Grass and mustard reign supreme

Chapter 152 Who is the fish and who is the hook?

Zhao Chusheng gripped Yang Can's hand tightly and said excitedly, "You really are a Mohist from Qin! Your surname is Yang... Could you be the son of Uncle Yang Zhongli?"

When Zhao Chusheng was browsing through the incomplete "Qin Mo Ming Pu" (a book of famous Qin calligraphers), he found the names of two ancestors surnamed Yang.

One of them lost contact with the previous tycoon's generation.

The other one is Yang Zhongli, whom he met once when he was young.

That Uncle Yang had a fair complexion, an elegant demeanor, and a temperament somewhat similar to Yang Can's.

Therefore, Zhao Chuli naturally believed that Yang Can was very likely a descendant of Yang Zhongli's uncle.

Before Yang Can could answer, Zhao Chusheng excitedly began to ramble on, "Judging from your age, you should be my junior brother! Junior brother, I have committed a crime against the Mo Sect..."

Zhao Chusheng burst into tears, saying, "The Mohists of Qin have completely declined in my hands!"

This young man, who was usually quiet and reserved due to his introverted and shy nature, was now talking non-stop.

"The world says that our Mohist school talks empty words about 'universal love and non-aggression,' which are impractical! But who knows that the roots of the Mohists in Qin have always been 'building the nation through industry'!"

"We, the Mohists, forge iron and make plows with the art of refining iron, so that life-saving grains can grow in the fields of the common people; we, the Mohists, build cities and dig canals with the methods of construction, so that the people can have warm beds and avoid frost on cold nights; we, the Mohists, ingeniously create crossbows and stone-throwing devices, so that soldiers on the battlefield can have shields to defend themselves!"

Zhao Chusheng became more and more excited as he spoke. He released Yang Can's hands and gestured excitedly as he spoke, as if the objects created by the Mo family were now appearing before his eyes.

Only in this way can we have the foundation for "universal love"! Only in this way can we have the confidence for "non-aggression"!
When the First Emperor unified the six kingdoms, our Mohist artisans oversaw the construction of imperial roads and the forging of Qin swords and crossbows—what a glorious era that was!

At this point, Zhao Chusheng's shoulders slumped, and he said sadly with tears in his eyes, "But now... Qin Mo has been passed down to me, and let alone using his skills to benefit the world, even the disciples of my sect have scattered like kites with broken strings."

He raised his head, sighed to the sky, and said with a desolate expression: "Some of my disciples, Qin Mo, now live in the Northern Dynasty's yurt, forging exquisite wine cups and casting magnificent ornaments for the nobles of the Northern Kingdom."

Some served the wealthy and powerful families of the Southern Dynasties, building pavilions, waterside terraces, and sculpting gardens and rare objects for those idle and unambitious noblemen...

They were all masters of quenching techniques, leveraging skills, and ingenious mechanisms; they were experts who could turn stubborn iron into sharp tools and barren fields into granaries. Now, however, they could only eke out a living by clinging to their skills…

Zhao Chusheng grasped Yang Can's hand again, and said with shame, "It is my foolish brother's incompetence. I don't even have the ability to gather the scattered disciples, let alone implement the doctrines of my Mohist school and strengthen the country through the arts of crafts..."

Hey! I'm not a disciple of your Mohist school, brother!

You've mistaken me for someone else!
These words were already on Yang Can's tongue, but he swallowed them back down.

Qin Mo Juzi?

A leader in his early twenties?

A group of Mohist disciples skilled in manufacturing?

They are not just bookish scholars who only sit and talk, but a group of engineers who are proficient in forging, construction, and mechanical engineering!

What these kinds of people lack is never ability, but rather a core that can unite scattered sand into a fortress, an opportunity for them to unleash their full potential.

Looking at Qin Moju, who was standing before him, tears streaming down his face and filled with remorse, Yang Can felt a shameful thought creep into his mind.
Or... should I pretend to be him?
So many engineers! It's really enviable!

Yang Can cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed because he was about to deceive an honest person.

“Master, I, Yang, am willing to help you gather your disciples, restore the prestige of the Mohists in Qin, and spread the Mohist philosophy of ‘building the nation through industry’ throughout the world!”

