After All, I'm Not a Devil (Seeking Recommendations and Collections!)

This time, the two characters were—

Heaven!

Thunder!

Thunder in the heavens, its force magnificent and immense. It was Huang Shang's most reliable offensive technique.

But now the hexagram had reversed, becoming thunder moving beneath heaven: "All things receive their proper nature, and nothing acts recklessly."

This was the Hexagram of Innocence. Its meaning was not to act rashly or do as one pleased, but to follow the natural order and act along the righteous path.

Translated into reality, Huang Shang was using a scholar's way to tell Murong Fu—

Want to restore your kingdom? Dream on!

Of course, the hexagrams were profoundly mysterious. No one but Huang Shang knew what they meant.

In the eyes of the Murong father and son, a vast, surging force suddenly bore down on them.

Before the Examination Hall in Yong Prefecture, Huang Shang had drawn on the power of the provincial graduate title and the gathered strength of the scholars to kill Ming Cult bandits with one blow.

After that battle, he had realized that the style best suited to him was not techniques and tricks, but overwhelming momentum.

His moves came from insights he had gained from the I Ching's trigrams. Compared with the martial arts techniques passed down through generations and honed through countless trials, they were an invitation to get beaten up.

There was no way they could measure up.

The best strategy was to play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses.

What was he best at right now?

Studying Literary Qi had given him a clue.

As things stood, Literary Qi came partly from one's own learning, and partly from the people's reverence for the imperial examinations.

"Of all pursuits, reading is supreme." The Great Song valued civil officials and looked down on the military to an extreme, fostering a widespread sentiment akin to faith. That was why the statue of Confucius at the Examination Hall was steeped in such powerful Literary Qi.

Originally, no one could draw on this power. The world's vital energy was too thin, and Great Song's scholars could not take a path of literary talent like that of the Sage of Confucianism and Taoism.

But no matter how thin the world's vital energy was, there was more than enough to supply Huang Shang alone.

That was why Literary Qi had surged toward him after he became the provincial graduate.

There was no need to consider the future for now. At this stage, Huang Shang had a unique advantage in wielding this overwhelming force of Literary Qi.

He did not need to specialize in techniques and miss the point by focusing on the packaging. He only had to bring out its essence, and it would be invincible.

And so, at that moment, a boundless pressure sprang from the ordinary-looking tip of his brush, which he pointed forward with effortless ease.

Murong Fu had flourished his sword about in a flashy display, but before he could land a single strike, his legs gave way and he dropped to his knees with a thud.

"What was that?"

Murong Fu was utterly bewildered, and even Murong Bo's eyes filled with terror.

The unknown was fear itself.

Back in Yong Prefecture, he had secretly witnessed Huang Shang battle the Ming Cult.

The Ming Cult disciples were one thing, but that old man had been one of the Four Great Dharma Kings. His martial arts had been no trivial matter.

Yet Huang Shang had killed him with a single blow.

The key was that Huang Shang had not used some legendary martial art or secret technique. He had used a method never seen before.

A scholar's method?

Murong Bo had once looked down on Great Song's scholars, thinking them a bunch of pedantic windbags. But even he couldn't help recalling the rumor now.

The Literary Star had descended to earth!

"With Fu'er by his side, his future is bright!"

Murong Bo thought himself remarkably wise. He reached out and lifted Murong Fu to his feet with a surge of inner energy.

Murong Fu, however, stared blankly into space, unable to recover for a long while.

The more calculating and deep in schemes a person was, the less able he was to withstand such a blow.

His dream of conquering the martial world had shattered.

But under Murong Bo's urging gaze, Murong Fu finally came to his senses as if waking from a dream. He gritted his teeth, bowed, and saluted. "Young master!"

A page was not a disciple, so there was no need for any ceremony.

But as Murong Fu packed his belongings and looked at the resplendent Canhe Villa, sorrow welled up in his heart.

That morning, he had still been the head of the Gusu Murong clan, the master of Canhe Villa, with a thousand mu of fertile fields and the Four Great Manors at his command.

How had he ended up a page by nightfall?

Still, the heroic ambition passed down through the Murong clan ran deep in his bones.

King Goujian of Yue had slept on brushwood and tasted gall. Han Xin had endured the humiliation of crawling between someone's legs...

