Chapter 65: Why Not Eat Meat Porridge

Qingqiu was silent for a long while before finally speaking, “If Brahma Pure Land were to step in as mediator and persuade Ming and Han to sell grain to Great Chu, what would you say?”

Fan Li found it amusing. Brahma Pure Land truly placed itself above all others!

“What if the mediation fails?” he asked.

Qingqiu frowned, “How could it fail? As long as we can spare the people from famine and war, every Holy Lord of Brahma Pure Land would be willing to intervene.”

“Nine Holy Lords, nine masters of the Grand Ascension Realm—are you here to mediate, or to start a fight?” Fan Li retorted with biting irony.

Qingqiu was left speechless.

Fan Li continued, “And if Ming and Han refuse even the face of your nine great Holy Lords, then what?”

“If the emperors of those two nations stand by and let innocent citizens starve, it would prove their cruelty and lack of virtue—they are unworthy to rule the world. Brahma Pure Land could seize them and appoint worthy, virtuous successors to the throne.”

Fan Li burst into loud laughter, his scorn and contempt for Brahma Pure Land clear in every note.

“Where did I go wrong?” Qingqiu’s temperament was always aloof; even as Fan Li mocked her, she felt no anger and would never act out of personal wrath.

Fan Li laughed for a long time before he stopped. “But what if the people of those nations support their emperors and refuse to sell their grain, then what?”

Qingqiu shook her head repeatedly, “Human nature is fundamentally good. I don’t believe the people would be so selfish. Even if there are some, it would only be a small minority—the majority would surely be willing to aid the innocent citizens of Chu.”

“Human nature is good?” Fan Li smiled and shook his head, uninterested in debating that false proposition.

“The sages say, ‘When poor, keep oneself pure; when prosperous, help the world!’”

“When the people of Ming and Han see Chu stricken by disaster, they’ll surely worry about famine spreading to their own lands. They will hoard grain in large amounts, leaving nothing to sell—then what?”

Qingqiu opened her mouth, but after a long pause managed only a single word, “This…”

Hoarding grain? It was only Fan Li’s hypothesis, but Qingqiu could find no way to refute it, no matter how she turned it over in her mind.

Fan Li knew she could not rebut him. What were the Holy Lords of Brahma Pure Land, after all? No matter how lofty, she was still human, and could never wholly escape human nature.

Fan Li’s prediction about the people hoarding grain was rooted precisely in human nature. It was neither evil nor a flaw, but simply the most basic, honest principle:

Survival is the foremost need of all life.

Qingqiu Holy Lord fell into deep silence.

She had spent years maintaining a detached, desireless state of mind, but she was always above the masses, noble beyond compare.

Grain?

Within Brahma Pure Land, even low-tier cultivators who had not yet reached the fasting stage never needed to worry about food.

Why had this trivial matter, never given a second thought, become the tool with which Fan Li silenced her?

Qingqiu finally showed a rare hint of irritation.

She looked at Fan Li with displeasure and asked, “Are you deliberately exaggerating things to make it difficult for me?”

Fan Li shook his head and turned to leave.

He said nothing further to Qingqiu, knowing wherever he went, she would follow.

The Pavilion of Rivers and Mountains.

One floor was used to store countless books and records, which Fan Li had long treated as his study.

He searched through the piles of books, while Qingqiu waited, her brows slightly furrowed, for his answer.

“Found it!”

Fan Li pulled out something that looked like a ledger. Qingqiu saw three characters on the cover: The Book of Peace.

He opened it to a page and explained, “This is The Book of Peace, arranged by heaven, earth, people, and events, recording everything since Great Chu was founded.”

Qingqiu nodded silently, signaling him to continue.

“Let’s take the late emperor’s reign as an example. In the tenth year, there was a great drought; not a single grain was harvested, and a million peasants went hungry. The late emperor opened the granaries, exhausting all stores, yet the suffering continued.”

“In the twenty-second year, locusts arose, fields destroyed beyond measure, people turned to cannibalism.”

“In the forty-fifth year, a great earthquake…”

Fan Li read page after page from The Book of Peace, while Qingqiu listened in silence, chills spreading down her back.

Was this a Book of Peace? It was more like a book of calamity!

Qingqiu almost felt that with every turn of the page, hundreds of thousands—even millions—were struggling in misery.

She couldn’t help but ask at last, “Why don’t commoners cultivate? Once they reach the Golden Core stage, they can fast and never need suffer hunger and cold again.”

Fan Li paused in flipping through the book, and smiled again.

Qingqiu almost feared his smile. As if every time Fan Li smiled, he was mocking her—and foretelling that she was wrong yet again.

“Am I mistaken? Cultivation increases lifespan, cures disease, allows fasting, transcends the mundane…” Qingqiu spoke, but trailed off mid-sentence.

Fan Li waited until she fell silent before saying, “Does Holy Lord know how much a Spirit Gathering Pill costs?”

Spirit Gathering Pill?

Qingqiu struggled to recall, and finally remembered it was the most basic pill—used for novice cultivators to gather spiritual energy and embark on the path of cultivation.

As the most basic pill, its cost couldn’t be too high.

“It’s quite cheap. Press juice from a single Sprouting Spirit Herb and remove impurities; that’s enough to refine one Spirit Gathering Pill,” Qingqiu answered, growing more confident.

In Brahma Pure Land, low-tier herbs like Sprouting Spirit Herb were almost worthless, no different from roadside weeds.

“If the emperors of Chu, Han, and Ming were generous and distributed one Spirit Gathering Pill to every citizen, then all could cultivate. Once they all reached the Golden Core, they would have nothing to fear from drought or locusts…”

Fan Li interrupted her before she could finish.

“My Great Chu has about three hundred million registered citizens.”

“Han has about two hundred seventy million.”

“Ming has the most, nearly four hundred million.”

Fan Li spread his hands and smiled.

“If everyone cultivates, we’d need nearly a billion Spirit Gathering Pills. Tell me, Qingqiu, is there enough Sprouting Spirit Herb in the world?”

Qingqiu opened her mouth, but couldn’t utter a single word.

“And even if the three emperors gave away a billion pills for free, do you really think they have the wealth to do so?”

Qingqiu gritted her teeth, “What about normal trade? If all three nations refined as many Spirit Gathering Pills as possible and let more people embark on cultivation, every life saved is one less suffering.”

Fan Li nodded, then shook his head.

Still the mindset of Brahma Pure Land—naïve kindness, shallow ideals.

“In Han and Ming, the average family’s annual income is only enough to buy one Sprouting Spirit Herb.”

“In Great Chu, which is wealthier, a family’s yearly income can buy one and a half.”

“One Spirit Gathering Pill lets a person enter the first stage of Body Refinement.”

“Tell me, from the first stage of Body Refinement to the first stage of Golden Core, reaching the fasting goal, how many rare treasures are needed along the way?”

Let the numbers speak.

Who was Fan Li? The foremost minister of Great Chu?

No!

More accurately, every grain of rice, drop of oil, thread and needle for the people’s daily lives—all those details were stored in his mind.

“I… was wrong?” Qingqiu finally whispered.

On her flawless, expressionless face, a single clear tear slid down unnoticed.

Even in sorrow, Qingqiu’s countenance remained unmoved.

Fan Li answered with a single phrase.

“Why not eat meat porridge?”