Chapter 854: Thin soil yields no great things; shallow water holds no great fish

This saturation!

This vivid color!

Unlike Long Long Eying's sharp hues, the young man before him radiated colors so intense they spilled over!

Apricot-yellow face, azure robes, cyan-green hair… chaotic colors exploded like a northern aurora, flooding his eyes, twisting the ambient light.

A master!

A Heavenly Dragon Wu Sheng?

It shouldn't be possible…

Three years ago, he ascended to the capital, reaching the thirtieth floor of Wangyue Tower; this young man sat cross-legged in dual cultivation with another beautiful woman—if their realms were equal, wouldn't that mean two Martial Saints guarded Wangyue?

A Celestial Master with perfected Entering Zhen Xiang?

Liang Qu thought of his own Immortal Island Dragon Court.

A single Dragon Court was already this powerful; three Dragon Courts were unthinkable—how many times stronger? But even so, would one truly emit "auroras" all over?

Was it Jiezhuwangyuelou?

Environmental specialization?

The "young man" raised his eyebrows; Liang Qu extinguished his Golden Eyes and bowed slightly: "Elder!"

"How do you feel?"

"Completely different—like standing in a fairy realm!"

The young man smirked, said little, and stepped aside to open the room: "Come, pack up. The Emperor awaits you on the thirty-third floor."

"Yes!"

Liang Qu dried his brush, closed the desk ledger, shoved it into his robe, and walked out of the cultivation chamber with the "young man."

Outside Wangyue Tower, the Dragon and Tiger phenomena slowly faded; the carriages, horses, and boats, long held in stasis, resumed movement; the common folk seized their new topic of gossip and slipped into teahouses to boast and chatter.

The scattered clouds reformed, and light rain pattered down.

When immortals arrive, wind accompanies them; rain lines their path.

The tall tower fell silent.

Tap-tap-tap~

Shoe soles struck wooden planks, producing a dense clatter.

As the two stepped out, the royal youths and hunting-tiger soldiers who had gathered at the door instinctively retreated, pressing tightly against the walls, as if an invisible transparent circle surrounded them.

They crossed the threshold.

Suddenly, someone to the left stretched his neck and burst out in the silence:

"He Xi, Marquis Baron Xingyi! Hail Marquis Baron Xingyi! Glorious Great Shun!"

Liang Qu halted.

He looked toward the speaker.

His skin was rough, like sun-dried black wheat; he was over forty, surely a battle-hardened veteran who had earned great merit and come here to cultivate.

He didn't recognize him at all.

He nodded politely.

"He Xi, Marquis Baron Xingyi! Hail Marquis Baron Xingyi! Glorious Great Shun!"

As one finished, another opened his mouth—his expression tense, hurried, having no words of his own, he simply repeated the same phrase.

He nodded in return.

Then—

Pah~ pah~ pah~

Like dominoes falling.

The third, the fourth… the rest, as if inspired, as if signaled, began loudly offering their congratulations.

"He Xi, Marquis Baron Xingyi…"

"Marquis Baron Xingyi, peerless in might!"

"Strengthen Great Shun's glory! Spread Great Shun's name! Break new ground for Great Shun!"

"Marquis Baron Xingyi…"

"Marquis Baron Xingyi!"

"Marquis Baron Xingyi!"

The Jia, Yi, and Bing cultivation chambers, the twenty-fourth floor, the twenty-third floor… multiple levels of cultivation towers.

Every cultivator leaned over the railings, gazing upward.

Every clerk and registrar dropped their tasks, standing straight to watch.

From Jia-3 cultivation chamber to the central staircase on the twenty-fifth floor, from the inner corridor to the outer edge—within mere dozens of meters, crowds lined the path, and everywhere his eyes reached, heads bowed in tribute.

Sunlight, diffused by thin clouds, slanted across their shoulders.

Countless eyes gathered before and behind him; countless voices overlapped from left to right.

Liang Qu nodded to each one.

His heart quickened slightly.

A vague, indescribable warmth spread through his veins, flowing to every limb and bone—like falling weightlessly from some distant height, a chill rising in his abdomen, deepening his breath, making his steps lighter.

Riding this rising, clear wind, he ascended to the twenty-sixth floor.

The cries of congratulations grew sparse, faint, and distant.

His steps grew heavier.

"Huh~"

"Didn't you see this during Hunting Tiger?" the young man asked, hands behind his back.

