in the teapot had also been conjured by Fang Ming with Divine Power. Though he was a god, he did not want to lose the pleasures he had once enjoyed as a human. He had come out to brew and savor tea in the thunderstorm, and found a few moments of leisure in it.

Just then, He Yuqing arrived and said, "Your Reverence is in fine spirits!"

Fang Ming smiled. "Just stealing a moment of leisure amid the bustle." He rose to greet him, then asked, "Have you settled in comfortably, Mr. He?"

He Yuqing smiled wryly and said, "A man newly dead ought to be grateful for even a roof over his head. I, He, have a courtyard to live in, with someone to attend to me. I'm already more than satisfied. Any more, and I fear I'd be tempting fate."

Fang Ming nodded. "Mr. He knows how to be content, which is enviable. Please, have a cup of tea."

Pearl brought over a teacup. Mr. He took a small sip and nodded, looking thoroughly pleased. Then he shook his head, furrowed his brow, and sank into deep thought. Fang Ming looked puzzled and asked, "Why are you so troubled, Mr. He?"

"Forgive me for making a spectacle of myself. I've always loved tea, but since I became a ghost, I haven't brewed any for more than ten days. Now I can even drink tea in my ghostly form—I'm truly overjoyed... Your Reverence's tea has excellent water, no worse than dew collected at dawn. As for the tea leaves, I'm afraid my eyes aren't sharp enough to identify them, so I was pondering over them. My apologies, my apologies..." He Yuqing rose to apologize, then sat back down and took another sip. His eyes narrowed slightly, and an air of comfort and ease seemed to rise around him.

Fang Ming could only smile wryly. He was no more than a pretender to refinement. The kind of bearing Mr. He possessed, rooted deep in his bones, was not something everyone could acquire. It took decades of cultivation and refinement in an aristocratic clan to develop even a hint of it; beyond that, it came down to natural talent. There were tea connoisseurs in this age, some even famous throughout the land, but none could be found in a small county like this.

After chatting with Mr. He for a little while longer, Fang Ming learned that so-called dawn dew was collected specifically in the early morning. It could be classified according to what it was gathered from: rose dew, green-leaf dew, apricot-blossom dew, and so on. But when it came to brewing tea, dew from the flowers of the tea plant itself was best...

As soon as he started talking about this, He Yuqing became animated, leaving Fang Ming amazed. The water Fang Ming conjured with Divine Power was naturally pure, no worse than dawn dew. As for the tea leaves, they were Tieguanyin, the kind he had often drunk in his previous life. It was no surprise that He Yuqing could not identify them.

When He Yuqing seemed content, Fang Ming said, "There's something I'd like to ask your advice about. I hope you won't mind sharing your thoughts." His expression had turned extremely grave.

He Yuqing jolted, coming back to his senses. He smiled wryly to himself. At home, even the servants knew that the old master hated being disturbed while savoring tea; hardly anyone was foolish enough to interrupt him, and over time it had become a habit. Even his wife and sons would never bring up matters at such a time. But this was different, of course. Keeping his expression unchanged, he asked with a smile, "What is it that Your Reverence wishes to know?"

Fang Ming rose and gazed into the distance. Through the canopy above the Divine Domain, he could vaguely see dark clouds crowding the sky, with raindrops the size of beans pounding down without pause. His voice seemed to darken as he let out a long sigh and said, "If I rebel, would I be comparable to Li Black Leopard?"

Crash! A great bolt of thunder struck at that very moment. He Yuqing jolted, and the teacup fell from his hand, smashing against the ground with a crack. Tea splashed all over him, but he paid it no attention. Stunned, he asked, "Why would Your Reverence say such a thing?" He Yuqing had seen only a small glimpse of Fang Ming's power, but he knew it was extraordinary. His subordinates were fierce, and more importantly, he had both civil and military forces and had established a system of governance. That already made him far stronger than Li Black Leopard.

He Yuqing knew that if Fang Ming rebelled, he would practically become a Ghost King in his own right. Wenchang Prefecture would almost certainly be plunged into war, and amid the chaos of battle, He Yuqing did not know whether his family could survive.

