The court lackeys of the eight-hour workday

Chapter 282 The Pinnacle, Ascending the Peak, Gazing at the Moon

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the twenty-fourth year of the Jiajing reign.

Chenshi.

It was getting late, and sunlight was streaming into the room through the window lattice. After breakfast, the sect leaders and elders returned to their rooms, sat at the table, drank tea, regulated their internal energy, and listened intently to the sounds outside.

Although this grand event was nominally a moon-viewing banquet, no one would actually wait up to see that damn moon in the evening. Whatever the garrison commander wanted to do, it certainly wouldn't be as simple as waiting until sunset to go up to the mountaintop for a drink and a chat.

Almost everyone tacitly lowered their voices, and the only sound in the entire building was the rustling of leaves in the mountain wind.

suddenly.

Swish, swish, swish, swish—

The rapid footsteps, mingled with the crisp clinking of armor against scabbards, drew near in moments, then spread like a tide through the courtyard.

Tuk Tuk.

There was a knock on the door.

The doors opened, and the Imperial Guards, clad in armor and with long swords at their waists, clasped their hands in greeting and said almost identical things to the leaders of the various major sects.

"The garrison commander has ordered that all of you attend the banquet on the mountain before noon. The banquet will begin at 1-3 PM. You may go up the mountain with someone you know."

"Don't delay the time."

After speaking, the Imperial Guards did not leave, but instead dispersed along the path at the top of the mountain. Every ten steps, two guards stood on either side of the path, their hands on the hilts of their swords, staring straight ahead.

Everyone in the martial arts world understands this.

The main event is about to begin.

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Mount Song, the Central Peak, is a continuous mountain range with a total of 72 peaks, of which Mount Taishi and Mount Shaoshi each have 36 peaks. The Songshan School is located in the middle section of the main peak, Junji Peak, and the location of this moon-viewing banquet is at the summit.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, the grass was mostly green, but some leaves had already turned yellow. Fallen leaves carpeted the mountain path, making a rustling sound as you stepped on them.

The summit of Junji Peak.

The surrounding prefectures and counties urgently dispatched personnel and have already set up the place. There are guides at the south entrance who will inquire about the identity of any martial arts practitioners who come up, and then lead them to a seat.

By noon, the seats on both the east and west sides were already full.

Although it was a grand event that brought together almost the entire martial arts world, not many people were qualified to be seated. The two capitals and thirteen provinces of Da Shuo had an average of two or three first-rate sects and a dozen or so second-rate sects per province. With the sect leaders and accompanying elders, there were only four or five hundred people in total, so it did not feel crowded after everyone was seated.

Those without seats could only stand on the outside.

Those who could come here could all be considered "important people," and for a moment no one was in a hurry to speak, their eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

The first thing I looked at was the seats.

The seating was divided into two groups on both the east and west sides. The group closer to the center had more spacious low tables and cushions, enough for two or three people. However, the group further out was much narrower, only accommodating one person at a time, and the accompanying disciples had to stand to the side.

First-rate forces sit at wide tables, while second-rate forces sit at narrow tables. This seating arrangement so clearly and openly exposes what is hidden beneath the veneer of chivalry and code of conduct.

Many people looked displeased, especially some second-rate forces that had reached a certain level of "strength" but lacked "reputation." They couldn't help but look at the figures ahead and slowly rub their weapons.

Because they knew that the seats could probably be changed again.

In the center of the two seating areas was a huge arena. Around the arena, weapons were displayed in abundance. Swords, spears, halberds, axes, hooks, and even unorthodox weapons such as sickles, fans, claws, and judge's pens were all on display.

What is the purpose of the arena?

For an individual, it might be a chance to spar, make friends, or settle scores. But for a martial arts faction, it's mostly used to divide up profits.

Who will ultimately sit in these seats will almost certainly be determined by who sits on the arena.

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere had changed. Everyone was scanning the backs of the figures ahead, and everyone was also feeling the cold gazes directed at them from behind.

Some have even turned their attention to the north.

There is a high platform there.

On the high platform, there were ten chairs, and six people were sitting there.

Seated at the far west is Yongjie, who is slowly turning his prayer beads with his eyes closed. Beside him is Zhiqing, the leader of Wudang Sect, who is talking in hushed tones with Lao Qifeng and Yu Qing.

