Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 51: Song Tiangang

Xu Province. The Song family estate.

Song Tiangang sat hunched in his study, sleepless through the night.

Sheets of paper were scattered across the floor all around him.

A servant entered, picked up one of the pages, and stared in surprise — the sheet was covered edge to edge in dense, intricate writing, every line a polished, elegant composition.

"Your Excellency's literary talent hasn't waned with the years."

"Far from it!"

Song Tiangang shook his head. "My family has produced nine ministers across ten generations. The road ahead was mapped out for me at birth, and writing was never anything more than a formality. After fifteen-odd years governing Xu Province, grinding away body and mind, whatever talent I once had has withered from seven parts down to three."

"So what troubles Your Excellency enough to write through the night?"

"I could read by three," Song Tiangang said. "I began cultivating qi at five. By twelve, I had established my Foundation. Three years later — the Golden Core. Three years after that — the Nascent Soul. At twenty I sat the imperial exams in the capital, and even then I already knew what my life would look like."

"Top of the exam rolls. Posted to govern a province.""Now I'm past fifty, serving as Governor of Xu Province. The capital shines with all its splendor, and I am permitted to return only once every four years to give my report."

"A Nascent Soul cultivator lives eight hundred years. When my time comes, I will either crumble into a handful of dust, or ascend to godhood on the spot."

Song Tiangang exhaled slowly. "But I am a son of a great house. Would the Song family ever consider what I myself want? I already know the answer — when the moment arrives, I will become a deity to shore up the family's foundation, to give something lasting to my descendants."

What he spoke aloud was the truth of his heart.

These past days, Song Tiangang had been burning inside.

He had been waiting for his chance.

He needed only for Song Qiuyue to finish settling the migrants, for the deities to take root in the Hundred Thousand Mountains on the strength of human qi — and then he would mobilize everything to find that strange, mutated divine statue.

Then he would enter the Hundred Thousand Mountains himself.

A single chance at immortality was worth everything he had.

The servant had grown up alongside him since childhood.

Between them was something close to brotherhood.

Yet in the end, master and servant was what they were.

To say nothing of reading each other's hearts.

The servant only offered a light quip: "Your Excellency has a long way to go before ascending to divinity. And who's to say there's no chance you'll be recalled to the capital? Word is the Buddhist nation to the west has been stirring of late. If war breaks out and Your Excellency distinguishes himself, becoming the City God of a full province wouldn't be beyond reach."

"Later, later."

Song Tiangang had actually entertained that thought himself once.

For a Nascent Soul cultivator, becoming a deity was essentially the only path forward — yet even among deities, there were ranks.

Ordinary deities — like those Song Qiuyue had taken with her — were the lowest of the low, forged purely by absorbing incense offerings and the worship of mortals.

Even after ascending, such deities were never truly free.

Song Tiangang, as Governor of Xu Province, needed only to give the word, and no deity in the region would dare disobey.

The only deities Song Tiangang granted any real notice were those formally recognized and titled by the imperial court — spirits like the river god of the Hutuo River, or the mountain god of Blue Ox Mountain.

Above them stood the City Gods.

A City God of a single county.

A City God of a whole province.

The City God of Xu Province was Song Tiangang's Seventh Grand-uncle — the very deity enshrined and venerated within the Song family estate.

Beyond divinity, there was one other path open to Nascent Soul cultivators before they transcended.

That path was official appointment.

A county magistrate bearing an imperial golden seal wielded authority not far below a county's City God.

Song Tiangang, as Governor of Xu Province — with his Seventh Grand-uncle as the provincial City God — had long since made himself the undisputed master of the entire region, answerable to no one.

But none of that had anything to do with ordinary cultivators.

After the Heaven and Earth Mutation, anyone with cultivation aptitude had only to report to the local government office to register, and could then train their way up from Body Tempering through Qi Refining all the way to Foundation Establishment. For the vast majority of cultivators, Foundation Establishment was the end of the road.

To advance to the Golden Core stage required passing an official government examination.

