AEOGA CH34

The carriage drove all the way out of Yujing and reached the capital’s outskirts. Xie Chongjin instructed, “To Lin Manor.”

Lin Manor was the place where Lin Chanzhi resided in the suburban outskirts. Since he was engaged in farming work outside and found it inconvenient to constantly travel back and forth to the Imperial Palace, he simply took up residence there.

The outskirts of the capital contained a thousand qing of land, which had originally been set aside by the late Emperor to cultivate fruit trees. Changli’s fruit had never been as sweet and juicy as Xifeng’s, making it necessary to frequently engage in economic trade with Xifeng to import fruit from their nation. In recent years, relations between the two countries had grown increasingly tense, cutting off commercial exchanges, so the late Emperor had considered cultivating the crops himself.

It was only before he had the chance to do so that the late Emperor passed away suddenly, leaving these thousand qing of land in the capital’s outskirts abandoned for three years.

For such a vast expanse of land not to be used for cultivation was too great a pity, so Xie Chongjin immediately had Lin Chanzhi put it to use.

Specialized skills require specialized expertise; no matter how brilliant Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao were, neither had personally tilled the fields. Physical labor was an insurmountable challenge for Lu Xuechao; with his frail constitution, standing under the sun in the fields for even a short moment would cause him to faint, and his smooth hands, devoid of a single callus, were even less capable of lifting a hoe. Xie Chongjin would never let him endure such hardship under any circumstances. Given the low level of productivity at present, developing agriculture required finding talent on a national scale.

Yet it came with no effort at all—Lin Chanzhi was delivered right under their noses.

Among the imperial consorts, each possessing their own extraordinary talents, Lin Chanzhi appeared to be the most unremarkable, but there was one point that could not be overlooked: while the others were Plot Consorts, mere supporting characters, he was the protagonist of the Consort Route.

In his past life, after Lu Xuechao learned fortune-telling, he calculated the horoscopes of all the Plot Consorts. Qin Yulong was the General Star, Wang Yiming was the Wealth Star, Fu Xinian was the Wenchang Star… each one more extraordinary than the last. Yet the hexagrams also revealed that every single one of these stars had dimmed and fallen.

Even if they were still alive, they could no longer realize their true worth.

When he calculated Xie Chongjin’s horoscope, the Fate Palace held Ziwei, the ruler of the star charts and the emblem of an emperor, towering above all other horoscopes. Viewed this way, it was understandable that the others were supporting characters while Xie Chongjin was the protagonist.

As for himself… Lu Xuechao had never cast a hexagram for himself. The master who taught him divination said that the Tianji Star entered his Fate Palace—commonly known as the Mastermind Star—making him inherently a military strategist destined to assist the Imperial Star. However, with Ziwei entering his Spouse Palace, he was born with the fate of a Phoenix.

Since his role was to assist the Imperial Star, acting as a supporting character made sense as well.

Although becoming a game protagonist was no joyous fortune, looking at it from another angle, anyone capable of becoming a protagonist was by no means an ordinary person. At the very least, they possessed great wealth, noble status, immense virtue, and extraordinary fortune.

Xie Chongjin was the Ziwei Imperial Star, so what did Lin Chanzhi rely on?

The master had offered only two words:

“Shennong.”

–

In his past life, Lin Chanzhi had been trapped in the deep palace with little opportunity to hold a hoe, only tending to flowers and plants or growing a few chives and peppers in his quarters.

Lu Xuechao deeply felt that this was an immense waste.

He simply gave him a plot of land to see what wonders he could cultivate.

This was the first time the two of them had come to Lin Manor. Busy with court affairs in the palace over the past few months, they had not yet come to view this land on the capital’s outskirts. Since it was on their way, they stopped by to take a look.

Lifting the window curtain, a fresh new scene came into view.

When Xie Chongjin had previously passed through this place on his way out of the city, it had been desolate, overgrown with weeds, and devoid of human presence; now, however, it was entirely transformed.

These thousand qing of land were not prime fertile fields, but dry land that originally relied on rainfall from the heavens. Lin Chanzhi had dug canals to divert water from the moat outside Yujing, and then constructed waterwheels to irrigate the farmland, completely resolving the water source issue.

Now, looking out across the landscape, a lush expanse of green filled the fields, with plump, dark-green watermelons lying across the ground. A group of farmers wearing bamboo hats was harvesting the watermelons, loading them onto carts to be transported to Huaman Pavilion in the capital. Another section of land had just been planted with rice, where a group of farmers had rolled up their sleeves and were busy transplanting seedlings in the muddy water.

