“That’s not so different from foreign states,” He Lingchuan said. He was genuinely curious about how Beijia was structured. “Lingxu City actually tolerates localized fighting inside a monster state?”0

In his understanding, what state would not be scrambling to stamp out unrest the moment it appeared?0

“I grew up in a relatively lush wilderness. Over there, the forests and grasslands get hit by wildfires every few years. The flames sweep across mountains and plains alike, leaving misery and death in their wake. After the fire, you can barely find a living creature,” Fushan Yue said with a faint smile. He paused, as if inviting He Lingchuan to picture it. “But in less than half a year, everything’s green again. There’s new grass, new trees, and life surges back as if nothing happened. The rot and old stagnation are wiped clean in one go.” His tone remained mild, even pleasant, yet his implication was sharp. “Such is the way of Heaven. Shouldn’t human affairs also cycle and renew the same way? Beijia has stood for a long, long time. This way of thinking has already sunk deep into people’s bones.”0

He Lingchuan did not respond.0

Fushan Yue’s argument sounded beautiful, sure—poetic, even. But letting rebellion burn unchecked? What state dared play that kind of game? More often than not, you would end up playing yourself right into collapse.1

The world never...0