Chapter 00260: The Peacemaker and the Paranoid
# The Peacemaker and the Paranoid
Chapter 260
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 260: The Peacemaker and the Paranoid
Under the same night sky, amid the sound of the tides, a craftsman draped in a long robe knocked on the door of another workshop.
“Ah, what a beautiful moonlight.”
Jiang Tongguang smiled broadly, looking at the man with the heavy beard whose face was as stern as still water. “Councilor Gustav, sorry to disturb you.”
Gustav’s face remained as cold as ever, not even sparing a smile. “Councilor Jiang, such a late-night visit—what brings you here?”
Jiang Tongguang raised his hand, shaking the bottle he held. “I just bottled my homemade whiskey. It’s only aged for five years, but the taste is quite decent. Want to have a drink together?”
“……”
The two men stared silently at each other for a long moment before Gustav suddenly sighed without a word and stepped aside. “Please, come in.”
The workshop’s living room was still a mess—manuscripts and materials tossed about carelessly, barely a spot to set foot.
As fellow craftsmen, they were accustomed to it.
Jiang Tongguang didn’t bother sorting which manuscripts were important and which weren’t.
He simply plopped down on Gustav’s desk.
After all, among all these notes, only that stack of official documents was truly trivial.
With a casual wave of his hand, the nature of the air shifted and gathered, condensing into two wide-mouthed glasses that landed into Jiang Tongguang’s palm.
The glasses clinked softly as they touched.
“Want ice?”
Jiang poured the clear amber liquor into the glass, swirling it gently.
The enticing sweet aroma rose from the whiskey, intoxicating and alluring.
“I’m not good with alcohol. Better not.”
Gustav lifted his usual mug filled with plain water, unchanged over the years.
“Then both drinks are mine.” Jiang laughed, downing his first glass and teasing, “Being too tense isn’t good. You have to loosen up sometimes.”
“I recall we already discussed personality traits last month and reached no conclusion,” Gustav said bluntly. “If you have something to say, just be straightforward. No need to waste time.”
“I get it, I get it, efficiency first.”
Jiang set the glass down, crossing his legs atop Gustav’s desk.
He spoke seriously: “Good news: according to the council’s rotation system among its eight members, you’ll be hosting, monitoring, and evaluating the upcoming Craftsman Exam once again.”
“And the bad news?” Gustav asked.
“The bad news is everyone’s worried you have too much on your plate and can’t manage it all. So they sent me to assist you,” Jiang shrugged. “Of course, someone as lazy as me won’t be too enthusiastic—just a figurehead. If you have some earth-shattering master plan, please give me a heads-up so I can stay out of the way and not mess things up.”
By the rules of the association, the Craftsman Exam occurs every three years and is usually presided over in rotation by the eight council members.
It’s just one of the powers attached to being a council member.
Even if someone took the opportunity to promote their close allies or old friends, as long as it wasn’t too blatant and could be explained reasonably, most members would just let it slide.
If any other councilor suddenly jumped into the exam’s affairs, the presiding member might well fly into a rage.
But Jiang Tongguang was the exception.
Amidst the bitter struggles within the association, Jiang was a total anomaly—far stranger than an extremist like Gustav.
Up to now, he had only himself working in his workshop, no students, no friends.
He didn’t vie for power, didn’t chase profits, didn’t cultivate factions or meddle in conflicts.
He was kind to others, never put on airs, and even tolerated occasional rude behavior with generosity, doling out only light punishments as warnings.
Within the council, he was the professional peacemaker, smoothing over conflicts and balancing factions.
His most common sayings were “Whatever,” “It’s all fine,” or “You all decide.”
Now, upon hearing this, Gustav immediately understood and sneered coldly: “So they specifically sent you as the ‘good cop’? How little does Delong trust me?”
“Just afraid you’ll swing your slaughter knife again, right?”