Such a vast expanse of land could not possibly be cultivated by Lin Chanzhi alone. From digging canals, weeding, sowing, fertilizing, irrigating, to harvesting, there were hands dispatched by Xie Chongjin to assist. Lin Chanzhi served primarily as an agricultural researcher responsible for seed breeding and improvement; he was not actually being used as a mere farmer—that would be a terrible waste of talent.

Lin Chanzhi had just finished his work in the fields and was sitting in the courtyard eating watermelon to beat the heat, looking at the broad fields before him with a deep sense of accomplishment.

When he noticed the newly arrived carriage, he paid it no mind at first, assuming it was hands sent from the palace to help. But when he caught a sudden glimpse of the side profile of the person inside the carriage, Lin Chanzhi’s eyes widened, and he nearly choked on his watermelon.

His Majesty and the Empress? Hadn’t they left for Jiangnan? Why had they come to his place?

Oh, right… leaving the city required passing through the suburban outskirts…

Lin Chanzhi swallowed the watermelon whole, wiped his mouth, and hurried forward to bow.

Xie Chongjin said, “There is no need for formal etiquette outside the palace.”

Lin Chanzhi abruptly checked his knees just as they were about to bend, overwhelmed by the favor: “Are Your Majesty and Your Highness here to inspect the land?”

Xie Chongjin replied, “Or did you think we came to see you?”

Whenever players used to raise favorability with the Plot Consorts, Xie Chongjin would try every possible means to prevent them from developing feelings for him. To that end, he had developed a set of blunt, straightforward responses that had become pure instinct, automatically releasing them toward anyone other than Lu Xuechao.

Lin Chanzhi: “…”

Thank you. He no longer felt favored, nor was he overwhelmed.

Lu Xuechao: “…”

He vaguely recalled that Huaiyun, in his youth, had been someone of exceptionally high emotional intelligence, capable of easily winning over others with just a few words.

Games truly ruined people.

Lu Xuechao said, “Come up into the carriage.”

“Ah?” Lin Chanzhi froze.

Get up… up where?

Share a carriage with His Majesty and the Empress?

How could he possibly dare do that?

Lin Chanzhi shook his head repeatedly: “This humble servant can just stand here and speak. I’ve just come out of the fields, and my shoes are covered in mud; it will dirty Your Highness’s carriage.”

The Empress looked far too pristine. Both His Majesty and His Highness were noble personages of precious status, whereas he was covered in dust; he felt as though he would defile the two of them.

Lu Xuechao said, “We do not engage in agriculture. Without your explanations along the way, we would not understand what we are looking at.”

Lin Chanzhi understood; this was an inspection of his performance.

Lin Chanzhi said nervously, “Then please wait a moment, Your Majesty and Your Highness. This humble servant will go inside to change into a pair of fresh shoes.”

Lin Chanzhi changed into new shoes as fast as he could, even switching into a fresh set of clothes.

When he stepped onto the carriage, his extreme nervousness nearly made him trip.

Lin Chanzhi flushed bright red, but once he stepped inside the carriage, he had no mind left to think of anything else.

His head was filled with a single thought: Wow, wealthy people really know how to live.

Because this was an incognito trip, the exterior of the carriage looked very low-key and unremarkable, at most slightly larger than a normal carriage.

Inside, however, was a whole different world. To prevent Lu Xuechao from feeling the exhaustion of the journey, Xie Chongjin had arranged the interior with extreme comfort. The seats were soft, so sitting for long periods would not cause stiffness. Thick, soft carpets covered the floor, allowing one to lie back and rest. All four walls were lined with cushions to ensure no one would get bumped or bruised. Ice blocks were also placed inside the carriage, allowing them to feel cool even in the heat of midsummer without growing irritable from long travel. In the center stood a low table set with fruits and pastries.

Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao sat together, while Lin Chanzhi cautiously sat on the opposite side. He hadn’t seen clearly while standing outside, but viewing him from such a close distance now, he realized the Empress’s eyes and lips were slightly flushed, making his clear, elegant countenance carry a touch of cold glamour that was breathtakingly beautiful.

Lin Chanzhi hadn’t dared look directly, but because that beauty was so radiant, he was mesmerized after taking just one glance.

Xie Chongjin said out of nowhere, “Is he good-looking?”

