Chapter 900

Sui Du, the imperial city.

Inside the not-too-large study, Feng Xian sat cross-legged behind the desk, looking at the pile of various documents in front of him, and let out a weary sigh.

Even though he had entered the Dao through the 660 Grand Daos, and even though his cultivation was at the peak of the Divine Manifestation realm, allowing him to go without sleep or rest, without food or drink, making him an inhuman existence, faced with these myriad affairs of the state, Feng Xian felt weariness from the bottom of his heart.

He could sit silently in a flower grove for a whole month without moving, quietly listening to the sounds of blossoms opening and petals falling.

He could also sit cross-legged on a snowy plain for half a year without moving, smiling as he listened to the sounds of snowflakes falling and ice crystals forming.

He could even disguise himself as a commoner, walking along the bluestone-paved lanes from one city to another, enjoying the scenery, teasing cats and dogs, occasionally biting into a candied haw skewer, and that would lift his spirits for more than half a year.

He was a prince who delighted in entrusting his emotions to heaven and earth and nature, and he never imagined that one day he would become the divine emperor of the great Sui dynasty.

He disliked these state affairs.

Because he disliked them, handling them was exhausting.

His body was not tired, but his soul was.

He now very much wanted to escape this study that felt like a prison, take off his ceremonial robes, jump into the moat outside Sui Du, and watch a battle between the turtles and shrimp in the moat.

He threw the documents sent by the Ministry of War—requests for fund allocation, reorganization of the Imperial Guard and the various garrisons—onto the desk, and Feng Xian, a little annoyed, rubbed his temples with his fingers: 'Tell Senior Grand Tutor Xiahou that I don't care about whatever bet he has with King Wu, Wu Tie…'

'In short, I won't let him resign; he must honestly continue to serve me.'

'Hmm, grant Senior Grand Tutor Xiahou's newborn grandson three commanderies as a fief… pick a good place, and meanwhile draft a hereditary first-rank countship to go with it, and bestow it all at once.'

'Even if I have to drag him back by force, I must bring Senior Grand Tutor Xiahou back from his fief… All these military affairs of the court give me a terrible headache.'

'Also, have the Grand Tutor and Grand Protector think of a way to contact King Wu… The situation of Sui has already stabilized; Sui Prefecture has been ceded to Wuguo, so my father should be released, right?'

'Ask King Wu what the conditions are to ransom my father… Hurry and bring my father back; I will abdicate and let him handle this. This great Sui dynasty—I truly am not mentally prepared for it!'

Feng Xian spoke irresponsibly, saying things that, if leaked, would be enough to shake the entire court.

He casually grabbed a document about insect plagues in several southeastern prefectures, with the various prefectures requesting relief, and slammed it onto the desk: 'These matters, these matters… sigh, what's a bug plague? With the strength of each prefecture's governor, how much effort would it take to kill these bugs?'

'Everything has to be reported, everything has to be reported, everything has to be reported… This too must be reported, that too must be reported—these regional officials, can't they send up fewer documents? Can't they do anything without waiting for me to speak first?'

A eunuch with fair, well-maintained skin and a smiling face approached, holding a bowl of clear soup with gentle hands.

'Your Majesty, please calm your anger; officials from all regions submitting reports on every matter is itself a prudent and steady practice, no wonder they do so… Ah, it's late; Your Majesty, have a bowl of snow ginseng ten-rong soup to replenish your spirit.'

The eunuch carefully placed the clear soup on the desk.

Feng Xian let out a sigh, shook his head, and said, 'Replenish my spirit? Replenish what? My essence, energy, and spirit are full; I just… don't want to see these things.'

He lifted the bowl and drank the clear soup in one gulp.

He set the bowl down, Feng Xian stretched out a hand with a look of utter hopelessness: 'Bring the most urgent memorials over; I'll deal with these, then go rest… the rest, send back, and let the Grand Tutor and Grand Protector handle them as they see fit.'

Feng Xian looked solemnly at the eunuch before him: 'They are veteran officials of several dynasties; I trust and rely on them.'

The eunuch opened his mouth, gave a dry laugh, gently took the soup bowl and carried it outside, letting the little eunuchs leave with the empty bowl. Then he returned to the desk, picked up a few documents whose covers bore a blood-red mark indicating ten-thousand-urgency, carefully unfolded them, and placed them before Feng Xian.

Feng Xian looked at the dozen or so documents before him, all marked with the ten-thousand-urgency seal, let out a heavy sigh, picked up a vermilion brush, and began to read and ponder them carefully, bit by bit.

