Chapter 1071: Power Vacuum

Faced with Zhang Yuelu’s firm command, Zhang Wenyue had no choice but to obey.

After all, the position of Second Deputy held greater authority than that of an ordinary Deputy Mansion Master. Moreover, Zhang Yuelu had already been acknowledged by the Heavenly Preceptor as the third-generation head of the Zhang family after Zhang Jucheng. This was no empty title. It carried genuine weight that even the senior members of the Zhang family had formally recognized.

The matter had long passed the stage of debate and was now settled. As a peer of Zhang Yuelu, Zhang Wenyue opposing her was effectively defying the Heavenly Preceptor’s authority. None of the clan elders would stand by him, and the consequences of such defiance would be dire.

More importantly, Zhang Yuelu was reasonable.

Thus, Zhang Wenyue ordered his subordinates to apprehend all persons involved in the case, including those within the Daoist Mansion who were guilty of inaction.

After that, Zhang Yuelu convened a council meeting at the Dongdu Daoist Mansion, extending attendance to the level of deacons. Several Deputy Mansion Masters joined the meeting remotely through the mother-child mirrors.

During the meeting, Zhang Yuelu made no direct mention of Lin Yin’s case. She only raised one issue—there was no such thing as a power vacuum. Once power was withdrawn, another force would immediately fill that void and seize control of the authority left behind. Thus, if those responsible for governance failed in their duties, others would naturally take their place.

That was why Beggar Gangs existed in so many cities. The magistrates neglected tasks that should be theirs—cleaning drains, transporting corpses, guarding public graves, street patrols, and many more. Thus, the Beggar Gang took on those duties and grew more powerful in doing so, becoming a gray force between legitimate associations and secret societies. Eventually, they monopolized certain trades and rose as local powers.

In the New World, where the Holy Court’s officials failed to govern, an illegal group known as the Black Hand Gang filled the gap. They claimed to uphold justice for the people, and their leaders became quasi-religious figures.

To drive the point home, Zhang Yuelu gave another example, citing someone’s land being seized by another, yet when the original owner reported it to the local magistrate, the officials brushed him off and did nothing. Then, his clan stepped in and led an armed skirmish to reclaim the land. In this situation, the man had clearly put more faith in the clan than the state.

When the people recognized the clan but not the government, the government’s power became hollow, and the clan would seize that authority.

Over time, clans grew stronger, and the local gentry and nobles began to control grassroots power. Thus, imperial authority never truly reached the countryside.

In such cases, was this portion of power seized by the gentry or willingly abandoned by the government?

That was why power vacuums did not exist. When one authority withdrew, another inevitably filled the void.

By the same logic, the places in which secret societies thrived follow the same principle.

Problems that seemed impossible to solve, such as secret societies and the dominance of clan ruling, actually had a simple remedy. The government needed to set up a functioning system and govern with fairness so as not to relinquish its authority. With effective governance, secret societies and clans would lose their place in society.

This led to another problem. Zhang Yuelu pointed out that many officials in the Daoist Mansion wanted power, yet shirked responsibility when crises arose. In her opinion, power and responsibility went hand in hand. Those in power had to bear the responsibility, since there was no such thing as wielding authority without accountability. Otherwise, the foundation of the Daoist Order would suffer.

Only then did Zhang Yuelu bring up Lin Yin’s case, because this case revealed one fundamental issue—inaction.

The superiors brushed things off, and the subordinates went through the motions. One was perfunctory, while the other was evasive. They only made appearances but never solved the problem. Worse still, collusion and corruption ran rampant beneath the surface. As such, small issues grew into irreversible disasters. Was this how things were supposed to be?

Zhang Yuelu then turned to popular novels that told stories of heroic swordsmen—some took vengeance freely, while others championed justice, defended the weak, and robbed the rich to help the poor. There must be a reason these heroes captivated the common people and why the masses placed their hopes in these swordsmen.

After the Lin Yin case, so many people stood on his side, which should warrant deep reflection by the Daoist officials.

Though the tragedy had already happened and those who died could not return, they should prevent such incidents from occurring again. The lives lost in this case should stir some awakening, and the officials should not remain numb to it.

Zhang Yuelu asked question after question, yet none of the Deputy Mansion Masters answered. It was not because they did not know the answers, but because they could not possibly confess to a dereliction of duty.

However, Zhang Yuelu had no intention of stopping at Lin Yin’s case. Focusing solely on it would be merely curing the symptoms, not the cause. If so, the same kind of tragedy would only happen again.

Instead, she would use this case as a catalyst to launch a full-scale purge of the Daoist Mansion’s culture of complacency and neglect.

After taking office, both Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu laid out their own guiding principles as the focal points of their governance.

Qi Xuansu, compelled by circumstance, focused his attention on secret societies, which included their operations, underlying causes, and the environment that allowed them to exist.

