Wife, Protect Me! - Chapter 14 - The Mastermind

Chang’an County Office.

Li Nuo gazed at the two lines of text on the Law Codex, his heart surging with excitement.

“Name: Li Nuo.”

“Lifespan: Twenty-six days.”

This morning, his remaining lifespan had been only ten days, but now it had increased to nearly a month.

Six of those days came from Cui Ze’s three-year imprisonment and exile of three thousand li. Whether there were one hundred cane strikes or not had no effect on lifespan increase or decrease. As for the death sentence of the husband-killing woman, it added a full ten days to Li Nuo’s lifespan—the largest lifespan increase from a verdict so far.

Great Xia’s punishments were divided into five levels: flogging, caning, imprisonment, exile, and death.

Based on Li Nuo’s experiments thus far, only imprisonment or higher could increase his lifespan. The maximum imprisonment in Great Xia was three years, and the farthest exile was three thousand li, so imprisonment and exile could add up to three days of lifespan, while death sentences added ten days.

Calculating this way, a life sentence or exile of ten thousand li would actually be more cost-effective. However, since prisoners also needed to eat and long-term confinement wasted food, Great Xia’s imprisonment cap was three years. If three years of imprisonment wasn’t enough, exile was added. If even that wasn’t sufficient, it was better to just execute them.

As for why the farthest exile was only three thousand li—beyond that was no longer Great Xia’s territory.

Pei Zhe had been standing beside Li Nuo the whole time, watching him write various different verdicts, each with distinct penalties. Although he didn’t understand why Li Nuo was doing this, there were many things about Li Nuo that puzzled him.

No wonder his handwriting was so good—he loved writing so much.

Strangely, despite his excellent penmanship, he didn’t know too many characters. Some behaviors of a fool were truly hard for normal people to comprehend.

Writing with a brush was truly laborious. Li Nuo set down the brush and was about to rub his sore wrist when a melodious tune suddenly reached his ears.

The music was melodious, plaintive and expressive, though it was unclear what instrument was being played. At its climax, it abruptly stopped, leaving listeners hanging. Li Nuo walked to the doorway and looked around. Pei Zhe asked, “What are you looking for, Young Master?”

Li Nuo said puzzledly, “Someone was playing the qin just now—didn’t you hear it?”

Pei Zhe smiled and said, “Of course I heard it. That person was performing ‘Cloud Gate,’ one of the Six Arts. The segment just now came from Chapter Nine, Section Seven of Cloud Gate, played with the Confucian Righteous Qi. The music is extremely penetrating—sometimes it sounds as if it’s right by your ear, yet it’s actually miles away. However, the melody sounds somewhat unfamiliar. I wonder which first-realm Confucian scholar is practicing the Six Arts in preparation for the Imperial Examination. Playing music with True Qi is forbidden within Chang’an city; he must have been careless…”

Li Nuo was slightly surprised. “Lord Pei is also knowledgeable in music?”

Pei Zhe stroked his beard, speaking with a hint of pride, “I am also a disciple of Confucianism, having studied the Six Arts since childhood. I know a little about music as well.”

In truth, “a little” was an understatement. The Imperial Examination tested the “Six Arts.” While not all Confucian disciples were masters of music, those who passed the examination and earned their names on the golden list were invariably proficient in all six arts: rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. Not a single one was beyond their grasp, and none were left unmastered.

The Imperial Examination back then was far more competitive than it is now. Candidates numbered in the hundreds of thousands, yet only a few dozen could become Presented Scholars and secure official positions—truly one in ten thousand, the cream of the crop. While any one of them might not have reached the pinnacle in every art, none had any obvious weaknesses.

However, after the Imperial Examination, these skills were seldom used. Neglect led to gradual deterioration.

When the Magistrate of Chang’an was mentioned, the first impression that surfaced in Li Nuo’s mind was one of timidity and unreliability.

Yet, despite seeming unreliable, the magistrate had an encyclopedic knowledge of the Great Xia Law, able to cite precise statutes at a moment’s notice. With just a snippet of music, he could identify the chapter and section, deduce the performer’s identity and realm, and even predict their intentions. This left Li Nuo deeply impressed.

Li Nuo recalled Steward Wu once saying that the Confucian path involved cultivating the self, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world. It nurtured the Righteous Qi, making one fearless against all methods. But he had yet to witness it himself. So, he asked the Magistrate of Chang’an, “May I ask which realm Lord Pei’s Righteous Qi has reached?”

