Can a Scholar Be Called a Villain

Chapter 73: A peaceful day

Chapter 73: A peaceful day

Today, was a very peaceful day.

In the southern region, the tides of war had begun to ebb, with the South Village army and the surrounding forces reaching an impasse. The battle’s resolution remained elusive without the intervention of Sky Reaching realm experts.

Simultaneously, the uprisings that had erupted across the thirty-two counties had gradually subsided. The leaders of these rebels had mysteriously vanished, leaving their followers disoriented and defeated in a seemingly endless cycle.

Even the internal strife within the major influential powers was being doused, seemingly due to a leadership vacuum that left rebellious flames without a focal point.

In the heart of the capital, the remnants of the Xue clan lay scattered, time had yet to allow for the cleansing of the aftermath.

While the mysterious force responsible for the utter annihilation of the Xue clan remained concealed, it was universally understood that no one had the capability to provoke such a formidable entity. Consequently, a pervasive apprehension led most to distance themselves from any potential involvement.

Collectively, the prevailing belief held that the Xue clan’s tragic downfall was a direct consequence of their ill-fated choices, an ill-judged affront to forces beyond their reckoning. This conviction, however, remained shrouded in uncertainty.

This prevailing atmosphere prompted the various influential factions to cautiously deploy their spies for covert investigations within the capital, each seeking to unravel the mystery veiled beneath the Xue clan’s demise.

At the present moment, Murong Lin lay within the chambers of the imperial physician chambers, accompanied by an elderly man at his side. Although his complexion appeared to exhibit a slight improvement, this apparent recovery was in truth a skilful façade, meticulously crafted through the adept manipulation of his spiritual powers.

Beside him stood an elderly figure, his form slightly hunched and his voice steeped in respect as he addressed Murong Lin, who was reclined in a chair comfortably, “His Majesty, the Emperor, has conveyed his wishes that the third prince need not attend the morning court tomorrow. Your well-being and recovery take precedence.”

With a determined shake of his head, Murong Lin dismissed the suggestion, struggling to rise from the chair as he respectfully cupped his hands, “There’s no need to worry. My injuries are of little consequence. As you can see, I’m already capable of standing.”

The old man regarded Murong Lin with a mixture of sympathy and concern, his gaze imploring as he endeavoured to persuade him, “Your Highness, it has scarcely been a day since your rescue from the clutches of those vile tormentors. You’ve endured unspeakable torture. Rest is imperative.”

Yet, Murong Lin’s resolve remained unshaken as he spoke with unwavering conviction, “I must disagree. My injuries are trifling; I assure you, I am perfectly well.”

With a gentle shake of his head, he channelled a trace of his spiritual powers, subtly emphasizing that his injuries were inconsequential.

Realizing the futility of his persuasion, the old man acquiesced with a nod, “Very well, Your Highness. Tonight, there is a grand banquet planned at the imperial court, will the third prince be able to grace the event with his presence?”

A smile graced Murong Lin’s lips as he replied, “Absolutely. What is the occasion?”

With his hands cupped together, the old man explained, “It is a celebration of victory, a feast orchestrated by His Majesty. Princes, princesses, the Poisonous Old Ghost and his disciple, Tang Can, have been summoned to partake in this event. I recall that on a prior occasion, the third prince’s presence was regretfully declined due to pressing matters. Will Your Highness be able to grace us with your presence this time?”

Murong Lin immediately nodded his head with a grateful expression, “I shall most certainly attend. However, regarding the past instance you mentioned, I have no recollection of such a refusal. Was it, perhaps, some miscommunication that occurred among my subordinates?”

After a brief moment of reflection, the old man’s recollection finally aligned: The third prince had been replaced long before that occasion! The realization of this mistake flushed his face with embarrassment as he offered a hasty apology. Yet, Murong Lin’s response was magnanimous, dismissing the matter with a casual wave of his hand, indicating that no offence was taken.

Once the old man had departed, Murong Lin’s expression shifted back to one of indifference. Without turning back, he asked, “Is everything prepared?”

Qing Miao Lou’s hoarse voice emerged from a corner, “Master, all preparations have been completed.”

His tone betrayed a restrained excitement, like a quiver barely held in check.

Murong Lin’s tone remained calm, “Excellent. Tonight, our aim is victory!”

“Yes!” Came the swift and resolute reply as Qing Miao Lou’s form seemed to waver momentarily before vanishing from sight.

Meanwhile, in another part of the country……

Inside the grand residence of the eldest prince, Murong Ding displayed a cordial smile as he poured a cup of tea, offering it to Tang Can, “Brother Tang, I must express my profound gratitude for this golden occasion to shine in my father’s presence. Allow me to extend to you this token of appreciation in the form of tea.”

Tang Can lifted the offered cup, acknowledging the gesture.