Bu Ying, the current "Sword King" of Sword King Pavilion, sat with his eyes closed in a chair, secretly practicing the "Mind Cleansing Sword" technique. And sitting beside him was—Liu Chengxuan!?
"That's Liu Chengxuan from the Huanhua Sword Sect, right?"

"It's him!"

"What right does he have to sit there!"

"How the hell do I know!"

The martial arts practitioners in the audience erupted in uproar.

Liu Chengxuan heard his name called, and his hand trembled slightly in his sleeve. He instinctively thought of getting up and turning around to say, "Maybe I should go down."

Suddenly, a sword appeared beside him and was placed in front of him.

"Sword King" Bu Ying was looking at him.

"You... are you a swordsman?"

Liu Chengxuan nodded.

"You too?"

Liu Chengxuan was stunned.

"What do you mean, sir...?"

"I mean, you think you're worthy of being called a swordsman?"

Bu Ying's voice was as sharp as his sword.

"You think you can just get lost after being glanced at a few times?"

"Give me your sword; you are not worthy to hold one."

Having said that, he raised his hand and extended it in front of Liu Chengxuan.

"If it's in the hands of someone like you, it's better to make it into a hoe."

Liu Chengxuan's face suddenly flushed red, and he gripped his sword hilt tightly, refusing to move. Bu Ying stared directly into his eyes, and although he wasn't circulating his inner energy, Liu Chengxuan still felt as if a sword was pressed against his throat, getting closer and closer.

After a while, Liu Chengxuan was covered in cold sweat.

"Ahem, what are you two doing?"

An Ziyang's soft laughter came from behind them.

Bu Ying abruptly looked away.

An Ziyang walked slowly behind Liu Chengxuan, placed his hand on Liu's shoulder, and looked at Bu Ying with a smile.

"What were you doing just now?"

Bu Ying didn't answer, but just frowned.

“Sword King, I must remind you that this is not the Sword King Pavilion. Do not bring the rules of your Sword King Pavilion here.”

An Ziyang smiled.

"Here, there is only one rule."

“He says whoever sits here can sit here. Similarly, he says whoever is worthy to carry a sword is worthy to carry a sword; if he thinks someone is not worthy to carry a sword, even if he is the greatest swordsman in the world, he must put down his sword.”

An Ziyang's smile gradually turned cold.

"Your sword is broken, so you want to collect the swords of other swordsmen and use their sword intent to reforge your own sword. We don't care about that. If you have the ability to go to Wudang Mountain and take away the sword passed down by Master Zhang Sanfeng, we can hand over the Tang Clan's territory to your Sword King Pavilion."

An Ziyang pointed to Liu Chengxuan's sword.

"But this sword won't do."

He chuckled mischievously.

"Senior Sword King, you wouldn't want your sword to break again, would you?"

Bu Ying frowned and looked behind her.

The ten seats on the high platform already offered a commanding view of most of the martial arts practitioners below. Behind these ten chairs, the platform was raised further, creating a completely elevated platform overlooking everyone.

On the platform, there was a huge chair, surrounded by shelves, with semi-transparent gauze hanging down, so that people outside could only vaguely see the figures inside.

The man was leaning back in his chair, one hand supporting his face and the other resting on the armrest, without making any movement, as if he were taking a break.

But Bu Ying could sense that after An Ziyang walked over, a gaze was cast over him, looking at his sword with malice.

Bu Ying gripped the hilt of the sword tightly.

The swordsmen of Sword King Pavilion all go to the Sword Tomb to receive their own sword embryo when they start learning swordsmanship. Then they nurture and forge it with their own sword intent. As the swordsmen improve, their swords will become sharper and sharper.

The swordsmen of the Sword King Pavilion possess only one sword. Rather than a sword they carry, it is more accurate to say that it is their sole companion on the path of swordsmanship.

But four months ago, Bu Ying's sword broke.

It was smashed in half by someone's fist.

The instigator of this whole affair was An Ziyang, who was grinning maliciously in front of him. And the one who broke his sword was Li Miao, who was sitting on the platform.

Li Miao's eyes were still lingering on his sword.

Bu Ying's fingers, gripping the sword hilt, had turned white.

After a long while, he gritted his teeth, put his sword back into his robes, shifted his body, and used his back to block Li Miao's gaze from darting towards his sword, then fell silent.