Confucian cultivation revolves around the Six Arts, and their abilities are closely tied to them.

The first three realms focus on nurturing Qi, offering little offensive power but strong defense. With the Righteous Qi protecting the body, it can neutralize the powers of other schools.

Upon reaching the Fourth Realm, a qualitative transformation occurs. One can condense a cloud of Righteous Qi to fly through the air, corresponding to the “charioteering” aspect of the Six Arts.

At the Fifth Realm, one comprehends the Righteous Voice. Using ordinary musical instruments, they can inflict widespread area damage, corresponding to the “music” aspect of the Six Arts.

The Sixth Realm marks the stage of a Demisaint in Confucianism. One can condense arrows of Righteous Qi from the void, corresponding to the “archery” aspect of the Six Arts. Even Sixth Realm Martial Artists would retreat at the sight of such power.

It was said that the Confucian cloud of Righteous Qi allowed for prolonged flight, covering thousands of miles in a single day—a feat even Martial Artists in the Object Manipulation Realm couldn’t achieve. At most, they could fly for a quarter of an hour before their True Qi was completely depleted.

Hearing Li Nuo’s words, Pei Zhe was taken aback and silently lowered his head.

Li Nuo looked at him and said, “Don’t be stingy, Lord Pei. I just want to see it for myself. You’ve been cultivating for so long; you must have reached the Confucian Fourth Realm, right? Condense a cloud of Righteous Qi and let me have a look…”

…

A short while later, at the entrance of the Chang’an County Government office.

Before boarding the carriage, Steward Wu cleared his throat lightly and reminded Li Nuo, “Young master, when you meet Confucian scholars in the future, it’s best not to ask them which realm their Haoran True Qi has reached. It’s quite impolite…”

Li Nuo looked puzzled. “Why?”

Steward Wu explained helplessly, “The Confucian path emphasizes cultivating oneself, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world. These nine words are easy to say but difficult to practice. Young people, fearless like newborn calves, uphold justice in their hearts and naturally nurture Haoran True Qi. However, once they enter officialdom, few can maintain their original intentions over time. Without their original intentions, True Qi becomes difficult to advance and may even regress. Some officials, after long service, cannot gather even a trace of Haoran True Qi…”

“…”

So in this world, both Confucianism and Legalism cultivation came with certain invisible constraints.

Legalism faced objective restrictions—practicing it would offend many powerful nobles and encounter external obstacles.

Confucianism faced subjective limitations—maintaining one’s original intentions for a period was easy, but doing so for a lifetime was difficult. Especially in officialdom, faced with various temptations, how many could preserve their pure original intentions?

“Cultivating oneself, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world” was the highest ideal for Confucian disciples. The ideal was plump, but reality was skinny. Those who chanted these phrases daily, once they entered officialdom and became vested interests, found it hard to return to their beginnings.

This manifested in their cultivation as stagnation or even significant regression.

Other schools grew stronger with cultivation, but Confucianism grew weaker.

Nevertheless, as a stepping stone into officialdom, even though Confucianism cultivation weakened practitioners, countless people still flocked to it.

Steward Wu sighed, “The Fifth Realm in Martial Arts isn’t rare, but reaching the Fifth Realm in Haoran True Qi allows one to become a Great Confucian, revered by thousands. Unfortunately, there are only a few such individuals in the entire Great Xia, and even the Fourth Realm is exceedingly rare…”

Li Nuo thought to himself, although Confucianism and Legalism were among the most powerful schools, their cultivation conditions were so harsh compared to Martial Arts that they lacked competitiveness. How could they not decline?

No wonder the Magistrate of Chang’an hadn’t answered his question and had seemed somewhat dispirited afterward.

Remembering something, he suddenly asked, “Didn’t my father also practice Confucianism? Which realm has he reached?”

Steward Wu smiled without giving a direct answer, saying only, “This old servant doesn’t know either. Young master, you should ask the master yourself someday…”

Li Nuo shook his head. Truthfully, he wasn’t very familiar with that father of his, and even if they met, he wouldn’t be able to ask such questions.

Just as Li Nuo’s carriage slowly made its way toward the Li residence.

At the Chang’an County Office.

Having just seen off Li Nuo, Pei Zhe hadn’t had time to catch his breath when the jailer rushed over, looking panicked, and whispered in his ear, “Sir, it’s terrible! Zhang Xiaoyun has committed suicide in her cell!”