His name contained the character "restore." Why shouldn't he endure humiliation and bear a heavy burden?

Being a page was lowly, but it put him in the closest position.

One day, he would use Huang Shang to help the Murong Clan gain influence in the Great Song court!

But just as Murong Fu finished packing, dismissed the servants, and prepared to close the villa for a time, a commotion rose outside.

One man's voice was especially loud. "Nonsense, nonsense! The young master is our lord. How can he go and serve as someone else's page? If the young master is a page, then are we not even lower than servants? This won't do—absolutely not!"

The Four Manors had come to demand an explanation.

The ancestors of the Four Great Manors had been Han Chinese. After the Murong Clan came to Jiangnan, Murong Longcheng had taken them in as retainers.

The four men had been utterly loyal and skilled in martial arts, so they had been assigned to establish four manors—Qingyun, Chixia, Jinfeng, and Xuanshuang—with Canhe Villa at their center.

It was practically a system of feudal enfeoffment within a state, revealing the ambition of the Gusu Murong clan.

Before faking his death, Murong Bo had entrusted them with the task of assisting Murong Fu with all their might once he came of age. They had never expected this bolt from the blue: their young master had become a page.

What did that make them, then?

Inside the villa, Huang Shang was admiring the calligraphy, paintings, and literary works collected by generations of the Murong clan.

But the argument outside grew louder and louder. Before long, gusts of wind surged through the air as they began to fight.

Another quarter of an hour passed before Murong Fu led the way inside, followed by four disheveled figures. He cupped his hands toward Huang Shang. "Young master, may I bring them along?"

Huang Shang swept his gaze over them.

All four men were in their twenties. Judging by their appearances and mannerisms, they were essentially younger versions of the future Four Great Retainers.

Deng Baichuan! Gongye Gan! Bao Butong! Feng Bo'e!

Even their defining traits had barely changed.

Deng Baichuan had the deepest and strongest inner energy;

Gongye Gan was exceptionally tall, rough and hearty, with bright, piercing eyes;

Bao Butong hung his head and muttered to himself;

Feng Bo'e was the most defiant, chin held high.

"They're certainly loyal."

Huang Shang gave his verdict.

The inhabitants of the Heavens Consciousness worlds were not mere tools. They had truly lived their lives in those worlds.

Naturally, they changed from childhood to youth and then into middle and old age.

But the Four Great Retainers had stayed the same from beginning to end. That could only mean that they had devoted their entire lives to the Murong clan.

And yet, Murong Fu had ultimately killed Bao Butong over the nonexistent throne of Dali, turning everyone against him. He had brought it all on himself.

But in Huang Shang's eyes, as a Han Chinese, helping the Xianbei restore their kingdom and plunge the world into chaos, unable to tell right from wrong, only to meet a tragic end, was also a consequence he had brought upon himself. He had no one else to blame.

Seeing that Huang Shang neither agreed nor refused, Murong Fu gritted his teeth. "Young master, these four retainers know a great deal about the martial world. If you wish to purge its wickedness in the future, they'll be useful."

Seeing their young master abase himself like this, the Four Great Retainers all flushed with anger, but they lowered their heads.

Huang Shang watched them put on a show, finding it rather amusing.

In truth, if Murong Fu really wanted to send the Four Great Retainers away, he could have done so easily.

He was acting this way for the future.

Murong Fu had lowered himself to become a page, so naturally he wanted to secure the greatest possible benefit.

What if Huang Shang achieved fame and success one day, then kicked Murong Fu to the curb?

That was why he had brought the Four Great Retainers along, ensuring that the people around Huang Shang would all be members of the Murong clan.

"Living like this is exhausting!"

Huang Shang shook his head to himself.

Though he moved between the world of the story's characters and that of the Reincarnators, putting himself at tremendous risk, he also treated it as a splendid journey.

Every success at each stage brought Huang Shang joy and a sense of accomplishment. He could genuinely feel himself growing and changing.

The Murong clan, by contrast, had devoted everything to chasing an impossible goal. Their lives were forever shrouded in the gray gloom of yearning for something they could never attain.

Tragic!

Huang Shang was no devil, after all. Thinking of how Wu Que was probably going mad looking for him right now, he decided to give the Murong clan a chance. "All right. You can come along too!"