An Ziyang then smiled and patted Liu Chengxuan on the shoulder.

"Sect Leader Liu, it is the Commander of the Garrison's permission for you to sit here. Please take your seat with peace of mind."

"Alright, everyone's almost here. I'm going to say a few words. You just sit here and don't say anything, no matter what happens. The garrison commander will handle it."

Liu Chengxuan glanced gratefully in Li Miao's direction. Through the light veil, he vaguely saw Li Miao wave at him. He nodded and sat down comfortably in the chair.

An Ziyang walked slowly to the front of the platform and stood with his hands behind his back.

Gradually, the sounds below faded away, until finally, all was silent. All the martial artists quieted down, raising their heads to look at An Ziyang, waiting for him to speak. "Ahem."

An Ziyang cleared his throat, about to start reciting his lines, but suddenly fell silent.

Eight months.

It has only been eight months since he met Li Miao.

Eight months ago, he was a dissolute playboy whom people in the martial arts world looked down upon. The so-called "Young Master Lingxu" was only used by those who made money off him. When people in the martial arts world saw him, they privately called him "Young Master Kidney Deficiency".

His methods cannot be exposed, so he has no way to legitimize himself.

Over time, he himself got used to being looked down upon, used to his shameless demeanor, used to his kind smile, and used to the flattery and backstabbing attitude of people in the underworld.

But now—he looked down.

Everyone, the entire martial arts world, is watching him.

The leaders of the major sects, those important figures he couldn't even dream of meeting eight months ago, were keeping their mouths shut, waiting for him to speak.

No one will call him "Young Master with Kidney Deficiency" anymore. Nowadays, people in the martial arts world will only bow to him with both respect and fear, and respectfully call him "Lord Commander".

He had been wandering the world since he was twelve, and after fifteen years of bloodshed and relentless searching, he had finally obtained what he sought in just eight months.

All of this is because of one person.

He tilted his head slightly and glanced behind him out of the corner of his eye.

An Ziyang could feel a gaze sweeping over him, watching him.

With that gaze supporting him, he dared to do anything.

"Everyone."

The powerful true energy of the Wedding Dress Divine Skill amplified An Ziyang's voice, echoing in everyone's ears.

"Before we begin the banquet, I would like to express my gratitude to everyone for traveling such a long distance to attend. On behalf of my lord, the Garrison Commander, I thank you all."

He casually clasped his hands in a fist salute.

The martial arts practitioners in the audience cursed inwardly.

"Bullshit! Hypocrisy!"

"Didn't you, the Imperial Guards, come to our door threatening us? Didn't you say 'you'll bear the consequences'?!"

"Stop pretending!"

They were thinking the same thing in their hearts, but their faces were all smiles.

"Hey, we commoners are already incredibly fortunate to be able to attend the banquet hosted by the Garrison Commander. There's no need for you to be so polite, Commander!"

"Yes, yes!"

"Long live the Garrison Commander!"—This was something he was used to saying to eunuchs, and he blurted it out, but no one corrected him for the time being.

An Ziyang waved his hand.

"That's enough with the pleasantries for now."

"The moon-viewing banquet is scheduled for 7 PM, but it's almost noon now, so I won't waste any more time."

An Ziyang said loudly.

"My garrison commander's idea is that there is one more thing that you all need to resolve yourselves before the banquet begins, so as to avoid causing trouble later and making the court look bad."

He raised his hand, directing everyone's gaze toward the central arena.

"When you all came up, you should have seen this arena."

All the martial arts practitioners sat up straight.

An Ziyang said loudly.

"For this grand gathering, my garrison commander has invited heroes from all over the world, but to be honest, there is one thing that has troubled my garrison commander for a long time. That is—the seating."

"really!"

The martial arts practitioners in the audience, especially those sitting at the back, were immediately intrigued.

An Ziyang continued.

"To be honest, a lot has happened in the martial arts world in the past six months, and everyone is in turmoil. Some people have taken advantage of this to rise to power, while others have gradually fallen. The current generation of people are very different from the generation of people six months ago, but their reputation and ranking should still be based on the consensus of the martial arts world six months ago."

“My garrison commander thinks this is not good.”

"But if the imperial court were to personally arrange a seating order for everyone, it would be difficult for you all to accept it."

"Therefore—why don't we let you all arrange it yourselves!"

