Infinite Professions from a Pearl Collector
Chapter 31 - 29: My Great-Grandfather Has Already Eaten All My Suffering

Chapter 31: Chapter 29: My Great-Grandfather Has Already Eaten All My Suffering

When the Barbarians had first breached the borders, they had conquered three cities in a row, but it was all happening a thousand miles away. The nobles and officials of the Capital City had watched the disaster unfold from a safe distance. They paid lip service to their panic but felt little of the crisis in their hearts, some even taking the opportunity to profit from the nation’s misfortune.

But this time was different.

On the urgent military dispatch, every word wept blood—the iron cavalry of the Barbarian Race was driving deep into their territory, the garrisons along their path surrendering at the mere sight of them. Their vanguard was now aimed directly at the Capital City!

At this news, the entire Capital City erupted in chaos.

The court officials, who just days ago had been on edge over the Stepping Moon Thief, now truly felt what an omen of a fallen kingdom was like.

Inside his private chambers, Emperor Yang Zhao, who just moments ago had been thundering with fury over the failure to capture a single thief, now had an ashen complexion.

He slammed the military report to the floor, pointed at the Minister of War kneeling below, and roared, "What about the garrisons along the way? The grand armies I maintain? Are they all dead? Are they just going to stand by and watch the Barbarians march to my very doorstep?!"

The Minister of War, kneeling on the floor, his old face contorted in misery, was filled with grievance. "Your Majesty, it is not for our lack of trying!"

"Those garrisons along the route have long since stopped heeding the Court’s commands. They’re quicker than anyone when it comes to demanding money and supplies, but when the time comes to actually dispatch their troops, every last one of them feigns illness and refuses to move. They feign compliance while acting in defiance. We... your subjects are at our wit’s end!"

As soon as these words were spoken, it was as if a basin of ice water had been dumped over Yang Zhao’s head. His fury was instantly extinguished, leaving only a bone-chilling cold.

He knew the Minister of War was telling the truth.

The Great Zhao dynasty had been established for over two hundred years. After such a long period of peace, the regional garrisons had grown too powerful to control, gradually slipping from the Court’s grasp. But he had never imagined that these Vassal Towns, which had received the Emperor’s grace for generations, would dare to stand idly by at the dynasty’s moment of peril!

Their intentions were perfectly clear.

They were simply waiting for the Barbarians to sack the Capital City, waiting for him, the Emperor, to die without a proper burial. Then they could seize the opportunity to rise up and carve out their own kingdoms from the ruins of the empire!

"Treason... It’s all treason!" Yang Zhao slumped back onto the Throne, utterly dejected. An endless sense of sorrow and despair washed over him.

But this was no time to assign blame. Saving the Capital City—and his own life—was the top priority.

"Relay my decree." Yang Zhao forced himself to rally, ordering in a hoarse voice, "Order the Yulin Guard, defenders of the Capital City, to immediately step up war preparations! The entire army is to mobilize and meet the enemy outside the walls!"

The moment the Holy Decree arrived, the entire Yulin Guard camp was in an uproar. Immediately, a massive wave of desertions swept through the ranks of this so-called Emperor’s Personal Guard.

The Yulin Guard of today was a far cry from the battle-hardened, iron-willed army that had existed at the founding of the dynasty.

Two hundred years of peace had completely eroded its backbone. The Yulin Guard of today had become little more than a comfortable retirement home for members of the Royal Family and the spoiled sons of the aristocracy, a place for them to gain a bit of prestige.

When it came to leisurely pursuits like carrying caged birds, cockfighting, dog racing, sipping tea to the sound of music, or cavorting with courtesans, these men were all experts. But as for charging into battle to kill the enemy? They might as well just slit their own throats for a quicker end.

In truth, the ones responsible for the Capital City’s security were the Military Patrol Station and the Arresting Department. As for the defense of the Imperial City, that fell to Yang Zhao’s own private, elite soldiers—the Imperial Guard.

This force, constantly recruiting men from respectable commoner families, was cherished by Yang Zhao and thus still possessed some combat effectiveness.