Lin Chanzhi jolted, suddenly realizing he had breached propriety before His Majesty and the Empress. Just as he was about to plead for forgiveness, Xie Chongjin imperiously declared his sovereignty: “Mine.”

There was no sense of blame in his voice, only sheer boasting.

Lin Chanzhi: “…” Yes, yes, yes, he’s yours.

Lin Chanzhi had joined the table of dogs as well.

Lu Xuechao, on the other hand, felt a bit self-conscious upon noticing Lin Chanzhi staring at him. He had only cried in front of Xie Chongjin, but having his tear marks and kiss marks seen by an outsider was a completely different feeling.

Lu Xuechao offered a overly obvious coverup: “I applied the new eye powder and lip color developed by Huayan. If Young Master Lin likes it, I can have a box sent to you as well.”

Simple-minded Lin Chanzhi believed him and marvelled in his heart at how refined the Empress was. But were Huayan’s eye powder and lip rouge really that beautiful?

Men in Changli generally did not wear makeup, but Huayan loved experimenting with such things. To that end, he had humbly sought instruction from the Xifeng Prince, Helian Xi—the men of Xifeng Kingdom adorned themselves for those who pleased them, and all enjoyed applying cosmetics. Although Helian Xi preferred armor over red makeup, dressing up was a required course for Xifeng men, so he was highly knowledgeable about it. Helian Xi was bored in the palace anyway, so when Huayan came knocking, it gave him something to do. Their relationship had grown much closer because of this, making Helian Xi his first close friend in Changli.

With Helian Xi’s help, Huayan actually developed rouge and powder, and had recently been grabbing everyone in the inner palace to apply makeup on them as test subjects, with the Tanhua scholar becoming the very first victim. Last time during the routine morning assembly, when Fu Xinian showed up wearing bright red eyeshadow and bold red lips, he had given everyone quite a scare.

Perhaps Huayan’s technique had improved since then…

Lin Chanzhi spoke truthfully: “This humble servant often works in the fields and has no use for powders and rouge, but it looks very lovely on Your Highness.”

Then he noticed Xie Chongjin’s similarly rosy lips and asked curiously, “Did Your Majesty apply lip rouge as well?”

Xie Chongjin: “…”

–

An Ying drove the carriage through the field ridges, with the curtains on both sides pulled up. The scenery of the open countryside retreated rapidly outside the window, allowing the people inside the carriage to take in the passing view.

A thousand qing of land equaled a hundred thousand mu, stretching all the way from the capital’s outskirts to Pingcheng. Relying on two legs alone, one would never walk out of it in a lifetime. Changli possessed vast territory with a sparse population; what it lacked least was land. Yet huge swaths of land remained uncultivated, firstly due to a shortage of labor, and secondly due to inadequate water conservancy.

Lin Chanzhi spoke incessantly toward the window: “These hundred mu are watermelon fields. The watermelons have just ripened, perfect for beating the June heat. A portion is supplied to the palace, a portion goes to Huaman Pavilion as post-meal fruit, and another portion is sold to the common folk. The reaction among Yujing’s populace has been wonderful, and plans are underway to sell them to neighboring Pingcheng soon. Since Your Majesty and Your Highness are heading to Jiangnan, why not bring a few watermelons along to slake your thirst on the road?”

Xie Chongjin nodded; after the fatigue of long travel, being able to eat sweet, juicy watermelons on the road was indeed a grand enjoyment.

Just as Lin Chanzhi was about to step down from the carriage to personally pick a few large watermelons, he heard Xie Chongjin call out, “Shadow Guards, go harvest the watermelons.”

Before his voice even faded, several men in black materialized out of thin air and went into the fields to haul watermelons.

Shadow Guards were like bricks—to be moved wherever needed. Ever since expanding into coachman duties, they had now skillfully mastered watermelon harvesting.

Lin Chanzhi’s eyes widened in astonishment, witnessing for the first time the legendary Shadow Guards who came and went without a trace.

Where had all these people popped out from?

Shadow Guards had to maintain their secrecy, so Xie Chongjin naturally wouldn’t tell Lin Chanzhi about their whereabouts.

If he actually said it out loud, it wouldn’t sound mysterious at all; in fact, it would sound completely down-to-earth. Shadow Guards were human too, after all, and required rest. Though they seemed available twenty-four hours a day, they actually operated on a shift system. Numbers One through Ten worked daytime, while Eleven through Nineteen worked night shifts. If one didn’t want night shifts, they had to beat the top ten into submission to take over their numbers—a truly exhausting life for working men.

