Sima Lan

Chapter 378: Sima Lan

“Qi Mohism? Liang Mohism?” The two terms were utterly foreign to Li Huowang. Were there multiple branches of the Mohist school? And what was this “heretical Liang Mohism” they spoke of?

He looked at the gaunt man beside him and the black bird on his shoulder. After a moment’s thought, he finally asked, “Brother Sima, what is Qi Mohism, and what is Liang Mohism?”

Sima Lan looked genuinely surprised that Li Huowang didn’t know this. Soon, the blind black bird on his shoulder spoke:

“They were all one school once. But one man, one thought; ten men, ten thoughts; a thousand men, a thousand thoughts. When the Grand Master died, Mohism naturally began to split.”

“The Liang branch still follows the same core tenets as other Moists—understanding ghosts, Heaven’s will, and rejecting fatalism. But they twisted the original Grand Master’s meaning, strayed down the wrong path, and ended up in league with the Eastern Quake Hall. Now they’ve become what they are—neither human nor ghost…”

Hearing his own bird say these words, Sima Lan’s expression grew heavy, as if recalling unpleasant memories.

Li Huowang could see the pattern now. Whether someone was a “heretic” depended entirely on whether they threatened the stability of the Great Liang Empire. If they didn’t, even the most revolting acts were considered orthodox.

He stopped asking questions. It was just a matter of a sect splitting—nothing he needed to waste his energy on. Compared to other people’s troubles, he had more than enough of his own.

Since he now knew that the North Wind was a Heart-Element who could escape hallucinations, his next step was clear: find out where the North Wind was, and how to get the method from him.

Cooperation? He discarded that option the moment it crossed his mind. The Zuowandao were not to be trusted. If they learned he was a Heart-Element, he would never know peace again.

His only option was to find the North Wind and pry the method from his mouth by force.

And as for how to apply that force… the Supervisory Heavenly Office was the most important tool he could find right now. Why else would he have gone to all this trouble to infiltrate them?

As they walked along the corridor, Li Huowang’s sharp ears caught strange sounds coming from within the walls.

The thud of wood, the flap of bird wings, the hurried patter of human footsteps.

Li Huowang paid it no mind and followed Sima Lan forward. Just then, a eunuch-like man passed by them silently, head bowed, hugging the wall with humble deference.

The moment he brushed past the corner, a section of the wall slid open.

In that instant, Li Huowang caught a glimpse inside. By the broad windowsill in the distance, all kinds of birds were constantly landing and taking off.

Attendant eunuchs untied the paper slips from the birds’ legs, placed them into small bamboo tubes, and sent them down along thin lines into a strange structure assembled from bamboo pipes. At a glance, it looked like a spider made of bamboo rods.

But this bamboo spider was clearly damp with mold—patches of various sizes covered its surface. It wasn’t just the outside; the wooden gears turning inside were also covered in mold spots.

With a series of clicking sounds, the messages taken from the birds’ legs were distributed through the “spider’s” conduits to the eunuchs all around.

These eunuchs, with practiced skill, sorted the paper slips into categories and turned to place them into small cabinet drawers behind them, like an apothecary’s medicine chest.

Eunuchs, messenger birds, a bamboo spider… everything moved with speed and efficiency, each person mechanically performing their assigned task.

As Li Huowang was processing this information, Sima Lan suddenly turned left and began descending a staircase past a row of closed doors.

“Remember this mark. The Gate of Rest or the Gate of Life—either works. Just don’t take the wrong one.” With a push, Sima Lan revealed a dim, hazy hall before Li Huowang.

The hall was filled with many folding screens. The shadows cast on them—some sitting, some standing—proved that someone was behind each screen. Yet their voices were extremely indistinct; even Li Huowang couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Walking through this forest of dark silhouettes and strange, muffled murmurs, Li Huowang felt an intense sense of the uncanny. Was this really the Supervisory Heavenly Office, and not some ghost market somewhere?

He had to admit, his heart had raced when he first entered, terrified his identity would be exposed. Fortunately, he had passed safely—Zhuge Yuan’s spindle was proving very useful.

Li Huowang carefully examined his surroundings. He noticed the same problem as before: the screens and the pillars were dotted with mold spots, making what should have been an imposing hall look filthy and decrepit.

“Brother Sima, does this place get a lot of damp southern winds? Why is everything so moldy?” Li Huowang asked, feigning casual curiosity.

“Perhaps. It wasn’t like this before. It only started this year.”

After saying this, Sima Lan pointed ahead. “Since it’s your first time, go to the Astral Secretary first to register your watch. After that, I’ll explain things in more detail.”

Following the direction the bird flew, Li Huowang soon spotted a man standing behind a high counter, similar to a pawn shop. He held his left hand behind his back and was counting on his fingers with a grave expression.

He wore a long robe and had an ordinary face. If not for the setting, Li Huowang might have mistaken him for a storyteller in a teahouse.

“Nangong, add a Geng flag and register his watch.” Sima Lan’s bird flew onto the table and pecked the surface with its beak.

The man, who was still doing his calculations, didn’t even glance at Li Huowang. With an air of calm detachment, he extended the hand he’d been holding behind his back. “Your token.”

The man named Nangong felt the patterns on the token and tossed it back. “Enjiu, is it? Erniu told me about you before he left.”

Li Huowang remembered that the Chief Recorder’s name was something like Erniu.

Watching Sima Lan chat with Nangong, Li Huowang’s mind began to work on his next move.

Just as Sima Lan finished their conversation and was about to lead Li Huowang onward, Li Huowang suddenly spoke up.

“Brother Sima, since I’m new here, may I ask which person I should take my assignments from?”

Sima Lan looked a little surprised, but he didn’t show it. “Now that your token’s flag has been assigned, it’s not about who gives you work. You choose your own work.”

Sima Lan led Li Huowang back into the main hall, pulled open a screen, and walked inside.

Behind the screen was nothing but a table and a few stools. Sima Lan’s bird pecked the table again.

Soon, a pale-skinned eunuch entered and performed a grand bow to Li Huowang and Sima Lan. The shadows of all three men were cast onto the landscape-painted screen beside them.

“Ask him what assignments are available. He’ll know about any that came in this morning. He can also tell you how many Office members of lower rank than you are in this area, so you can pick who to work with.”

Hearing this, Li Huowang looked at the eunuch before him. He thought for a moment, then asked, “Is this how assignments are normally taken?”