Fail that, and the only remaining option was to throw oneself at the feet of one of the great noble houses, to be picked over and sized up — and if chosen, to serve them as a loyal dog.

Pass the examination, and a cultivator could press on to the Golden Core, and perhaps even to the Nascent Soul.

Clear the Nascent Soul hurdle, and one became eligible to sit the imperial examinations. Spend years polishing one's record in the capital, and a posting as county magistrate might eventually come. With enough luck, a great meritorious deed, and sufficient greasing of the right palms, a formal appointment as mountain or river god was not entirely out of reach.

But no matter how one looked at it.

None of that was what Song Tiangang was chasing now.

"Fate allows a man not even half a say — only in some great dream does he finally understand himself."

Song Tiangang let out a long, weary sigh.

That was the true wish of his heart.

Immortality! Immortality!

Just then, Song Tiangang noticed the servant still standing in place, and frowned. "Was there something else?"

"It concerns Miss Qiuyue," the servant said.

"Qiuyue?" Song Tiangang's frown deepened. "The migrants and deities she wanted — haven't they set out yet?"

"They have, but the earliest they can arrive is tomorrow morning."

If it had only been the deities and cultivators, that would have been one thing — but with several thousand migrants along for the journey, they had to be escorted at a proper pace. He couldn't simply have everyone stuffed into a seed bag. Do that, and half of them would be dead by the time they arrived.

Song Tiangang understood immediately.

"She should be on her way back to the estate by now, shouldn't she?"

"Miss Qiuyue isn't coming back."

The servant shook his head. "She says she wants to stay a few more days — and that she needs additional deities sent to her. Another hundred."

"One hundred!"

"Outrageous!"

Even Song Tiangang's carefully cultivated composure cracked at that. "The Hundred Thousand Mountains are crawling with evil spirits, yes — but I happen to know that over the years, quite a few common folk unwilling to bear children have slipped in there to hide, some of them even bringing local deities with them for protection. A single deity is enough to watch over an entire village. I gave her a hundred deities, and now she wants another hundred? What sort of demon's den did she choose?"

"Please calm yourself, Your Excellency."

"Miss Qiuyue isn't one to make unreasonable demands," the servant said carefully. "She must have her reasons. That's the Hundred Thousand Mountains — evil spirits are the least of it. A true Disaster-class entity could be lurking there. One can never be too cautious."

"Send her fifty more."

Song Tiangang waved a hand, unwilling to argue any further.

With a hundred and fifty deities to her name, she could retreat safely from the mountains even if she encountered a Disaster-class entity.

"Your Excellency…"

"What? Does she want something else?"

"No — nothing else."

The servant shook his head and withdrew.

Song Tiangang had already shown his irritation, and to press further would only invite a scolding for Miss Qiuyue on her return. As the servant carrying the message, this was not his fight to pick.

Leaving the study, the servant shook his head in quiet bewilderment, muttering to himself: 'Miss Qiuyue wants two mountains made of copper coins — that's going to be a nightmare to arrange. But she also wants hawthorn tree seeds and some syrup. Could she actually have a craving for sugar-coated haws?'

'Funny — I distinctly remember that Miss Qiuyue has never touched that sort of street food in her life.'

'Well, the coin mountains are out of the question in the short term, and the Governor would only be angrier if he found out. I'll have the rest sent along with the others.'

……

At that same moment.

In another grand manor elsewhere within Xu Province city.

Pavilions and terraces, a small arched bridge over a winding stream.

Beautiful women everywhere, wine flowing freely.

This was the temporary residence of Wang Taiyu — the Grand Tutor of the Da Kang dynasty.

"A beauty, a beauty!"

Wang Taiyu wore a black cloth tied over his eyes. White-haired, his face creased with age, he stretched his arms out groping blindly, his nose working furiously — seemingly trying to sniff out his quarry.

Around him, the local nobility of Xu Province city lounged and reclined, each with a beautiful woman in his arms.

"Ha! Caught one! Ha ha ha!"

