Chapter Twenty-Nine: Gan Long: Use Official Titles While at Work

Gongzi Ang struck the table in frustration, his voice filled with unwillingness: "Pang Juan, that scoundrel, has hidden our fellow disciple so deeply that it is impossible to dig up even a trace of his whereabouts..."

On the couch, Gongshu Cuo, as if he had anticipated this, let out a heavy sigh, his cloudy, aged eyes fixed on the ceiling. After a long silence, he struggled to turn his head and spoke in a hoarse voice: "It seems there is only one path left now."

Gongzi Ang stepped forward, his tone resolute: "Please speak, Teacher. I will spare no effort to carry it out."

"That is..." Gongshu Cuo propped himself up and gestured for Gongzi Ang to lean in. His cracked lips brushed against Gongzi Ang’s ear as he used the last of his strength to whisper a few words.

"Teacher, this..." Gongzi Ang straightened up abruptly, his pupils contracting. His face was etched with disbelief and horror as he stared at his dying teacher. Gongshu Cuo looked back at him, his gaze as firm as a boulder, and with his final ounce of energy, he gave a heavy nod.

...

In a mysterious corner of the State of Wei, Wei Yang was held captive. The place was not only devoid of sunlight, but the air was also thick with a foul, unbearable stench. "Pang Juan, you will meet a miserable end!" The brilliant talent of his generation, Wei Yang, was being kept here like a beast.

...

In the State of Qin, at the residence of Gan Long.

"Du Zhi! What did I tell you just a few days ago? Why do you never learn?" Gan Long’s hair stood on end as he pointed at the man bowing before him and roared, "You actually dared to conspire in private and openly defy the Duke’s Edict for Talents!"

Du Zhi kept his head lowered, saying nothing.

Gan Long was so angry he nearly fainted. "It is fortunate that I intercepted this letter! If it had reached Ying Quliang’s ears, you would be sticking your neck out waiting for his blade! Foolish! Simply too foolish! If you had even one-tenth of the cunning and depth of that brat Zhao Zheng, you wouldn't be acting so absurdly!"

Du Zhi finally could not help but whisper a defense: "Teacher..."

"Use titles when at work," Gan Long snapped, cutting him off. "Do you not use your brain before acting? What is the difference between you and a mad bull, charging about just for the sake of a moment's gratification? If everyone were as reckless as you, we might as well pack our bags and get out of Yueyang."

Du Zhi said helplessly, "Grand Master, I pondered for a long time yesterday. What if these Eastern scholars truly take root here? Wouldn't that be the end of us?"

Gan Long shook his head. "As that boy Zhao Zheng said, the vast majority of these people have no intention of staying in Qin. Furthermore, even if they do take root, so what? The State of Qin is *our* Qin, not theirs. You… you worry too much."

...

Having heard Gan Long’s words, Du Zhi suddenly cleared his head and hurriedly bowed: "The Grand Master is right. It was my lack of foresight."

Seeing that Du Zhi understood, Gan Long’s tone softened significantly. "Also, put away those petty schemes of yours and withdraw the men you have watching Zhao Zheng. Zhao Zheng is no fool. If you wait for him to come knocking at your door, he will surely make us bleed."

As he spoke, Gan Long’s cold gaze darted toward several itinerant vendors outside the residence who looked distinctly out of place. It was all too fake; anyone with a discerning eye could see there was something wrong. Without someone giving orders, what merchant would dare set up a stall between the residences of the Left Shuzhang and the Grand Master? That would truly be an old man eating arsenic—tired of living.

...

The Yueyang Palace was different from usual; this time, Zhao Zheng was nowhere to be seen.

Ying Qian looked around with a rough, heavy air, his brows furrowed: "I haven't seen that brat Zhao Zheng lately?"

Ying Quliang sighed, rubbing his temples: "Don't ask. Lately, he has been taking our elder sister to the brothels every single day, staying there for half the day at a time."