"I never witnessed anything so grand," Liang Qu shook his head.

Smoke from the Hunting Tiger campaign had stirred great crowds at the pond, even more people had gathered close, but nothing compared to today's spectacle, today's surge!

The young man pointed down at the sea of heads below.

"Seventy years since Great Shun's founding, the sons of nobles beneath this tower—most of their household stewards are retired generals and veterans, all of whom have reached Hunting Tiger. You've entered Hunting Tiger, and you're merely one among the 'few.' Only in Great Shun is this worthy of grand celebration, hailed as an omen, a sign of martial flourishing. In some tiny state, it would only alarm their ruler."

"Thin soil yields no great things; shallow water holds no great fish."

"Exactly. Now that you've entered Entering Zhen Xiang, you add the word 'strong.' A strong one—whether young or old—commands respect, far more than 'few' ever could, far more genuine!"

"Before you entered Entering Zhen Xiang, you were still among your peers. Now that you have, you stand on par with their parents, elders, superiors, and commanders—thus, the sincerity and reverence in their hearts far surpasses what they felt for your Hunting Tiger achievement."

"Thank you, Elder, for clarifying this."

Liang Qu bowed deeply.

The young man said nothing more, walked ahead with hands behind his back, silently leading him up the stairs.

They reached the thirtieth floor.

"No one checks credentials above the thirtieth floor. Ascend on your own."

The young man lifted his robe hem, sat cross-legged to cultivate.

The ice platform exuded chilling cold.

Liang Qu glanced at the mat beside the young man—no sign of the woman who had once sat with him in dual cultivation.

"Don't look. Last month they quarreled and returned to her parents' home. Now we take turns on duty—we don't see each other."

"… "

"What's so strange?" The young man, as if reading his thoughts, spoke calmly. "No couple in the world avoids arguments. Even those in high positions, free from worries over rice, firewood, laundry, or cooking—once you have children, relatives, you can't escape it."

Such a master—strangely down-to-earth.

Liang Qu flushed, bowed respectfully, and stepped up the stairs, leaving behind the awkward spot.

He reached the top floor.

Screens lined the walls, flowers clustered in profusion, a long zither played a serene melody.

At the far end, the Emperor stood with his back to Liang Qu, gazing over the bustling imperial capital.

His blue sash fluttered; his long robe woven with brocade.

"Marquis Baron Xingyi, please!"

The eunuch waited at the staircase, flicked his fly whisk, and guided Liang Qu to the platform.

The incense scent was faint.

"Your Majesty! I have not disgraced your trust!"

Liang Qu knelt on one knee.

At twenty-two years and two months—he had done it, without doubt!

He shattered Great Shun's record, shattered Great Great Qian's record!

"Stand up. Kneeling like that looks bad in the painting."

"What?"

Liang Qu looked around.

Then he saw several court painters nodding at him, pointing to a nearby inkstone and a row of brushes of varying sizes.

He understood at once, rose, stepped half a pace back, and stood beside the Emperor, gazing out.

The court painters bit their wolf-hair brushes, wielded large brushes, splashed ink, capturing the harmonious scene of sovereign and minister upon canvas.

Water droplets condensed into white pearls.

A long wind stirred the hem of his robe.

"Lord Liang first secured the Dragon People, then the Jiao People, and subsequently brought in sea merchants to challenge a sea demon king and manage aquatic affairs—truly adept at it."

"The essence of governance lies in securing the right people; if one employs those unfit for their roles, order cannot be achieved. I was personally promoted by Your Majesty—my achievements are Your Majesty's prowess!"

"Assigning minor talents to major tasks is like a cat fighting a tiger or a knife chopping wood; suppressing great talent for trivial use is like a steed catching mice or an axe trimming hair. Lord Liang, take a look at this."

The Holy Emperor handed over a bound volume.

Liang Qu unfolded its hard cover.

Tiny script filled the pages densely; key points were marked in larger characters—he skimmed several pages.

It concerned the matter of Magistrate Jian Magistrate Jian Zhongyi.

Since the year before last, Magistrate Jian Tianyuan's remains have vanished; Magistrate Jian Magistrate Jian Zhongyi was dispatched early to the upper reaches of the Huaijiang to eliminate the "nails" left behind by the Great Snow Mountains.

But one word firmly caught Liang Qu's gaze.

"Minor Position Fruit?"

(End of Chapter)