Kara la la la—

Several Imperial Guards pushed a huge object covered with red cloth slowly to An Ziyang's back.

An Ziyang took a step back, raised his hand, and grabbed the red cloth.

“My garrison commander has never been fond of fighting, but only of resolving conflicts.”

he said with a smile.

"Gentlemen, your struggles in the martial world are bound to result in numerous deaths and injuries, and the martial world may not even acknowledge it. My Commander's idea is that, since everyone is here today, we should directly establish a ranking!"

wow-

As he spoke, An Ziyang pulled hard!
The ten-foot-wide red cloth suddenly fluttered, propelled by the true energy of the Wedding Dress Divine Skill, and soared into the air, casting a huge shadow on the ground.

All eyes were focused on what was under the red cloth.

"Hiss—this is!"

Underneath the red cloth was a wooden board, a full ten feet wide, painted red, with over a hundred plaques hanging above it. Six of these plaques hung high above, bearing the words "Shaolin," "Wudang," "Beggar Clan," "Grass Canal Clan," "Sword King Pavilion," and "Huanhua Sword Sect."

Next to these six plaques, two large characters are written in gold lacquer with a flowing, dragon-and-phoenix style: “Peak”!
A guess arose in the minds of all the martial arts practitioners, and they hurriedly searched through the more than one hundred wooden plaques, finally finding the name of their own sect. They looked at the side of their plaque again and, sure enough, saw two large characters again.

Below the "supreme peak" lies the "ascent of the summit"!
Below the summit lies the view of the moon!
More than a hundred wooden plaques stood side by side, layer upon layer, arranged on the wooden planks, adding fuel to the fire in the hearts of the people of the martial arts world.

"Today's moon-viewing banquet is not as simple as just having everyone drink."

An Ziyang said loudly.

"I want to make it clear to you all that when the banquet officially begins, your seats will not be changed—neither the distance from my family's garrison commander nor the distance from the imperial court will be changed."

"If you wish to take a step forward on this board, you can see who is sitting in front of you and whether their position is convincing to you."

"If you disagree—"

An Ziyang pointed towards the arena.

"Let him come down, witnessed by all the heroes of the world!"

"Today's fate rests entirely on your own!"

"In matters of the martial world, it is fairest to settle them with swords and spears!"

"Please make yourselves at home!"

After saying that, An Ziyang turned around, seemingly about to leave.

Suddenly, as if he remembered something, he turned around abruptly, a meaningful smile appearing on his face.

"Oh, there's one more thing I forgot to mention."

"For this grand event, my garrison commander only invited sects, but didn't have time to invite any independent experts. Fortunately, most of them have arrived, but none of them have seats yet."

He looked at the crowd standing around his seat.

"Esteemed masters and seniors who belong to no particular sect, I have some blank wooden plaques here..."

An Ziyang reached into his pocket, pulled out a wooden plaque, and waved it.

"If any of you wish to sit down, you may try taking down the wooden plaques of other people and writing your own name on them."

"There's no need to challenge others or worry about breaking the rules. Today, I, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, vouch for you all, and everyone has a chance to step onto the stage—a chance that my Commander-in-Chief is bestowing upon you."

Finally, An Ziyang opened his arms and looked at the lone experts.

"One last thing."

"Once you're on this board, you'll be a master of solitude."

"You can come to the Embroidered Uniform Guard and be served a bowl of imperial grain."

coax!!--

The sound of voices suddenly exploded.

At the same time, some people in the audience looked grim as they gazed at the blurry figure hidden behind the veil on the stage.

He secretly thought.

"To remove the fuel supply from the source and bring about a complete transformation."

"And—take them for our own use!"

"From today onwards, all sects and experts who have taken a step forward by relying on this moon-viewing banquet will no longer have any doubts about this Jinyiwei Commander, and will even take the initiative to protect him."

"The people's hearts that we've painstakingly stirred up over the past six months by using the Embroidered Uniform Guard's killings are about to be torn apart! The scheme isn't clever, but when it's used to leverage the prevailing trend, it's unstoppable... Tsk!"

He looked at the wooden plank and suddenly sneered.

"But what if someone wants to challenge the Huanhua Sword Sect? How will you defend it? How will you win everyone's respect?"

He slowly stroked the weapon.

"You're too arrogant."

"This is your biggest weakness."

(End of this chapter)