Chapter 2: The Imperial Chronicler

Chapter 2: The Imperial Chronicle Recorder

Three days later.

After practicing the Five-Step Fist and Tai Chi until his entire body ached, Qin Yuan’s internal energy had grown to the level of three hundred days’ cultivation.

An astonishing hundredfold increase.

No matter how exhausting it was... it was all worth it.

Qin Yuan took a gentle breath, summoned his internal energy, and attempted a leap. With ease, he landed on the rooftop beam.

Having internal energy truly was a blessing.

Though it felt a bit dry.

Returning to the ground, Qin Yuan brushed the dust off from the beam, sat cross-legged, and began circulating his internal energy following the shallow method retained from his previous life’s memories. This “circulation cycle” involved moving energy through various acupuncture points. After two cycles, the dryness transformed into smoothness.

There was still time to refine his understanding when a rapid, hurried set of footsteps approached.

In an instant, Qin Yuan was at the table, picking up a brush, poised to write.

At that moment, Chief Editor Shao Guilin entered leisurely, his belly protruding, and slapped a note onto the desk: “Today, you are assigned to record General Wei.”

General Wei Ting—the commander of the Imperial Guard’s Right Army, with an elite force of eight thousand troops—was among the most powerful figures near the capital.

It was said that before Tan Zhuangfei was captured, he sought Wei’s help to stage a coup.

Wei feigned agreement but reported to the Empress Dowager the very next day.

“Why is it me again today? I haven’t been home for three days,” Qin Yuan complained.

“Too young to handle fatigue, no ambition...” Shao Guilin grumbled incessantly.

Though it wasn’t quite like the motivational speeches his previous-life leaders enjoyed giving, it was close enough—exactly the same, in fact.

“Chief Editor, I never planned on having ambition,” Qin Yuan interrupted.

Shao Guilin faltered, glared at Qin Yuan with puffy eyes for a moment, then angrily flung his oversized sleeves and stormed out.

As long as I remain without ambition, no one can demand ambition from me.

Ha ha ha...

“Chief Editor, once today’s work is done, I’m going home,” Qin Yuan called out deliberately.

All he got in response was a grunt.

Qin Yuan wasn’t afraid of Shao Guilin in the slightest.

His role as a recorder was a legitimate, hereditary position.

Shao Guilin had no authority to dismiss him.

At midday, under the blazing sun, Qin Yuan appeared outside the grand camp near the capital city, having just eaten a pomegranate by the roadside.

He presented his credentials.

Inside the heavily guarded camp, General Wei Ting was distributing military pay.

Unlike most commanders, Wei handed out the wages personally to each soldier.

With over eight thousand troops, the distribution started before dawn and still hadn’t finished.

This time-consuming process was not only about personally handing out pay but also about Wei occasionally checking in—asking about the soldier’s families, their parents’ health, marriage status, and any hardships.

He would sometimes crack jokes that only the rough soldiers appreciated.

His skill in manipulating hearts and minds was truly masterful.

A short-statured officer approached and whispered in Wei’s ear: “The Left Historian’s Office has sent a recorder.”

Wei glanced at him coldly but said nothing and continued distributing pay.

Despite the slow pace, no soldier showed impatience.

First, the general’s personal involvement prevented any embezzlement by officers.

Second, it gave soldiers a chance to speak directly to the general. Being noticed by him meant swift advancement.

An hour later, the pay distribution was finally complete.

A nearby officer channeled his internal energy and loudly asked, “Whose food do we eat?”

The eight thousand soldiers responded in unison, “We eat the court’s food!”

The officer pressed on, “Whose food do we truly eat?”

The soldiers corrected themselves, “We eat General Wei’s food!”

“Whose clothes do we wear?”

“We wear General Wei’s clothes!”

“Whose orders do we obey?”

“We obey General Wei’s orders! We obey General Wei’s orders!”

“Dismissed!”

The soldiers orderly fell back.

After a moment, Qin Yuan, who had been waiting patiently, finally met General Wei Ting.

About forty years old, not tall, solidly built, with dark skin and piercing eyes.

Seated there, he exuded an aura of commanding authority without raising his voice—a presence that would intimidate most people.

Qin Yuan, however, felt nothing.

He carried the burden of immortality.

Everyone else was merely a passing shadow on the long road of his endless life.

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

Qin Yuan bowed respectfully. “Greetings, General.”

“Sit, don’t be formal,” Wei smiled kindly.

Once again, Wei displayed his talent for winning hearts, quickly giving Qin Yuan the impression that he was a genuinely good man.

“Oh dear, I almost forgot the matter at hand. If you have questions for the record, ask away.”

Adjusting his collar, Qin Yuan posed the question that made Wei’s expression darken: “What was said when you met with Tan Zhuangfei?”

Wei considered for a moment. “On the night of the third day of the month, Tan Zhuangfei came to the temporary residence I was staying at, Hongyuan Temple. As soon as we met, he told me that the only person who can save the emperor now is me. If I wanted to save him, I should act quickly. Then he touched his own neck and said if I didn’t plan to save the emperor, I should report him and kill him. Doing so would bring me great wealth and honor.”

At this point, Wei paused, then continued after a while: “I asked, ‘What do you take me, Wei, to be? I have received unusual favors from the emperor just like you. The responsibility to protect him is not mine alone. If there is a way to help, I am willing to listen.’ We then discussed the details.”

After finishing, Wei raised his hand and swore: “I only feigned cooperation with the traitor Tan; I never intended to betray the Empress Dowager or rebel.”

Qin Yuan set down his pen and inquired, “Did Tan Zhuangfei mention how the emperor would treat the Empress Dowager afterward?”

“To retire in seclusion,” Wei replied.

In plain terms, that meant locking her away in a garden where no one could see her.

Qin Yuan asked a few more minor questions before preparing to leave.

Wei stopped him. “I have prepared food and wine. Eat before you go.”

No one refuses a favor when there’s something to gain.

Especially when it concerns a powerful figure’s face.

Qin Yuan accepted.

Wei’s feast was extraordinarily lavish.

His appetite shocked Qin Yuan, reminding him of Luffy’s bottomless stomach.

After the meal, Qin Yuan took his leave.

A general nearby wondered aloud, “Why is the general so courteous to such a minor recorder?”

“The smaller the player, the more caution is needed,” Wei said gravely.

Returning to the capital, Qin Yuan headed to the cold, sinister prison.

According to protocol, Wei’s answers had to be verified with Tan Zhuangfei.

Compared to last time, Tan’s condition was far worse—his body covered with whip marks, eyes swollen, fingers mangled beyond recognition.

It was unbearable to witness.

“The son of a governor, I don’t understand why he wastes his life mingling with such people instead of living well,” muttered the prison guard leading Qin Yuan, full of envy and hatred.

Qin Yuan glanced at him.

The saying “A sparrow cannot comprehend the ambition of a swan” perfectly described men like this.

Indeed, this world was made up of countless sparrows.

But without the likes of Tan Zhuangfei—the swans who bear the burdens for all—the sparrows would remain nothing more than sparrows.

With a clatter, the guard produced a bunch of keys, deftly unlocked the heavy iron door, and retreated.

If chapters disappear, it’s usually because I accidentally altered them while editing.

(End of chapter)