On ordinary brief journeys, the Shadow Guards remained hidden in the shadows, using light-footwork martial arts to follow Xie Chongjin. This time traveling thousands of miles south, relying solely on light-footwork would tire a person to death, so the Shadow Guards had also prepared horses to follow from a distance. With their astonishing hearing, a single call of “Shadow Guards” from Xie Chongjin allowed them to instantly sprint a hundred meters over.

Except usually they sprinted a hundred meters to catch assassins; today they were sprinting a hundred meters to haul watermelons.

Trained as killing machines, the Shadow Guards all felt a subtle sense of strangeness.

They dutifully harvested the watermelons. Since Xie Chongjin hadn’t specified how many he wanted, they cleared out everything within their field of vision, eventually hauling over a full hundred or more, until the carriage couldn’t even fit them all.

Xie Chongjin felt at a loss for words, marveling at the Shadow Guards’ rigid minds: “How about Empress and I step down, and invite the watermelons to take the seats?”

Shadow Guards: “…”

Lu Xuechao kept a dozen or so, estimating that it would be enough to eat along the road and in Jiangnan, and said, “You may take the rest to eat yourselves.”

These Shadow Guards had worked hard protecting them through wind and rain along the way, forced to choke down dry rations to satisfy their hunger, leaving them with stomach ailments as an occupational hazard.

The methods used by various nations to train Shadow Guards were exceedingly harsh, brainwashing them from childhood to strip away human emotions to the greatest extent possible. They were made into machines absolutely loyal to imperial power, death-knights giving their lives for the royal family, with no one treating them as human beings. This system had existed since ancient times and carried on to this day.

Lu Xuechao felt this was rather inhumane. He liked squeezing value out of usable people to make them work for him, but the premise was that the other party willingly followed while retaining their own thoughts, rather than becoming puppets stripped entirely of mind, unable to control their own fates.

This generation of Shadow Guards had been trained by the late Emperor—a gift left behind for Xie Chongjin. Yet Xie Chongjin did not intend to use such cruel methods to cultivate the next generation of Shadow Guards.

In An Ying’s character route, even if one achieved the final HE ending, An Ying spent his whole life addressing Xie Chongjin as “Master,” obeying his every command and viewing himself as a machine rather than a human being. Players found such a persona very dramatic, but Lu Xuechao only found it tragic to spend a lifetime without thoughts of one’s own.

It wasn’t that they lacked them; they were simply not permitted to have them.

Since they were altering destinies for the Plot Consorts, let An Ying change back from a machine into a human being as well.

…

The Shadow Guards looked at one another, not daring to accept without their Master’s word.

Xie Chongjin said, “The Empress’s command is My command.”

An Ying spoke up: “This subordinate thanks Master, and thanks Lord Spouse.”

If Master told them to eat, they would eat.

Thinking of the Shadow Guards’ single-track minds, Xie Chongjin added, “You may keep them to eat slowly along the way; there is no need to finish all eighty-plus watermelons in one sitting.”

Shadow Guards: “…”

Though they obeyed every command, they were not foolish to such an extent.

Amidst their speechlessness, a touch of emotion arose. Master and Lord Spouse would actually show care for Shadow Guards like them.

The Shadow Guards carried the watermelons back to divide and eat. An Ying used internal energy to split open a watermelon, then pulled down his face mask.

He possessed a young, stern face. He looked at the watermelon in his hand for a long moment before taking a slow bite.

Watermelon was a luxury item in Changli. Before Lin Chanzhi cultivated them in large quantities, even Yujing nobles found it difficult to eat a whole one, and sliced pieces were sold at exorbitant prices; Shadow Guards like them had certainly never tasted it.

Clear, sweet watermelon juice trickled down his throat, cutting through the summer heat.

Driving the carriage with one hand while holding a watermelon in the other, it was clearly a sweet flavor, yet somehow he tasted a hint of tartness. Loyalty to his Master had always been his conviction, but now he felt that conviction growing even stronger, resolving to protect Lord Spouse just as he protected Master.

Even an emotionless killer would be moved by tasting a bit of sweetness.

Perhaps it wasn’t that killers lacked emotion, but simply that they had never tasted sweetness before.

–

While An Ying outside was feeling complex emotions over a watermelon, inside the carriage, Lin Chanzhi was already talking animatedly, growing more excited as he spoke.