Jiang sighed, shaking his head, raising the glass once more. “The last time you hosted the exam, the council suffered plenty … several engineering projects from both the Federation and the Empire nearly got shut down. The last council chairman was already bald then—his hair nearly all gone from stress. Delong is close to retirement and doesn’t want to tarnish his legacy.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be so ‘unfeeling’ this time.”
Gustav’s tone was mocking. “As long as their successors and old friends don’t embarrass themselves too badly, I won’t make things awkward for everyone.”
“Not my problem. Don’t drag me into it, old friend.”
Jiang poured himself another glass. “Just so long as you don’t take the candidates on a bus to some deserted island, hand them guns, and tell them only one can survive to become a craftsman… I couldn’t care less.”
“If that really happened, maybe we’d finally weed out some true gems and talented folks.”
Gustav snorted coldly: “Don’t worry, Jiang. I’m no social Darwinist, nor some berserk killer who enjoys hunting people. I just want the exam to return to its original form. The exam is an exam—not a playground for council members’ power games. Look at the ‘outstanding apprentices’ applying—they overflow with talent. My workshop can barely hold them all!”
He gestured, throwing a stack of application forms onto the table.
Some of the oddballs among them astounded even Jiang.
Candidates well past the age limit claiming, “I’m eighteen this year,” an ‘old thing’; dark-skinned transgender candidates whose nicknames from the Empire were so long they didn’t even fit in the gender column; from the Federation, young prodigies whose publications started at age seven, churning out dozens of papers each year …
And more—countless apprentices recommended by various workshops, each somehow related to a master or craftsman, each bearing thick letters of recommendation overflowing with praise, claiming future mastery, imminent grandmastery, leading the revolution in modern alchemy, creating the future—all as if failing their exams would mean the councilor in charge had no eye for talent.
But in reality?
How many of these were true talents? How many were pretenders and duds?
Jiang clicked his tongue with a tinge of regret.
In previous rounds under him, he always found excuses to pass the task to the next councilor, never encountering such an intense situation.
Though, in truth, he had expected this…
“What do you plan to do?”
“Do what needs to be done.”
Gustav waved indifferently and tossed the forms and recommendation letters into the pile of old papers. “There are too many rote-memorizing parrots. They recite everything perfectly, speak grandly, and lecture without equal, but when it comes to hands-on skills, they’re useless. There are too many critics already; the association doesn’t need more mouths that only chatter.”
He said, “I want to restart the Tower of Ten Thousand Transformations!”
“Hiss—”
Jiang sucked in a cold breath, then poured himself another glass to calm his nerves. “Almost a thousand applicants this year—that kind of attrition… I bet if Delong knew, he’d rather you take them all on a bus to a deserted island for some game!”
“Being council chairman is never easy—headaches or stomachaches, he has to pick one. Nothing’s ever free.”
Gustav sneered, “Even pure gold needs fire to refine it. If you don’t squeeze out the water, who knows how many sponges are hidden beneath all the glitter?”
“True enough,”
Jiang agreed, gulping down his whiskey, nearing the bottom of the bottle.
As his assistant sent by the council, he should’ve tried to persuade Gustav not to be so extreme, to loosen the purse strings and negotiate reasonably.
But suddenly, he didn’t want to waste the breath.
After all, persuasion wouldn’t help.
Besides, the budget wasn’t as important as the fun.
Drink, drink.
He lifted his glass and stood to take his leave, bidding farewell.
Stepping under the moonlight, he hummed a tune.
Not far away, below steep cliffs, the ocean surged and the tide sounds never ceased.
Under the cluster of stars, between the Empire and the Federation across the endless sea, here lay the association’s headquarters of the Taiyi Ring, the most transcendent existence among the thousand islands—an earthly wonder built and established by the craftsmen.
Emerald of the sea, pearl of the furnace.
—Island of Tian Shu.
Amid the roaring waves and dark night, all life was silent, and the nearby area where the association was located slept in peaceful slumber.
Still, the years passed quietly and well.
Jiang Tongguang whistled softly, full of anticipation.
It was clear…
Things were about to get lively very soon!
(End of chapter)