While issuing edicts on the documents, Feng Xian muttered complaints: 'I… am truly not cut out for this… I… really haven't prepared well… I…'

As he spoke, Feng Xian's complexion turned a pale green.

The once lip-red, teeth-white, blood-abundant Feng Xian now resembled a debauchee who had caroused in a brothel for ten days and ten nights: his complexion grew pallid and wan, his flesh turned semi‑transparent, faintly revealing the bones and meridians beneath.

He continued to grumble on and on, but the breath he exhaled had already condensed into white mist.

A bone‑chilling chill seeped out from the white mist he exhaled, yet Feng Xian himself felt no cold.

But Feng Xian saw his own protruding white vapor, he stared blankly, a little dazed, and lifted his head to glance at the eunuch standing beside the desk.

'Manager Fu… look… I…'

Feng Xian wanted to rise, but his movements had obviously become stiff and weak.

He had just risen halfway when his body slumped and he fell heavily back into his seat. Eunuch Manager Fu hurried over, extended a hand to support Feng Xian's body: 'Your Majesty, you must… take care…'

As Manager Fu spoke in a soft, low voice, his hands moved like lightning, and countless extremely fine black needles—finer than cowhair—flashed with a faint cold light, which Fu swiftly stabbed into Feng Xian's back.

From the base of the skull to the coccyx, every vital point along the way—including each vertebra of the spine, the cartilage between each pair of vertebrae, and so on—was pierced through by the black needles.

Feng Xian let out a hoarse shout, his body convulsing violently as he raised both hands to strike at Fu.

Three other eunuchs, like ghosts, slipped in from outside the study, their hands trailing afterimages as they swiftly drove the black needles into the vital points on the front of Feng Xian's body.

Feng Xian's body stiffened, and the hands he had just raised dropped heavily again.

Thousands of extremely fine needles pierced Feng Xian's body; the black needles began to draw out his essence and blood, emitting faint dim glimmers, and within his body they formed a pitch‑black lotus‑shaped seal that hovered between substance and emptiness.

Feng Xian's body became completely rigid; only his eyeballs could still turn slightly, and he could no longer move any part of himself at all.

'Your Majesty, you may now rest.'

Manager Fu gazed at the utterly rigid Feng Xian and let out a soft sigh: 'Ah, the realm of Sui… but what can we servants do? We are merely a bunch of unfortunate folk; those high‑and‑mighty grandees issue orders, and we can only obey.'

The next morning, bad news spread from Sui Du, quickly reaching every corner of the Sui dynasty.

The newly enthroned divine emperor Feng Xian, who had been on the throne only a few days, suddenly fell gravely ill in the inner palace; now he is bedridden and unable to handle state affairs.

Grand Tutor Xiahou Wuming, Grand Protector Yin Bu po, and Grand Guardian Yan Zhengxing led civil and military officials to the imperial city to inquire after his health, but they were ambushed outside the city gates by terrifying assassins who struck head‑on; the Sui dynasty's Three Dukes—Grand Tutor, Grand Protector, Grand Guardian—and together with the top‑hundred ministers were slain to the tune of thirty percent, while the rest were all seriously wounded.

Xiahou Wuming, Yin Bu po, and Yan Zhengxing were the assassins' primary targets; Yin Bu po and Yan Zhengxing were killed in the chaos, their bodies and souls utterly destroyed, while only Xiahou Wuming, relying on his formidable physique and the desperate guard of his retainers such as Xiahou Wusheng, managed to escape by luck, though he too suffered grievous wounds and fell into a coma.

When the news came out, the Sui dynasty was shaken.

Suddenly, in all directions of Sui, nine princes of the Feng royal house raised their troops.

Kai Ping Wang, Cheng Ping Wang, Shun Ping Wang, De Xin Wang, Xin Xin Wang, Ren Xin Wang, Chang Ding Wang, Sheng Ding Wang, Rong Ding Wang.

These are the Three Ping, Three Xin, and Three Ding princely titles that were ennobled at the founding of the Sui dynasty; they are the highest‑ranking princely titles among the royal house.

Their strength far exceeds that of ordinary feudal lords; they are the Feng royal family's 'heart‑land princes' intended to oversee the world and intimidate the four directions. Taken just by territory, each of these nine princedoms is more than ten times the size of a ordinary fief; their troop numbers, equipment levels, and so on vastly surpass those of ordinary feudal lords, rivalling the Sui's Imperial Guard.

The nine kings in unison raised the banner of 'Rectify the Court's Order', their armies marched out together, and they caught the neighboring lords and prefectural chiefs of their own domains off guard; within just a few days, many of those lords and chiefs were defeated and fled, their lands and peoples falling into the hands of the nine kings.