……

Snowflakes drifted lightly outside the window, covering the dark blue tiles of Phoenix Villa with a layer of pure white.

The scattered snowflakes now clinging to the ground seem to add a soft, velvety texture to the whiteness, making it appear less heavy and more serene.

Unlike the freezing cold outside, the guest rooms at Jingyunxuan were warm, as if bathed in the warm sunshine of March.

Qingmei took extra care of Yang Can's two "fellow disciples," placing four braziers in the bathroom alone, and the steam rising from the bathtub made the whole bathroom warm and cozy.

Luo Meier's skin was covered with a thin layer of red after she had just taken a bath.

Her slightly damp black hair cascaded down her back, and her plain white undergarment, damp with moisture, clung to her body, making her fair and jade-like skin appear even more translucent.

The fatigue from the long journey was washed away by the hot water, leaving me feeling relaxed and languid.

She didn't rush to bind her chest; she simply leaned against the table, picked up her wine cup, and poured herself a drink.

The Yang family's meals, their fine wines, even their bathwater was heated by the Yang family...

Luo Meier took a sip of wine, but didn't feel any guilt towards Yang Can because of it.

If it weren't for that scoundrel Yang Can ruining her reputation, causing her to be rejected by the Zhao family and ridiculed by the world, would she have bothered to travel such a long distance and endure all this hardship?

Luo Meier was the apple of General Luo's eye, and with four older brothers protecting her, she had been training with the boys since childhood, becoming proficient in archery and other skills.

The temperament nurtured in such an environment has none of the gentleness of a woman from Jiangnan; it is clearly that of a straightforward, bold, and courageous northern hero.

Her alcohol tolerance was developed from a young age. When she was three, her father would dip chopsticks in wine and feed her to drink it, so she had a very high alcohol tolerance.

After drinking two and a half ounces of plum wine, Luo Meier felt warm all over, and her starry eyes shone even brighter.

Suddenly, the sound of a maid's light footsteps came from outside the courtyard, accompanied by the announcement, "Young Master Zhao, my master is back!"

Luo Meier's fingertips paused. Yang Can is back?
She downed the wine in her cup in one gulp, then rose, spread out a sheet of Xuan paper, dipped her brush in thick ink, and wrote a letter with flowing strokes.

Her handwriting lacked any feminine elegance; instead, it carried the robust and majestic spirit of a northern man, with a sharp and swift stroke as sharp as her swordsmanship.

The Jiangnan gentry were known for their decadent lifestyle, with even men adorning themselves with makeup and floral ornaments, displaying an undeniably effeminate demeanor. In contrast, Luo Mei'er possessed a free-spirited and forthright nature, acting with the same integrity as a northern hero, making her an anomaly among the Jiangnan elites.

The letter clearly stated who she was, why she had traveled thousands of miles to Longshang to seek revenge, and how she had used Zhao Chusheng. Every word and sentence distanced her from that honest man.

After writing, she placed the letter under her wine cup before starting to pack her things.

If your hair isn't dry, simply tie it into a neat high ponytail.

A piece of breathable linen was tightly wrapped around her chest, making her curves appear flat.

The leg wraps on the twisted calves are styled into a "rolling wave" pattern.

He inserted a short sword into his boot, put on a green robe, and the drooping hem of the robe just covered the hilt of the sword.

At this moment, what was reflected in the bronze mirror was clearly a handsome young man. Although there was a hint of childishness in his eyes, he had a heroic spirit.

Luo Meier made a face at herself in the mirror, then composed herself, sat back down at the table, and closed her eyes to breathe.

Killing that scoundrel Yang Can might be easy, but to escape unscathed from the heavily guarded Phoenix Manor, one must conserve one's strength, for a fierce battle is inevitable.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhao Chusheng's footsteps could be heard outside the door.

"Thank you for seeing me off, young lady!"

Zhao Chusheng stopped at the door of his room, turned around and bowed to the maid who had brought him back, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement.

He never imagined that his spur-of-the-moment guess would actually come true; Yang Can was indeed a Mohist from Qin, and the son of his Uncle Zhongli.

His long conversation with Yang Can just now was truly enlightening for him.