But Yang Zhao knew in his heart that the Imperial Guard was his last trump card. They were there to protect his own life and could not be squandered in a battle outside the city walls.

Otherwise, if the city walls held but the Imperial Guard was wiped out, he might suffer an even more miserable death.

Therefore, even knowing the Yulin Guard was a troop of good-for-nothings, he still clung to the fantasy that these dandies could, in a moment of national crisis, revive the glory of their ancestors.

To that end, he even offered huge rewards and dispatched a trusted general to supervise the preparations.

The result? As soon as the general arrived at the camp, he was greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Some were packing their valuables, preparing to desert. Others were simply gathered together, openly malingering. A few even shouted defiantly at the arriving general.

"Send us to our deaths? Why should we?" a member of the Royal Family sneered. "Back in the day, when my great-great-grandfather fought alongside the Grand Ancestor Emperor to conquer this land, he endured all the suffering for us descendants. We’re here to enjoy the good life, not to throw our lives away!"

"Exactly! If you want to fight, you go fight. Don’t drag me into it!"

Faced with such defiance, the supervising general didn’t dare utter a single peep.

He knew that this group was full of Royal Family and Relatives or descendants of the dynasty’s founding nobles. He couldn’t afford to offend any of them.

And so, a grand mobilization for war devolved into a complete and utter farce.

A farce that was witnessed by countless interested parties within the Capital City.

「Lin Mansion.」

The night was deep and still, but the study was brightly lit.

The Patriarch, Lin Hong, sat in the main seat, his expression grave. Seated on either side below him were the core members of the Lin Family.

Even his good-for-nothing son, Lin Rui—the young master of the Lin Family and the previous occupant of Chen Ye’s body—had, for the first time ever, been permitted to attend.

It was Lin Rui’s first time attending such an important family meeting. He sat with his back ramrod straight, his face flushed with the excitement of being included.

Lin Hong’s gaze slowly swept over everyone present before he finally spoke. "I presume you are all aware of the situation outside."

He paused, as if gathering his thoughts, or perhaps giving the others a moment to digest his words.

"In my view, the fate of Great Zhao is sealed. The Yang Family can no longer hold the realm."

The moment he spoke, the entire room was stunned into silence. Even their breathing seemed to stop.

But Lin Hong continued as if he hadn’t seen their reactions. "As the saying goes, when the nest is overturned, can any egg remain unbroken? If the Lin Family is to survive these chaotic times, we cannot put all of our eggs in one basket."

His eyes grew sharp. "My meaning is, we should send someone to... make contact with the Grassland People from the north."

"Father!" Lin Rui’s older brother, the Lin Family’s eldest son Lin Qian, cried out in shock. "This... this is treason!"

"Silence!" Lin Hong snapped, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "What is treason? Since ancient times, the victor becomes the king and the loser is branded a traitor. For Noble Families like ours, does it make any difference whether the man on that throne is named Yang or Yelv?"

He stood and paced to the window, gazing out at the heavy darkness.

"What’s important is that no matter who rules the realm, our Lin Family must endure for generations. To achieve that goal, placing our bets early is a necessity."

To someone like Lin Hong, who regarded the continuation of his family as the highest creed, concepts like loyalty and patriotism were just jokes used to fool the common folk. Betting on both sides and playing all angles—that was the fundamental Law of survival in chaotic times.

"This matter is the Lin Family’s highest secret. Only Heaven, Earth, you, and I know of it." Lin Hong turned, his gaze as sharp as a blade, and warned, enunciating every word, "If so much as half a word of this gets out, don’t blame me... for disregarding the bonds of kinship!"

Everyone fell deathly silent, nodding their heads in agreement.

Lin Rui was so excited his face turned bright red. He thought his father was simply brilliant, a true visionary!

He was already fantasizing about the future when the Grassland People became the masters of the Central Plains. As one of the first families to pledge allegiance, the Lin Family would enjoy boundless glory.

But at that moment, none of them knew that just behind the ridge of the study’s roof, a figure lay quietly in the shadows, as if one with the darkness itself.

The night wind swept past, lifting the fringe of his hair and revealing a pair of clear, bright eyes.