Chapter 3598 — It Must Be Fake

In his view, there was no need to think about it at all. Mine No. 10 was a dead pit, universally acknowledged as incapable of yielding good jade. Wei Zhao's final haul was bound to be a pile of waste—not a single good piece among them!

And that was precisely the effect Meng Jueming wanted. Newcomers who obeyed him, like Meng Zhou and Li Zhengming, could stay in the good mines and pull six or seven pieces of fine jade a day at the very least, while troublemakers like Wei Zhao were assigned to the dead pit that was Mine No. 10, toiling all day without winning so much as one good piece. Set the two side by side, and every newcomer present would naturally know which way to go!

Thrive those who follow me, perish those who defy me! That was the bare minimum Meng Jueming demanded of himself. If he could not manage even that among the worthless newcomers of Qingyun Pavilion, it would be a poor return on the cunning and authority of a senior steward brother. In truth, had Wei Zhao not spoiled his plans time and again, the experience of past years told him he would have reached that point long ago.

Yet now, not only had he failed to reach it, but a most ominous premonition had taken root in him—and its source was the scene from that very morning. For the sake of Wei Zhao of all things, the long-suffering wretch who had swallowed every insult for years had dared to defy him in public. To a man accustomed to having the final say, this was decidedly not a good sign!

The reason Meng Jueming could play the senior steward brother with such relish was, first, his wide web of connections. His backing might not have been the strongest, but by dint of scheming and cultivation he had made contact with figures in every quarter, weaving himself a rather decent net of relationships. Yet there was another, more important reason besides: the wretch himself, Kusheng Le.

By the rules of the Welcome Pavilion, the newcomers of the three pavilions were governed by two senior steward brothers apiece—which meant that under normal circumstances power was split evenly between them. But here in Qingyun Pavilion, thanks to the existence of that veritable oddity, Senior Brother Kusheng, Meng Jueming had been able to seize all authority without a shred of doubt. In fact, had it been anyone else with even a flicker of ambition, he would have found it no easy thing to accomplish. For though his seniority ran deeper, their standing was equal, and once rivalry began it would surely cost him endless trouble.

To this state of affairs Meng Jueming had been thoroughly well disposed—until today, when Kusheng had dared to defy his will in public and even attempted to reassign Wei Zhao's mine. That was nothing short of a challenge to his authority! Though the clash had ended in Kusheng's crushing defeat, it was hardly a good omen—especially with a restless creature like Wei Zhao egging him on from behind. Who knew what greater commotion might come of it before long!

In Meng Jueming's eyes, Kusheng was scarcely a rival worth the name—but a nuisance all the same, and best strangled in the cradle while it was still a sprout. The most practical way to do that was to subdue the rest of the newcomers before Kusheng could make trouble again. By then, with only a ragtag handful like Wei Zhao under his command, Kusheng could scheme himself hoarse and still never shake the standing of Meng Jueming, senior steward brother!

Meng Jueming led the flock of newcomers and stood there, grinning coldly, watching Wei Zhao—to dig all day in bitter labor and end up with not a single good piece: what sort of feeling was that? It would be enough to make a man want to dash out his own brains in despair!

As he watched the quality inspector haul his basket away, Wei Zhao's face remained as usual—even touched by the faintest suggestion of a smile. Yet to everyone watching, the fellow was plainly putting on a brave front!

"Heh, a posturing newcomer will posture to the end. To keep a straight face and cling to his dignity even now—truly, one cannot help but stand in awe!" Meng Zhou sneered, curling his lip.

What he could least abide was that airy, unruffled manner of Wei Zhao's—a posturer through and through. Of course, given the chance to show off himself, he would surely be glad enough to learn the trick; after all, it looked profound and formidable, and who did not love to play it cool?

"Hmph. To dare offend Senior Brother Meng—what ignorance of the heights of heaven and the depths of earth! Just wait and see how he cries in a moment!" Under Meng Jueming's deliberate guidance, some newcomers had already worked it out and were plainly beginning to edge toward him.

Before this, these ordinary newcomers without backing might have disliked Wei Zhao, but they would never have dared offend him so openly. After all, his performance on the very first day—dropping Meng Zhou in a single move—made plain that Wei Zhao was a hard nut indeed, and the consequences of crossing him were clearly none too pleasant.

But now, on one side lay the six or seven spirit jades of Meng Zhou and Li Zhengming, and on the other Wei Zhao's foreordained zero. With two paths so sharply divided before them, anyone who still could not choose would be a fool of the first order. To trample Wei Zhao to his face at this moment was, in Meng Jueming's eyes, a pledge of allegiance—no sense in sparing the boot, and if you delayed, you would be too late!

Since these people were all Heaven-rank adepts, they were naturally no fools. Once the first had worked it out, the rest quickly followed, each terrified of being branded an outlier by Meng Jueming, and they fell to mocking Wei Zhao with eager haste—their words growing uglier one upon another.

This pack of newcomers had no talent to speak of, but they were not altogether stupid! Meng Jueming burst into smug, hearty laughter. This was the effect he wanted! Kusheng, oh Kusheng—a worthless good-for-nothing such as you, one seen but once in ten thousand years, thinks to contend with me? Go piss in a puddle and take a good look at your own sorry, wretched self!

But before his laughter had died away, the next words from the quality inspection office left everyone struck dumb—each one like a duck with its neck wrung, faces flushing crimson, yet unable to force out a single word.

"Wei Zhao: eight pieces of good jade, seven pieces of waste jade! Twenty pieces of rubbish jade!"

Rubbish jade meant the sort that was obviously waste at a glance—the kind no other newcomer would deign to take, and which of course counted as a tribute to the senior brothers. A hundred thousand pieces before one could trade for a reward—when in the name of heaven would that ever come around? Better to offer it up to Meng Jueming than let it rot in one's own hands.

But set the rubbish jade aside—Wei Zhao's waste jade, though far fewer than Meng Zhou's and Li Zhengming's, was not the point. The point was the good jade, the thing that mattered most: he had eight pieces of it!

How could there be eight? Was that not a dead mine that could not produce a single good piece? If any newcomer could pull eight fine pieces on his first day, what sort of dead mine was that? That quality could rank above Mine No. 7! It was nearly a match for Mines No. 5 and No. 6!

"This... it must be fake, surely?" Not only Meng Zhou and the others—this time even Meng Jueming was left gaping, tongue-tied! RS