"??? That brat Zhao Zheng is taking our little sister to a brothel?" Ying Qian’s eyes widened, and he stood up abruptly, his anger spiking instantly. "No, I have to go and teach that kid a lesson." He turned to storm out.

"Brother, calm down," Ying Quliang said, pulling Ying Qian back. "You know what kind of person our little sister is, don't you? Don't worry, she won't go along with the Master's rowdiness."

Forcing Ying Qian back into his seat, Ying Quliang said with a serious expression: "Enough, brother. I have a pressing matter to discuss with you." As he spoke, Ying Quliang handed a bamboo scroll to Ying Qian.

Ying Qian suppressed his temper and snorted, thinking to himself: *Zhao Zheng, you brat, just wait. If you dare to corrupt our little sister, I will not spare you.* He took the scroll and scanned it, his face suddenly changing as he looked at Ying Quliang in disbelief.

"Brother, is... is what this letter says true?"

Ying Quliang nodded. "It is absolutely certain. Jing Jian ordered his men to deliver it with the utmost urgency."

"Gongshu Cuo is dead? How is that possible? Wasn't he perfectly fine when he left Qin?" Ying Qian frowned, as this was certainly not good news for the State of Qin.

Ying Quliang shook his head. "Jing Jian only sent me one message along the way; I really don't know the specifics of what happened. However, I fear the State of Qin is in danger now!"

Ying Qian slammed his fist onto the table and gritted his teeth: "With that old man Gongshu Cuo dead, won't that son of a bitch Pang Juan be the sole power?"

"I expect the Master will know of this soon as well. We shall discuss it further once he arrives," Ying Quliang said, shaking his head. Gongshu Cuo’s death had left him at a loss.

If Pang Juan ascended to the position of Chancellor of Wei, he would surely mobilize the entire strength of the state to wash away the humiliation of his past defeat by Qin... a hundredfold.

...

At the Jinyu Pavilion, Zhao Zheng, who had been waiting for days, finally received useful news. Ever since Jing Jian’s urgent report that Wei Yang had fallen into the hands of Pang Juan, Zhao Zheng had visited the Jinyu Pavilion daily, hoping for the latest intelligence.

Even with the immense capabilities of the Mohists, it had taken a great deal of effort to finally locate where Wei Yang was being held. At the same time, Jing Jian had sent a report to Zhao Zheng regarding the death of Gongshu Cuo.

Mo Hao looked at the news and frowned: "Actually, the information we received suggests that Gongshu Cuo committed suicide."

"Suicide?" Zhao Zheng’s pupils constricted. Why would Gongshu Cuo, perfectly fine as he was, commit suicide?

Mo Hao shook his head. "I do not know, but it seems something major is about to happen in the State of Wei. By the way, Left Shuzhang, I have found the location where Wei Yang is being held, but..." Mo Hao’s expression became very strange as he said this.

"What is it?" Zhao Zheng pressed.

Mo Hao seemed reluctant to mention it: "I truly cannot understand what kind of person could be locked up in a pigsty? Just how much does Pang Juan hate this man?"

What? A pigsty?

Zhao Zheng’s eyes widened. That bastard Pang Juan had thrown Wei Yang into a pigsty?

Mo Hao said helplessly: "Indeed! That is why we Mohists searched almost the entire State of Wei and couldn't find a trace of him. Who would have guessed he was in a pigsty purchased by Pang Juan?"

Zhao Zheng pressed his lips into a thin line, his fingers tapping heavily on the table. After a long while, he asked: "Can you use your resources to rescue Wei Yang for me?"

Mo Hao looked troubled. "I must report this to the Grand Master. If he agrees, we will naturally assist with all our might."

"How long will it take at the fastest?" Zhao Zheng asked, fearing that if he waited any longer, Wei Yang’s life would be forfeit.

"Two quarters of an hour should suffice," Mo Hao replied after a moment of consideration.

Two quarters of an hour—that was acceptable. Zhao Zheng breathed a sigh of relief.

"However, the difficulty will be quite high," Mo Hao added, his expression growing grave as he contemplated the task.