Chapter 565: Willing To Die For Profit

"No more wine?"

On this day, just as Li Fan was about to pull his companion in for another round of drinking, he received this reply.

He was utterly flabbergasted.

Sima Changkong's face was faintly flushed, his words seeming to catch in his throat.

Finally, he scratched the back of his head and said, with some embarrassment, "I don't have many friends here in the Congyun Sea, so I didn't prepare much. Brother Li, you've been my guest for quite some time now..."

Li Fan counted on his fingers, then said with surprise, "I hadn't realized time passed so quickly. A full year, gone in the blink of an eye."

He spoke apologetically. "Since Brother Sima finds my presence a bother, it's time for me to leave. But before I go, please tell me the ingredients for that wine. I'll go gather some for you..."

Before he could finish, Sima Changkong's face went a deep crimson. He waved his hands hurriedly. "Brother Li, what are you saying? It's not that I'm complaining, it's truly..."

He opened his mouth to explain, but after a moment he shook his head and gave up, looking dejected. "Forget it. Brother Li, please wait here. I'll be back in a few days!"

With that, without waiting for Li Fan's response, he hurried away.

This Sima Changkong is quite a character. Li Fan watched his retreating figure with a wry smile.

Though he hadn't stepped outside in the past year, Li Fan was not entirely ignorant of events in the wider world. His avatar, Zhou Qing'ang, had been swamped with work.

Setting aside the numerous miscellaneous tasks, the most critical matter was the monthly conscription roster.

Indeed, even though the combat strength of the Congyun Sea region was already pitifully weak, the headquarters of the Immortal Alliance had still issued conscription orders. Fortunately, given Congyun Sea's actual circumstances, most conscripted cultivators weren't sent to the front lines; they were assigned to logistics and support roles instead.

Even so, no one could guarantee the war's scale wouldn't suddenly expand, catching bystanders in the crossfire. No one wanted to be conscripted and shipped off to Tianling Province.

The task of arranging the roster had naturally become a thorny assignment.

In theory, it should have been finalized by Li Fan, the Secretary-Envoy. But Li Fan had "gone into seclusion." The duty should then have fallen to his trusted subordinates—He Zhenghao and Gao Yuan, acting under his authorization, to make joint decisions.

But He Zhenghao played the amiable peacemaker, and Gao Yuan was all about being agreeable and diplomatic. Neither wanted to make enemies. If the conscripted cultivator died on the battlefield, that was one thing. But if he survived and returned with military honors, wouldn't they have made a mortal enemy for nothing?

So the two privately sought out the relatively reclusive "Zhou Qing'ang" and asked for his help.

Zhou Qing'ang refused outright. He had no reason to take on such a troublesome burden.

But soon, He Zhenghao played his trump card.

"Fellow Daoist Zhou, look here," he said, producing a scroll with an air of mystery and unfurling it before Zhou Qing'ang.

"Liu Yihang, ten million contribution points. Zhou Peng, eight hundred thousand contribution points. Sikong Yi, three hundred thousand contribution points..."

Scanning the familiar names, "Zhou Qing'ang" pretended not to understand. "What is this?"

He Zhenghao cleared his throat softly. "This is the contribution point ledger from last year's fundraising plan I organized. The one-year term has arrived, time to return the principal and interest. Fortunately, with the Secretary-Envoy's guidance, I managed to sell off all the stockpiled materials after their prices had risen to more than three times."

He paused, barely suppressing his pride. "In the end, the total came to roughly three hundred and fourteen million, five hundred and seventy thousand contribution points."

Zhou Qing'ang drew a sharp, suitably impressed breath. "That much? I'd heard battlefield supplies were in high demand, but I never imagined the prices had become so outrageous. Doesn't the Myriad Immortals Alliance do anything to regulate it?"

"Regulate? How?" He Zhenghao waved the concern away with utter nonchalance, a far cry from the anxious man of a year ago. "Trade is a matter of mutual consent. If you're unwilling, you simply don't buy. In any case, every extra bit of preparation means another chance for survival on the battlefield. If you won't buy, plenty of others will!"

Zhou Qing'ang gave a slight shake of his head and offered no further comment.

"So then, what's the meaning of showing me this, Fellow Daoist He?" Zhou Qing'ang took another glance at the scroll, feigning confusion.

He Zhenghao exchanged a look with Gao Yuan, then scanned their surroundings. With a casual gesture, he deployed a concealment array. Only then did he seem to relax.

He produced a brush and circled five names on the scroll. Then, with a heavy stroke, he drew a slash through each one.

Zhou Qing'ang made a show of sudden realization, dropping his voice. "These cultivators... they perished in the battle of Tianling Province!?"

"Quiet, quiet!" He Zhenghao jumped, hastily gesturing for him to lower his voice. "This is not something to be broadcast. It's only because I consider you one of us, Fellow Daoist Zhou, that I'm telling you," he said, with a note of reproach.

Zhou Qing'ang nodded repeatedly, indicating he understood the gravity.

"So you mean... the principal from these individuals is now unclaimed?" he whispered.

A thread of excitement colored He Zhenghao's tone. "Precisely. I made discreet inquiries. The ones I circled have indeed, without a doubt, fallen on the Tianling Province battlefield. Furthermore, they left no wills behind. The combined principal from the five amounts to three hundred and thirty thousand contribution points. Add the three hundred and thirty thousand in dividends they are owed..."

Li Fan cut him off. "Didn't you say it tripled? Why is the dividend only three hundred thousand?"

He Zhenghao snorted. "The three hundred thousand is only because the Secretary-Envoy, in his generosity, adjusted the profit-sharing ratio. Otherwise it would be less. According to the original agreement, we only needed to provide a profit of fifty percent of the principal per year. But since the Envoy was being merciful, I couldn't very well argue."

He leaned in. "In any case, these six hundred and sixty thousand contribution points are now ownerless. If you, Fellow Daoist, are willing to help settle this matter, they are yours." His voice was thick with temptation.

"Zhou Qing'ang" was clearly tempted. Yet he still feigned a measure of hesitation.

"It won't be discovered, will it? Profiting from the dead carries a certain stigma. And... does the Secretary-Envoy know about this?" Zhou Qing'ang asked pointedly.

He Zhenghao's eyes flickered, but he thumped his chest in assurance. "Set your mind at ease, Fellow Daoist Zhou. The list of participants in the fundraising is absolutely confidential, known only to a handful of us. There is no chance of it leaking. Moreover, I did ask the Secretary-Envoy. He said I could handle this matter myself."

"Is that so..." Zhou Qing'ang held He Zhenghao's gaze, steady and unblinking, until the other man began to shift with unease. Only then did he look away.

"In that case, leave this matter to me," Zhou Qing'ang agreed.

He Zhenghao and Gao Yuan exchanged a glance, their faces brightening with relief.

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