If Fang Ming then joined forces with Li Black Leopard of Linjiang Prefecture, and Ghost Kings from other prefectures intervened, the ambitious men throughout Wu Prefecture would surely seize the chance to make their move. There were plenty of clever people: one place in chaos, and they would wait and see; two places in turmoil, and the time to act would have come. Wu Prefecture would inevitably be engulfed in flames of war. Though the court could still send in a large army to suppress the rebellion, it would cost a fortune, and nine out of ten households in Wu Prefecture would be left empty.

Fang Ming smiled. Seeing He Yuqing's pale face, he already knew the answer. He also noticed that Pearl had collapsed to the floor, and could not help giving a self-deprecating smile. It seemed the court still held some authority. He reassured them, saying, "I was only speaking offhand. I won't actually do it." At least, not for now.

He Yuqing steadied himself and said, "Why would Your Reverence make such a joke? You should know that every word and deed of the mighty resonates with Fortune and can easily bring about all manner of consequences." His voice still trembled.

Fang Ming nodded. "It seems the aristocratic clans have some knowledge of the Way of Fortune as well. I'll have to ask your advice about it in the future." He paused, then continued, "I've already made an enemy of Zhang Qingyun, the Ancestral Spirit of Qingxi Township. You saw what happened a few days ago. If we keep dragging this out, something serious is bound to happen. Better to strike first!"

He Yuqing let out a breath of relief, but after thinking it over, broke out in a cold sweat and trembled all over.

He understood that when Ancestral Spirits sought to destroy one another's temples, it was a feud to the death. Fang Ming had already made up his mind to kill, and there was no way he could talk him out of it.

But after Fang Ming killed Zhang Qingyun, what would he say when investigators came from above? Fang Ming's origins were already somewhat unclear. If the officials who came were especially hard-line and the two sides came to blows, then whether Fang Ming killed them on the spot or the envoys returned and branded him a demon, Fang Ming would truly have only one path left: rebellion.

Of course, he could also try to persuade Fang Ming to leave. But Mr. He was in no position to do that. If a ruler was told to abandon his own hard-won domain without fighting and flee, whoever tried to persuade him would basically be signing his own death warrant.

He thought it over, but in the end could not bring himself to say anything. After a long silence, he managed to squeeze out, "I hope Your Reverence will consider this carefully." After all, White Cloud Temple stood guard over Wu Prefecture.

A bitter smile tugged at Fang Ming's lips. It wasn't as if he wanted things to come to this. Unfortunately, the other side was already preparing to strike. He did not know exactly what they intended, but his Qi-Reading Divine Art showed it clearly: a mass of gray-black cloud energy was brewing in the direction of Qingxi Township, its intent hostile to him. It seemed they had spent the past few days making inquiries, learned a little about Fang Ming's strength, and were on the verge of making their move.

But Fang Ming did not regret it. Even if he bypassed Qingxi Township and developed his power in another township, what then? If he wanted to rise higher, he would eventually have to face the city. Not to mention, the other two townships were far away. The three townships formed a triangle around Anchang County, and most villages dealt primarily with their own township. Fang Ming had built his foundation here; there was no other path for him.

This could also test the county's reaction and provide a useful reference for his future plans. Besides, he had also planted He Song as a pawn; he just did not know whether it would work.

If everything went as badly as possible, then perhaps rebellion would be his only choice. But this was the wrong time for it; he would certainly fail. Fang Ming had arranged a fallback plan that would keep him safe. But even if he moved somewhere else and lay low for decades, once a new dynasty took over, he would still have to face the county seat. It was the core of the most basic human administration, and the Divine Way could not develop without it.

With his decision made, he looked at the storm overhead and felt that it still wasn't fierce enough. He wanted to shout, "Let the storm rage all the more fiercely!" But remembering the dignity expected of a lord, he held back, drained his tea, and strode out without another word to He Yuqing.

In front of the Land God Temple, Wang Liulang and Xie Jin stood solemnly, with two squads each behind them. The downpour beat down, yet not one of them moved.

Fang Ming emerged, and everyone saluted him in military fashion. "We pay our respects to our lord!"

Fang Ming threw back his head and laughed. "Seeing this scene makes me want to go out and kill a few men! Would you come with me?"

All the Yin Soldiers knelt. "Yes!"