When discussing the Mohist philosophy of "building the nation through industry," Yang Can not only hit the nail on the head with every sentence, from iron smelting to cloth weaving, but also had a more far-sighted perspective than Yang Can.

When discussing the improvement of plows and waterwheels, Yang Can even used the innovation of the loom as a starting point to put forward a groundbreaking term: "Industrial Revolution".

The convergence of various trades forms industry; revolutionaries, acting in accordance with the will of Heaven and the people, are a powerful force capable of changing dynasties. Yang Can actually used this to describe the driving force of the rise of various trades on the future of the world—what foresight…

Zhao Chusheng's heart surged with excitement as he thought about it. He felt that Yang Can's vision was so profound that not only he himself could not match it, but even the previous generation's master of the Mohist school could not compare. It was probably comparable to the old master Mozi.

What shocked him even more was Yang Can's attitude towards Confucianism, that frank disdain that even he, who had always kept his distance from Confucianism, felt ashamed of.

"Nowadays, everyone in the world regards Confucianism as the orthodox doctrine, and they talk about benevolence and morality all the time, but they do not know that without food, the people will rebel, and without iron, the army will be weak. How can the country be at peace?"

Yang Can's words resonated like a powerful bell, stirring his blood: "Empty talk harms the country, while industry builds it up; this is the right path for humanity!"

Zhao Chusheng was an introverted and taciturn person. He was always embarrassed when he couldn't find topics to talk about with others, and over time he became more and more withdrawn.

However, when he was with Yang Can, Yang Can could easily spark countless topics of conversation with just a single sentence from him, making him feel like they had known each other for a long time.

If Yang Can hadn't said he wanted to meet his "little brother Luo," he really would have wanted to have a long talk with Yang Can all night.

"No rush, there's plenty of time."

Zhao Chusheng secretly made up his mind that he did not intend to leave. He would find a suitable opportunity to hand over the position of the Grand Master of the Mo Family to Yang Can.

A man of Yang Can's integrity and uprightness would certainly not cling to power; he had to come up with a way that Yang Can could not refuse.

Yang Can had to agree, for the sake of the Mo family!
At that moment, there was a gentle knock on Luo Meier's door.

A maid's clear voice came from outside: "Young Master Luo, my master invites you to his study for a chat."

Luo Meier took a deep breath, suppressing the murderous intent surging in her chest, and deliberately replied in a rough voice, "Wait a moment."

She got up, straightened her clothes, and made sure that the bandage around her chest was secure and the short sword was hidden well before she opened the door.

The maid at the door blushed when she saw her.

This young master Luo is so handsome, even more so than the pampered young ladies in the manor.

Luo Meier smiled faintly and said politely, "Please lead the way, young lady."

The maidservant quickly curtsied and walked slowly forward, and she followed with steady steps, imitating the gait of a man.

Inside the study, Yang Can was lost in thought, holding a teacup.

He had just said he wanted to meet that "Young Master Luo" because he had heard from Qingmei that this "Young Master Luo" was a woman disguised as a man, and he wanted to tease the honest Zhao Chusheng.

But Zhao Chusheng took the opportunity to tell him the truth: this young man, Luo, was a friend he had met in Shanggui. He came from Jiangnan and wanted to find an enemy who had ruined her reputation so that he could wash away her innocence with blood.

"To pursue a criminal across thousands of miles just because of a single slanderous remark is too extreme."

Zhao Chusheng frowned and advised him, "Brother, you must not help her seek revenge and become her accomplice. But if you directly say that you are unwilling to help, I am afraid that she will cause trouble by running amok in Longshan."

Therefore, my dear brother, you should agree first, and then in a few days tell him that his enemy has already left Longshang, and since she has no other way to find him, she will naturally return to Jiangnan.”

Yang Can readily agreed.

It's just a rumor!
The person who spreads rumors is certainly despicable, but to kill them outright is going too far.

However, as he sat in his study waiting for the young master Luo, who was disguised as a man, to arrive, he suddenly felt that something was amiss.

A woman surnamed Luo from Wuzhou in Jiangnan has had her reputation ruined by fabricated rumors...

Hmm? Why does this feel so familiar?
(End of this chapter)