Chapter Sixty-Nine: An Astonishing Background

Under the gaze of Zhu Yi, Lu Zhi, and Huangfu Song, Xu Kang began persuading them by laying out the facts.

“Uncle Master, Uncle, and General Zhu, you all should understand that the strength of a nation depends on its population. In the ten-plus years that His Majesty has reigned, the people have suffered five great plagues—many regions are nearly deserted, some villages wiped out entirely. At the start of this year, a severe drought struck, and in many places, people were driven to the unthinkable, even trading their children for food.”

All three were high officials of the court, and they were not ignorant of these matters. Hearing Xu Kang’s words, their expressions shifted, each revealing a measure of unease.

Seeing this, Xu Kang pressed on.

“In such difficult times, every single commoner is precious. If today we can forgive and re-educate even one person, that is another to till our Han fields and pay our Han taxes. Their sons and daughters will do the same in generations to come. Is this not a contribution?”

He then turned his gaze back to Zhu Yi.

“If, as you propose, General Zhu, we kill them or send them to their deaths, who will farm all that land? The great families? Or should we let the fields go to waste and wild grass take over—is that how you intend to serve the country?”

Zhu Yi fell silent under Xu Kang’s relentless questioning. After a long pause, he sighed deeply.

“Very well. Perhaps it is not impossible to give them another chance. But Xu Yide, how can you guarantee they won’t turn to banditry again?”

Before Xu Kang could respond, Lu Zhi sighed heavily.

“If it weren’t for desperation, who would risk beheading for rebellion?”

At his words, the room fell silent; no one spoke, and a somber mood settled over them.

Unable to bear the atmosphere, Huangfu Song raised his wine cup and stood.

“Today, Yide has won a splendid victory and struck a heavy blow against the Yellow Turbans. We should be celebrating! Yide, come, drink with me!”

“Yes, Uncle!” Xu Kang had no choice but to rise, raise his goblet toward Huangfu Song, and drain it in one go.

With the wine down, a bright smile spread across Huangfu Song’s face.

“Ha! That’s more like it. Yide, your battle today was truly exhilarating. If Brother Ziguan hadn’t stopped me, I’d have ridden out to fight by your side! Come, drink again!”

Xu Kang laughed and raised his cup once more. “How could I refuse?”

He downed another cup. Thanks to Huangfu Song’s intervention, the mood lightened. Zhu Yi, sensing the change, wisely refrained from mentioning the Yellow Turbans again and joined in the drinking games instead. Before long, he’d drunk himself under the table.

Huangfu Song moved to help him, but before he could reach Zhu Yi, he himself stumbled and collapsed with a thud, soon snoring on the floor.

Feeling light-headed, Xu Kang realized he was drunk and simply slumped over the table. Before long, he, too, was fast asleep.

He slept deeply. When he awoke, daylight was streaming in, and only Lu Zhi remained in the room.

Seeing him stir, Lu Zhi immediately had a bowl of millet porridge brought in. Xu Kang took the bowl and drank it down in great gulps, unashamed.

Seeing him enjoy it so much, Lu Zhi smiled. “If you like it, Yide, I’ll have them bring another bowl.”

“No need!” Xu Kang set down the bowl, wiped his mouth, and pulled a magical loaf of bread from his space backpack. “I’ll just have this instead.”

He began eating in big bites.

Lu Zhi chuckled. “Yide, your Daoist arts are truly miraculous. If you could teach them to others, no Han subject would ever have to go hungry again.”

Catching the hint, Xu Kang laughed aloud.

“Haha, Uncle Master, your idea isn’t bad, but conjuring something out of nothing isn’t something just anyone can learn. Otherwise, why do those Daoists fast for so long? It’s because they can’t master it.”

“True enough.”

Lu Zhi seemed unsurprised and didn’t press further, but instead asked about another matter. “Next month, you’re borrowing the wind from Heaven—do you need to make any preparations?”

“What’s there to prepare for borrowing a bit of wind? No need.”

For Xu Kang, borrowing the wind was just a ruse; he already knew the wind would come next month, so there was nothing to prepare.

But to Lu Zhi, hearing Xu Kang speak so lightly of such a lofty feat—like borrowing a few measures of rice—was astonishing. The ease and calm with which he spoke suggested a background of immense influence.

Could he have connections in the Celestial Court?

With this thought, Lu Zhi’s gaze changed. He solemnly cupped his hands in salute.

“In that case, I’ll leave the matter to you, Yide.”

Seeing Lu Zhi so earnest, Xu Kang also became serious, returning the salute with a respectful face.

“Uncle Master, you honor me. Please leave it to me.”

Seeing Xu Kang so earnest, Lu Zhi relaxed and smiled warmly, nodding as he spoke.

“In that case, I’ll say no more. If you need anything, just tell me.”

“Thank you, Uncle Master!” Xu Kang nodded, and then, as if recalling something, spoke up again.

“By the way, Uncle Master, after General Zhu’s reminder, I realized I’m not really skilled with a spear. I’d like a war hammer suitable for use on horseback—could you help me find one?”

Lu Zhi burst out laughing. “That’s hardly difficult! Come with me!”

He led Xu Kang to the front yard, selected an iron staff about two meters long from the weapons rack, and handed it to him.

“Here you are!”

Xu Kang was speechless.

I asked for a hammer, and you give me an iron staff?

Just as he was about to explain, he noticed that at the tip of the staff was a lump of iron the size of a man’s fist.

The head was small, but it was, in fact, a hammer!

“Damn it, television really does lie!” Xu Kang’s lips twitched.

But he quickly resigned himself. Reality was not the same as drama: on TV, a hammer only needed to look impressive, but in real life, it had to be practical—there were no superhuman strongmen here.

If the hammer was too heavy, it would be impossible to control its balance and force, making mistakes more likely—and on the battlefield, mistakes could cost your life.

But Xu Kang wasn’t worried: with all his life-saving skills, as long as he didn’t act recklessly, he’d be fine. The weapon was more symbolic than practical.

He certainly wasn’t going to use this unimpressive long-handled hammer.

With that, he cupped his hands to Lu Zhi.

“Uncle Master, this isn’t what I want, so I’ll make my own hammer. I’ve even got a name for it!”

A flicker of nostalgia crossed his eyes.

“I’ll call it Sulfuras, Hand of Ragnaros!”

Lu Zhi stared in astonishment.

What on earth?