A Pawn's Passage

A hundred years was more than enough time for the people of Fenglin to familiarize themselves with the Daoist Order’s Nine-Rank System.

To outsiders, low-ranking Daoists were generally called Daoist Masters, fourth-rank priests were known as Mages, third rank as High Mages, second rank as Sages, and first rank as Great Sages. Only members within the Daoist Order would use internal titles among themselves. Such familiarity was a privilege.

At first, the leader’s use of “Honored Mages” to address them was just a polite gesture, much like how commoners might casually call any military officer “General.”

Similarly, they flattered any Daoist they met as a Mage, never expecting that the visitor would be a High Mage.

The leader nearly dropped into a full Dogeza bow on the spot.

Qi Xuansu stopped him from performing the grand gesture. “We’re not particular about kneeling. What’s your name? Are you from this jin’ya?”

The leader replied humbly, “High Mage, my name is Kinoshita Shin’uemon. I’m in charge of transporting ore to the jin’ya.”

Qi Xuansu asked, “Judging from your name, are you a samurai?”

“Nothing escapes you, High Mage,” Kinoshita Shin’uemon said hastily. “I once served as an ashigaru for the daimyo, so I was granted the Kinoshita name. Later, I was injured and reassigned here to haul ore.”

Qi Xuansu nodded, unsurprised.

Though the common folk of Fenglin had no last names, they did have paths to rise in status. One such path was to follow a daimyo into battle. Those who earned merit could be granted a last name and become the lowest class of samurai. This was similar to being granted Daoist Priest Kindred status. The higher-ranking samurai were hereditary, usually from local noble families.

Qi Xuansu got straight to the point. “I want to see your hatamoto. Please lead the way.”

Kinoshita Shin’uemon opened his mouth, as if to refuse, but he did not have the courage. In the end, he had no choice but to agree and led Qi Xuansu’s group toward the jin’ya.

Inside the stockade, workers—both men and women—bustled back and forth.

This surprised Qi Xuansu slightly. The Daoist Order was known for its emphasis on equality and often insisted on male-female pairings to the point of obsession. But in the relatively backward Fenglin, this kind of gender parity was quite rare.

However, in this jin’ya, women worked just like men, hauling ore and stepping on bellows. Unlike the timid, submissive women commonly seen in Fenglin, these women joked and laughed. Even when clashing with men, they showed no signs of backing down. Clearly, their status was not low. They were just like Daoist women, who would also take to the battlefield.

Dignity and status were not granted by others, nor could they be demanded with words alone. They must be earned through real actions and by adapting to the circumstances of the time.

This led to a deeper question. If someone could travel back in time and bring the Daoist Order’s system with them—telling the ancients to stop farming because it was unprofitable, to focus on commerce, overseas trade, and equality; to use gunpowder instead of cavalry; to discuss state matters collectively; to abandon Confucian principles; to enlighten the masses; and to abolish the emperor—any dynasty that tried all this instead of following the script written in history books would be doomed in no time. That would be a textbook case of failing to adapt to the environment.

As a Daoist woman, Lu Yuting could not help but praise what she saw along the way. “There’s a sense of vibrancy here.”

Han Yongfeng said, “If you ask me, it’s probably a manpower shortage. If there were enough hands, why would they let women work in the foundry?”

Lu Yuting bristled. “Why can’t women work in a foundry? Are you looking down on women?!”

Han Yongfeng waved his hand. “I don’t mean to look down on anyone. I’m just stating a fact. Men are physically stronger and more suited for heavy labor. So if there are men available, of course, they’d be chosen first. Don’t even bring up Daoist women. Most normal women can’t use cultivation to bridge the natural physical gap like you all do.”

Qi Xuansu did not join the debate. Instead, he was deep in thought.

From the smelting techniques to the scene before him, it occurred to him that certain people in Fenglin seemed to be intentionally imitating the Daoist Order.

The Daoist Order’s rule over Fenglin placed the region firmly under its control, but it had indeed brought development and progress. It was like raising a wolf. As a cub, it was easily controlled, but once grown, though still manageable, it would not be so obedient anymore. Whether it was ultimately a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.

While Lu Yuting and Han Yongfeng were still arguing over some grand philosophical issue, two figures emerged from a house in the center of the stockade. They wore straw baskets over their heads called a tengai, an okesa covering their shoulders, gloves, and a shoulder bag for keeping alms. Their legs were bound with cloth straps, and they wore straw sandals. Each held a shakuhachi flute.

Li Mingshan whispered, “They’re Komuso monks.”