Zhang Yuelu, operating in a less urgent and more stable environment, was able to take things a step further. Building upon Qi Xuansu’s groundwork, she proposed a broader mission to reform the Daoist Mansion’s work ethics and restore moral order.

Neither of their approaches was better than the other, as each was dictated by circumstance.

Qi Xuansu could not afford to speak of lofty ideals as he was faced with immediate danger. His task was to be pragmatic and shatter the Wang family’s entrenched power in Poluo, even if that meant compromising on certain things. Then, he could establish a new equilibrium of opposing forces.

On the other hand, Zhang Yuelu enjoyed greater freedom. Her situation was far less urgent, allowing her to operate from a higher vantage point and to discuss more ideals.

Since Lingnan bordered Wuzhou, which was firmly under the Zhang family’s influence, Zhang Yuelu’s arrival had already upended the local power balance, creating a new equilibrium. With the Heavenly Preceptor’s backing, she had no enemies in Lingnan. Thus, she could speak boldly without restraint.

After the council meeting, some whispered privately about Zhang Yuelu’s domineering attitude. Though she was only a Second Deputy, she was already speaking and acting like a Chief Deputy, so their upcoming days under her rule were going to be difficult.

Others said that her rule as Second Deputy would last three years at most, so they could endure it. But if she ever became the Grand Master, they would be reliving the days of the fifth-generation Grand Master. The easy days would be gone for good.

Some muttered that if they could choose the eighth-generation Grand Master, they would vote for any one of the Four Prodigies, so long as it was not Zhang Yuelu.

However, that opinion met opposition, saying the Zhengyi Sect would never agree to having anyone other than Zhang Yuelu become the eighth-generation Grand Master. After all, to win the seat, the candidate must at least gain the vote of two Daoist Sects.

At that moment, another name surfaced—Qi Xuansu, a Quanzhen Sect disciple who could also balance the interests of the Zhengyi Sect as well.

He was not as strict or radical as Zhang Yuelu, so replacing her with Qi Xuansu would preserve some level of comfort while also accommodating the Zhengyi Sect’s interests.

From that perspective, Qi Xuansu was far more valuable than Yao Pei, who could only represent the Quanzhen Sect, and far preferable to Zhang Yuelu, who would never allow anyone an easy life. As for the Junior Imperial Preceptor, his dream of establishing a hereditary Li family rule was utterly intolerable.

To most people, it hardly mattered who became Grand Master. In fact, Qi Xuansu would be an ideal candidate since he had no background, making him easier to control. In contrast, the deeply entrenched and overly powerful Zhang and Li families were not great choices.

This revealed a distinct mindset within the Daoist Order.

How would one strike a balance between personal gain and the greater interests of the Daoist Order?

Personal interests often come at the expense of the Daoist Order’s well-being. Yet without the Daoist Order, those personal interests would have no foundation to stand on.

For years, the Three Deputy Grand Masters had wrestled with this same dilemma, which was why their reputations were so complex. They had made decisions that both protected and harmed the Daoist Order, so neither was deemed purely “good” nor “evil.” They embodied the Daoist Order’s yin-yang symbol perfectly.

But now that the Three Deputy Grand Masters’ time was running out and the delicate balance they had long maintained could no longer hold, would they choose to safeguard the Daoist Order’s legacy, putting its interests above all else? Or would they protect their own clans? One way or another, a choice had to be made soon.

At present, it seemed that the Three Deputy Grand Masters still leaned toward prioritizing the Daoist Order’s interests. In their later years, they had each begun addressing longstanding problems and initiating reforms, such as the Fenglin Campaign, the Poluo issue, and the question of moral decay within the Daoist Order. Zhang Yuelu’s repeated promotion was clear evidence of this.

However, that did not mean these were their final choices. Until the very end, the truth of their intentions would remain concealed.

Looking at the contenders for the seventh-generation Grand Master, Sage Cihang’s chances were slim, and the Zhang family lacked anyone capable of carrying the mantle. The Heavenly Preceptor had clearly given up on the seventh generation, so it made sense for him to shift focus toward the Daoist Order’s collective interests. Since personal victory was beyond reach, he might as well seek moral prestige instead. Thus, he stood upon the moral high ground and promoted Zhang Yuelu, the advocate of reform.

By contrast, both the Quanzhen and Taiping sects still had real prospects of winning the seat of seventh-generation Grand Master. As such, they were more likely to prioritize personal or factional gain because the influence wielded by a Grand Master was simply too immense to ignore.

After the council ended, Zhang Yuelu assigned Xu Kou, a former member of the Green Phoenix Guard, to take charge of the case. Her decision not to confine herself solely to Lin Yin’s case did not mean she would neglect it. It still had to be investigated thoroughly.

Just then, the license at her waist began to glow. Only one person could contact Zhang Yuelu through that license—Qi Xuansu.