Wang Taiyu lunged and caught a scantily dressed woman in his arms. She let out a playful laugh, flicked her silk scarf, and wriggled free of his grasp.

Wang Taiyu did not seem the least bit put out.

He tore the black cloth from his eyes and pressed both hands beneath his nose, inhaling deeply.

"Fragrant — truly fragrant!"

"Ha ha ha! The Grand Tutor's spirits are high — I drink to you, Grand Tutor!"

"I'll drink to you as well, Grand Tutor!"

The assembled nobles, each with a woman on his arm, raised their cups in a toast.

"Wonderful, wonderful — beauty and wine! Let us drain these cups!"

Wang Taiyu tipped his cup back and drank. Drops of clear liquor splashed onto his robe, and he promptly ripped his collar open, baring his chest with the air of a wild eccentric.

"The Grand Tutor can hold his liquor!"

"Grand Tutor — another cup for you!"

"Wonderful, wonderful — drink, drink!"

Wang Taiyu drained cup after cup, and a deep flush crept across his aged face.

"Grand Tutor, you're drunk."

"No matter — let me step out to relieve myself, and when I return we'll drink some more!"

Wang Taiyu laughed and staggered away. At his level of cultivation, getting truly drunk would require spirits of the highest grade. Ordinary wine was nothing — a single thought could burn it off. But today had been an enjoyable evening.

And so he let himself feel a little drunk.

Wang Taiyu lurched and stumbled his way to the outhouse.

Then he untied his belt and relieved himself.

"Song Tiangang has relocated nearly ten thousand migrants and dispatched a hundred deities — you're certain they were sent into the Hundred Thousand Mountains?" he asked, without glancing around, addressing the outhouse as though someone were hiding in the cesspit below.

"Yes. And today he sent another fifty."

"That's excessive. Far too excessive."

Wang Taiyu finished his business, and something in his expression sharpened and cleared.

As he fastened his belt, he murmured, "I was sent by His Majesty to collect taxes — by rights, this should be none of my concern. But I've been going through this year's accounts, and in recent months Song Tiangang has been quietly using his Governor's seal to redirect I don't know how much of the tax revenue."

"That being the case, I cannot simply ignore it."

Taxes were human qi.

Cultivators needed human qi. Deities needed human qi.

Even the imperial court needed human qi.

Ever since the Da Kang Emperor had paid an enormous price to acquire that divine statue, the taxes had climbed higher each year, spiraling further and further out of control, compounding with every passing season.

Everyone knew this was oil being poured on a burning fire.

One misstep and the inferno would consume everything — dynasty overturned, empire undone.

Knowing was one thing. Being able to stop it was quite another.

Not only did no one want to stop it — everyone was pressing their foot down harder, trying to make the carriage race faster.

"Song Tiangang and I were students in the same year," Wang Taiyu continued quietly. "He has always thought very highly of himself — yet he doesn't know that before I even arrived here, I had already learned everything there is to know about his past."

"He is not a reckless man. For him to act this way so suddenly, there must be some extraordinary gain driving him."

"He's just sent another fifty deities — have someone follow them. No need to stay close. I only need to know where they end up."

"Understood, Grand Tutor."

"My boy."

Wang Taiyu's tone grew heavy with meaning. "I know you look down on your father's methods. But some things can only be done this way. Whether your father does well or poorly — watch it with your own eyes. When the day comes that you find a better way, then do it your way."

"And if your father makes mistakes — at least it's an example of what not to do, isn't it?"

"Grand Tutor, this is official business. Please address me by my post."

Wang Taiyu nodded. "Very well, Left Guard Officer — this matter is of grave importance. The Grand Tutor did not bring many deities from the capital. How many do you require for this task?"

The person who had never shown himself paused briefly, then said quietly, "Only Uncle Yang and I need make the trip."

"Good, good — then let Uncle Yang accompany you, Left Guard Officer, on official business. This Grand Tutor shall return to his wine and his women."

Wang Taiyu muttered through clenched teeth, tucked in his shirt, and walked back out.