Mythical Three Kingdoms

”Give me a receipt ledger. I’ll fill in the consolation money and the advance funds for you. Later, you can first exchange it for cash with Madame Zhang; after Mount Tai Bank relocates, transfer it over. By the way, part of these funds also includes Gong Youu’s Yellow River bridge construction costs,” Chen Xi said, changing the topic as he had no better suggestions about high-yield crop cultivation.

”Alright.” Li Youu pulled out a stack of specialized papers from his chest. The papers were of excellent durability and quality, resistant to water damage and not easily burned.

Chen Xi took the paper handed to him by Li Youu, rounded off the verified amounts, increased it by 5%, and rounded it into a whole number. He then added the official seal and his handprint before passing it back to Li Youu.

”Only 40 million coins? That’s far too little! This even includes the funds for building bridges and roads. Later on, it’ll be penny-pinching again,” Li Youu complained. Although he had been present during the verification process and knew Chen Xi had allocated slightly over the normal amount, it was still at a stingy level.

”This is just for next month. What more do you want? Plus, engineering funds aren’t meant to be paid all at once,” Chen Xi said with a slight sneer. No matter who was present, they always thought the allocated funds were insufficient whenever he dealt with the financials.

”Can’t you allocate more? It’s not like we’re broke. And if we are, isn’t that why we have you?” Li Youu complained, visibly dissatisfied. His main grievance was that despite having the ability to accelerate projects, Chen Xi persistently dragged his feet, which was truly frustrating!

”I’m not omnipotent. Within certain limits, fine, but beyond that, it’s just not feasible,” Chen Xi retorted, rolling his eyes. The core issue was still the untapped copper mines—until they were operational, balancing the funds and resources would be impossible.

During the Han Dynasty’s peak, the annual minting of standard coins was only a few billion. In years without minting, annual tax revenue exceeded 30 billion coins, which effectively meant there wasn’t any real money. The economy mainly relied on bartering goods or using fabric as currency. That was the primary reason for Mount Tai Bank’s existence. With no cash liquidity, credit acted as a placeholder. As long as no one initiated a run on the bank, even siphoning off 10 billion coins wouldn’t be noticeable—it was ultimately just a record of accounts!

Li Youu also knew there was no point in pestering Chen Xi about it. The calculated funds would always just suffice, though Chen Xi wouldn’t flinch while writing expenditures in the billions if the figures worked out.

”Keep an eye on that girl behind you; she has the aura of nobility about her,” Li Youu said, ceasing his complaints as he patted a document tucked away in his breast pocket—ready to use should the need arise.

”You say she has the aura of nobility?” Chen Xi turned his head curiously to glance at Xin Xianying. ”I don’t see it.”

”Want me to give you a book to learn about it?” Li Youu casually suggested. In his view, someone with Chen Xi’s capabilities could easily pick up such skills.

”No, I don’t have time for that nonsense,” Chen Xi replied, rolling his eyes. The strangest thing about Li Youu was that he seemed to dabble in everything. Occasionally, he’d even engage in stargazing for amusement. While he didn’t particularly believe in celestial phenomena, his faith in physiognomy was bizarrely strong.

”It’s simple—one or two days to get started, three to five months for basic proficiency. Whether you achieve great mastery depends on your talent,” Li Youu said matter-of-factly, treating Chen Xi as one of the rare, gifted learners.

”And her?” Chen Xi suddenly turned to look at the eavesdropping Zhen Mi.

”Her future is unspeakably great,” Li Youu raised an eyebrow and replied.

Zhen Mi blushed slightly. She understood physiognomy herself and knew what her features represented. While her interactions with Chen Xi had subtly altered her fortunes, she still exuded an extraordinary aura—albeit distinct from her past self.

”Oh, I’ll just consult my father-in-law; he’s far more reliable than you,” Chen Xi said, rolling his eyes. The Fan Family had a tradition of proficiency in such matters.

”Boom!” Suddenly, the ground trembled violently, followed by Gan Ning’s furious shout, ”You bastard! You broke my bell! I’ll fight you to the death!”

”I didn’t mean to!” came Ma Chao’s panicked yelp.

Having left Xuu Chu, Ma Chao went straight to Gan Ning. Little did he expect Gan Ning, such a rugged man, to be amusing himself with a bell and a cat. Naturally, being caught in such a situation made Gan Ning feel awkward and slightly embarrassed.

Though lacking social finesse, Ma Chao understood that this was not something to mention. He extended a hand to Gan Ning, signaling that he’d join in on the fun. His reasoning was simple—Pang De had taught him that sharing blame could significantly strengthen bonds.

Gan Ning willingly handed the golden bell to Ma Chao, who inadvertently applied too much force, shattering it instantly. The bell, a tool Gan Ning had once used for practicing Soft Force while training, wasn’t built to withstand Ma Chao’s immense strength.

Both were stunned—Ma Chao was speechless, and Gan Ning was in disbelief. The bell had previously survived being dropped in a scuffle with Xuu Chu during Gan Ning’s early training days on Mount Tai. Being sentimental, Gan Ning couldn’t tolerate its destruction and immediately erupted in rage.

”Forget about it—it doesn’t seem serious,” Li Youu said, glancing at Chen Xi. The more he understood Gan Ning, the more he realized the man, despite his fiery nature, had a grounded and pragmatic heart.

”I agree,” Chen Xi chuckled. ”If it were another military general shouting like that, they’d undoubtedly be looking to brawl. With Gan Ning, he’ll cool down soon enough. As for Ma Chao getting beaten up, that’s beyond concern—an Inner Qi Manifestation warrior only needs time to recover as long as they survive.”

”I’ll propose the relocation of the administrative center later this evening. Do you need to join me?” Li Youu asked. Such proposals naturally required reporting to Liu Bei.

In fact, this should have been brought to Liu Bei before Ye City was captured, but decisions hadn’t yet solidified at the time.

While Yuan Shao’s death had been anticipated, nobody expected it to happen so quickly. Something meant to be broached during the campaign’s final stages was delayed until now. Fortunately, they had valid reasons, and Liu Bei was unlikely to object.

Speaking of which, Liu Bei’s delegation of power was incredibly thorough. Even intelligence was overseen by Guo Jia, Jia Xu, and Chen Xi. However, there were two key domains—military command and rewards/punishment—that Liu Bei retained exclusively.

Chen Xi could directly mobilize troops, but that was only because of Liu Bei’s sword. Truthfully, Chen Xi didn’t even need Liu Bei’s sword to deploy forces, but he always carried it when issuing orders to disguise his own authority.

Similarly, when it came to rewards and punishments, Chen Xi’s role was purely advisory. He sometimes left room for Liu Bei to make final calls, ensuring the legitimacy of Liu Bei’s faction and guiding Liu Bei to embrace the responsibilities of a virtuous ruler as much as possible. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for it with recommendations and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users, please read on m.qidian.com.)