Unbeknownst to Murong Ding, the credit for the astute analysis that had so effectively impressed Murong Dong which he stole had conveniently obscured Tang Can’s involvement.

This strategic move had, in turn, enabled Tang Can to remain in the shadows.

By hiding his involvement, Tang Can subtly conveyed the discerning vigilance ingrained within a disciple of the Tang sect.

Consequently, Murong Ding’s shameless misappropriation of credit did not provoke the slightest frustration in Tang Can.

Furthermore, for Tang Can, avenging his father marked a resolution to his vendetta.

Tang Can’s spirits were at an all-time high, having achieved his revenge and ascended from the seventh layer of the Origin realm to nearly reaching the Manifestation realm – an impressive feat at just fifteen years of age.

Murong Ding, taking heed of his advisors, contemplated the idea of bringing Tang Can onto his side, especially considering the support he received from the Poisonous Old Ghost.

“No need for gratitude. However, I can’t help but worry about potential trouble at the banquet tonight.” Tang Can felt uneasy.

A principle from the Tang sect echoed in his mind: Unspoken unease often hinted at visible turmoil.

Tang Can harboured uncertainty about the impending evening.

Clutching his newly refined hidden weapon, he found solace in its reassuring weight.

By his side, Lu Hai Miao of the Zong Xiang gang sat, her face adorned with a shy bashfulness. The trials they weathered together had forged an unspoken bond, one etched in shared experiences.

Their journey from the valley’s clutches to the capital, orchestrating an audacious strike against Duke Sheng’s estate, and their audacious escape from the clutches of the palace guards had become cherished memories that flickered vividly through her mind.

These recollections ignited an uncontainable surge of affection within her, giving rise to feelings she found herself unable to suppress.

In stark contrast, Tang Can grappled with inner turmoil. Love was a rare occurrence among disciples of the Tang sect, and even rarer was the longevity of such emotions. Consequently, he dared not confront the sentiments he harboured for Lu Hai Miao.

In a conscious act of avoidance, he chose to overlook the overt affection Lu Hai Miao displayed towards him.

Lu Hai Miao held a genuine fondness for the young man before her, a sentiment she bravely confronted.

She addressed Tang Can directly, “My father is arriving in the capital tonight. I’d like you to meet him later.”

Murong Ding’s invitation to the evening’s banquet had not been extended to Lu Hai Miao due to her standing as the eldest child of the Zong Xiang gang, and she had no choice but to bid her farewell to Tang Can for now.

Tang Can maintained his composure, taking a sip of tea before calmly responding, “I have to attend the banquet tonight, I fear that I don’t have the time.”

Lu Hai Miao’s frustration manifested in a determined shrug, “I don’t care! You must come tonight! Or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

With a resolute knock on Tang Can’s forehead, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the manor.

That big stupid oaf! Can’t he see my feelings towards him?

Hmph! Men are such blockheads!

Tang Can’s expression contorted into an awkward grimace as he remained seated within the manor. His gaze inadvertently turned towards Murong Ding, who sported an all-too-interested expression.

With an inward cringe, Tang Can hastily averted his gaze, hoping to cloak his emotions. Murong Ding’s voice, punctuated by the clinking of his teacup, cut through the air, “Feelings, once lost, may vanish forever. Beware the sting of regret when that moment arrives.”

Murong Ding’s words struck a chord within Tang Can, amplifying his internal turmoil.

It’s not as if I’m blind! It’s just hard to acknowledge!

In a surge of frustration, Tang Can drained the contents of his teacup in a single gulp.

His master was still resting within the imperial court, and Tang Can and the Poisonous Old Ghost stood as the sole guests to be invited to the impending banquet.

Tang Can’s sole lingering concern rested with the whereabouts of General Jiang Tian Sheng. Even after asking around at his residence, any trace of him remained elusive.

According to the eldest prince, General Jiang Tian Sheng had inexplicably departed the city at the helm of his troops.

While the situation appeared to be resolved on the surface, an undercurrent of unease persisted within Tang Can.

Beyond the city’s confines, along a nondescript path, Jiang Tian Sheng led his mounted soldiers in a hasty return toward the capital.

Finally identifying the root of his unease, Jiang Tian Sheng had pieced together the recent events that had unfolded within the city. A meticulous analysis spurred by intuition unveiled a larger conspiracy at hand, one that loomed ominously.

“Tang Can, I pray that you remain untangled from this turmoil. If you were to perish, I’d meet my end with a heart laden in shame before your father.”

Seated atop his mount, Jiang Tian Sheng thought to himself as his gaze fixed ahead, the outline of the capital materializing on the horizon.

“What sort of power could orchestrate such a covert scheme? Is it you, Third Prince?”

A gut feeling guided his thoughts.

Dread weighed heavily on his heart; an ominous presentiment shadowed his return to the capital. He dreaded that this return to the capital might seal his fate.

Translator’s note

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