“This area is rice fields. Now that the seedlings are planted, they can be harvested in three or four months, yielding two thousand dan of grain. But this humble servant feels the grain yield is still insufficient and is thinking of improving the rice seeds, striving to yield more grain per mu so everyone in the world can eat their fill.”

“This plot is a vegetable patch, growing cabbage, radishes, tomatoes, green beans… The Emerald White Jade served at Huaman Pavilion uses the cabbage grown right here.”

“That field over there this humble servant prepares to plant with cotton. When winter comes, it can be made into padded clothes and quilts to keep the common folk warm.”

“This section is planted with mulberry trees to raise silkworms, which can produce silk for foreign trade.”

“The covered area over there is a greenhouse. Heated with fires, it can grow off-season vegetables and fruits, allowing people to eat fresh fruit all four seasons of the year.”

“This humble servant has also dug fish ponds to raise fish, and over there are the chicken and duck coops…”

In the palace, Lin Chanzhi acted timid, cowardly, and completely unremarkable. Yet as he gazed upon this field he had planned, he radiated brilliance and spoke with passionate intensity, as if beholding a kingdom he had personally conquered, every sentence filled with grand ambitions.

The light gleaming in his eyes was not the least bit inferior to Xie Chongjin’s or Lu Xuechao’s.

Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao could only admire him in awe, both feeling he had grabbed the wrong script. How had he accidentally ended up entering the palace when the countryside fields were clearly Lin Chanzhi’s true happy home?

Yet it was a blessing in disguise. Had Xie Chongjin not granted him these thousand qing of land to display his skills, alongside countless hands dispatched for him to deploy, Lin Chanzhi alone would never have been able to fully unleash his talents.

Xie Chongjin humbly asked for instruction: “Floods hit Jiangnan while severe drought strikes the Northern Marches. Both regions have suffered complete crop failures, leaving the populace starving. Do you have any solutions?”

Lin Chanzhi hesitated a moment, racking his brains to answer: “This humble servant does not understand disaster management. I only know that Jiangnan has many paddy fields suitable for growing rice, while the Northern Marches are suited for sorghum and corn. Jiangnan gets abundant rain, so dams should be built for flood control; dry lands lack rain, so irrigation canals should be dug to divert water. However, those are matters for post-disaster reconstruction. At present, we can only rely on the Imperial Court to provide disaster relief to address the pressing crisis. This humble servant will step up research into seed improvement to raise grain yield at the earliest date…”

Lu Xuechao said, “In earlier times, dams built for flood control required reinforcement year after year, and later fell into disrepair. When flooded rivers destroyed the dams, it cured the symptoms rather than the root cause. Damming is inferior to dredging; it would be better to excavate a grand canal to connect the northern and southern water systems, serving to divert floods for the south while relieving drought for the north, and creating a major water transport route—achieving three goals at once.”

It was only that the financial, human, and material resources required for such a project were beyond estimation.

Yet if not fundamentally cured, both regions would face annual disasters, creating even greater losses.

Xie Chongjin found his words deeply logical and began discussing disaster relief measures with Lu Xuechao, gradually moving beyond the scope of what Lin Chanzhi could understand.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, this humble servant must interrupt,” Lin Chanzhi said tremulously. “It is nearly dark, and if the carriage drives any further, we will reach Pingcheng. Do the two of you intend to bring this humble servant along to Jiangnan? Or perhaps set this humble servant down right here?”

Out here in the desolate wilderness, how he was going to walk back remained a serious question.

Xie Chongjin: “Shadow Guard, send Young Master Lin back.”

“Understood.” A Shadow Guard of unknown designation appeared instantly, executing light-footwork to scoop up Lin Chanzhi and fly all the way back.

Lin Chanzhi: “AAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Lin Chanzhi’s screams gradually faded into the distance.

Finally, only the two of them remained in the carriage once more.

Night fell, yet the interior of the carriage was not dark. The night-luminescent pearl embedded in the ceiling lit up, illuminating Lu Xuechao’s glowing eyes and brows.

Xie Chongjin rubbed the space between his brows and said in annoyance, “I wanted to steal a half-day of leisure, yet ended up talking about official business for half the day again.”

“Are you tired from riding in the carriage today? Once we reach Pingcheng, we’ll find an inn to stay at, enjoy a evening meal, and get a good night’s rest before setting out early tomorrow morning.”

Lu Xuechao looked over gently.

Xie Chongjin immediately said, “Alright, no waking up early.”