Qi Xuansu asked, “What are Komuso monks?”

Li Mingshan explained, “They are monks of the Fenglin Buddhist Fuke Sect. They do not shave their heads, live in temples, and are allowed to carry weapons while traveling the land playing musical instruments. The Fenglin Buddhist Sect has always had entangled ties with the Fenglin Court and the Chancellor’s Office, and the Fuke Sect was granted numerous privileges. To even qualify as a Komuso, one must first be of samurai birth. Moreover, these Komuso monks were granted the special right to freely travel across various domains, which is why many spies would disguise themselves as Komuso. Their main temple is the Myoan-ji in Heian Capital.”

“Damn!” Han Yongfeng could not help but exclaim. “This Fenglin Buddhist Sect is truly absurd, eating meat, marrying and having children, and now they don’t even shave their heads. I really don’t know what’s left of their so-called renunciation.”

At that moment, the two Komuso monks spotted Qi Xuansu and his companions and instinctively reached for the hilts of their swords.

However, perhaps sensing Qi Xuansu’s overwhelming strength, they remained cautious and did not make any rash moves.

Qi Xuansu stared at the two, hesitating over whether to take them down.

If these monks were truly loyal to the Chancellor’s Office, they would not be this nervous at the sight of Daoist priests.

Just then, a woman’s voice rang out. “Every visitor here is a guest. Please, no conflict.”

Her Central Plains dialect was fluent and clear.

Qi Xuansu followed the voice and saw a woman step out of the house. She wore a haori over her shoulders, dressed entirely in male attire, with a tanto at her waist and a chukei fan in her hand. Yet her hairstyle and makeup were unmistakably feminine. She had side locks framing her face, neatly cut bangs across her forehead, and a coiled bun at the back secured by a decorative hair comb.

Kinoshita Shin’uemon hurried forward to report to the woman, “Lady Genki, this is High Mage Qi from the Daoist Order.”

The woman’s eyelid twitched slightly upon hearing the title “High Mage.” She gave Qi Xuansu a closer look. “Such a young High Mage—truly rare.”

Qi Xuansu asked, “Are you the hatamoto overseeing this local jin’ya?”

“That’s me. You may call me Genki, High Mage,” the woman replied.

In Fenglin, the first monarch officially recognized by the Central Plains Court was a woman, so having a female hatamoto was not particularly surprising.

Qi Xuansu said, “For the sake of Hatamoto Genki, I will let them go.”

With that, Qi Xuansu waved a sleeve at the two Komuso monks. “Whether you understand or not, if you’re still in front of me after 15 minutes, I can’t guarantee you’ll leave Izumo Province alive.”

After a brief hesitation, the two Komuso monks swiftly departed. From beginning to end, they did not utter a single word.

Qi Xuansu turned again to the female hatamoto. “Hatamoto Genki, in the Central Plains, we value the principle of reciprocity. I spared those two suspicious Komuso monks for your sake. Surely you’ll extend me the same courtesy, won’t you?”

Genki paused briefly, then smiled. “But of course. Welcome to my jin’ya, High Mage Qi. Follow me.”

Qi Xuansu and his party followed Genki into her residence. It was not lavish. In fact, it was quite modest. But what stood out most was the presence of tables and chairs.

Once everyone was seated, Genki looked around at the group and said, “I didn’t expect my humble jin’ya to receive a visit from four Mages and a High Mage, especially one so young. You are surely destined to become a great figure in the Daoist Order. It’s truly a great honor to have you here.”

Qi Xuansu replied, “It seems you’re quite familiar with the Daoist Order, Hatamoto Genki. You could roughly identify our ranks just by looking at our garments.”

Genki chuckled. “My husband was a merchant in the Western Continent, so I’ve traveled with him across many lands, not just within Fenglin, but to the Western nations, the New World, Borneo, Shakya, and also the Great Xuan Empire’s Lingnan, Qizhou, Jiangzhou, and Liaodong. In those places, it would be hard not to become familiar with the Daoist Order or the Holy Court.”

Qi Xuansu asked, “Where’s your husband?”

A trace of sorrow crossed Genki’s face. “He’s dead.”

Qi Xuansu’s expression remained unchanged. “My condolences.”

Genki studied Qi Xuansu’s face for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “I was the one who killed him. He picked up far too many vile habits at sea. He called himself a merchant, but he was more like a brutal pirate. I couldn’t endure his cruelty any longer. So one night, while he was drunk, I pierced his heart, took his treasures, returned to Fenglin, and bribed the local daimyo with gold to obtain the rank of hatamoto.”