With Feng Xian 'incapacitated by grave illness', the Three Dukes—two dead, one seriously wounded—left the court bereft of any heavyweight capable of taking charge; for a time, there was simply no one of sufficient stature to run the government.

The Imperial Guard was at a loss what to do, the various garrisons, leaderless, fought on their own, and were then each crushed by the nine kings' armies.

In Sui Wu City, Wu Tie and the Mist were still holding a secret conference in the heavily guarded great hall.

"Pangu Saint, he opened up heaven and earth like this." Wu Tie sighed lowly: "He actually has a heroic and chivalrous nature."

Mi Wu snorted coldly: "For you Pangu remnant clan, he is your creator; his actions are naturally good. But for us gods…… what does suppressing rebel believers have to do with him? Even if we just stabbed him, it would be fine, yet he also seized the Origin of Creation."

It seemed he had thought of something unbelievable, Mi Wu gritting his teeth and shaking his head repeatedly.

However, this Pangu…… is truly a tough and fierce person; single-handedly with his beast, he has slain hundreds of ancient gods with his great axe, and the number of God King and God Emperor level experts he has killed is no less than ten thousand.

As for the ordinary divine spirits, who knows how many have fallen; he alone ended the frenzied god wars of all clans.

Indeed, he has slain too many divine spirits; the clans no longer have the courage to continue fighting.

Mi Wu said slowly: "Pangu opened up heaven and earth; the Primordial Chaos erupted; the gods who pursued him were almost all wiped out; the few divine spirits that luckily survived were nearly blown to pieces by the Primordial Chaos explosion, and furthermore were scattered to the four corners by the chaotic tides."

That was an uneasy and anxious history.

The gods stopped fighting, and the war with those believers also ceased…… the lofty gods were forced to sign a peace treaty with the believers who once groveled at their feet.

What a disgrace, an humiliation that cannot be washed away.

The gods are licking their wounds and recuperating; everyone is waiting, hoping that the divine spirits who pursued Pangu will bring back good news.

Every god clan fantasizes that its own people could slay Pangu and return with the Origin of Creation.

But they have waited for many years, many years.

No one has returned; it seems the divine spirits who pursued Pangu have completely vanished, with not a single message coming back.

Thus, the anxious gods began to dispatch many scouts into the sea of stars, entering the boundless Primordial Chaos Void, seeking news of Pangu, the Origin of Creation, and those clans who pursued him.

The boundless Primordial Chaos Void saw hundreds of thousands, millions, tens of millions, hundreds of millions of divine spirits scattered out, like throwing a handful of sand into the sea— not even a ripple appeared.

They searched for many years, many years…… they simply did not know the Primordial Chaos coordinates of where Pangu opened up the world, nor did they know what exactly had happened…… the gods blindly searched for many years, receiving no news at all.

Gradually, even this god war had almost become a legend, the Origin of Creation entirely regarded by the later-generation divine spirits as a legendary item in stories…… the scouts sent out by the gods found a divine spirit who had barely survived back then, severely wounded and on the brink of death, self-sealed at the edge of a black hole, clinging to life.

When the news was transmitted back, the major god clans were shaken.

All the scouts obtained approximate spatial coordinates, and they all rushed toward the place where Pangu opened up heaven.

Mu Dalu, that's how we discovered it.

When the First Descent War broke out, the gods who arrived first launched a full-scale assault on Mu Dalu; in that battle, Mu Dalu, once a whole continent, was shattered into scattered stars across the sky.

Mi Wu slowly recounted the war history recorded in the Wisdom God Clan's secret archives, when hurried footsteps sounded from outside the hall.

Wu Tie raised his head, recognizing the owner of the footsteps, and immediately gestured to Mi Wu.

The light mist hovering before Mi Wu dissipated, and all the light-and-shadow images vanished as well.

The hall's doors flung open, and the panting Huang Lang rushed in: "Your Majesty, the Flame Dynasty's God Emperor Feng Xiao is gravely ill and unable to recover; court officials have been assassinated, casualties severe. The Flame Dynasty's Three Ping, Three Xing, Three Ding Kings have rebelled; the Nine Princes' army swept across the land in just a few days, and the Flame Dynasty has already lost three-tenths of its territory to the Nine Princes."

"Now, the situation is still worsening."

Huang Lang quickly relayed the message sent back by Wuguo's spies: "Besides the Nine Princes' army rebelling, the Northern Monster State, Eastern Demon State, and Southern Ghost State have also sent large armies into Flame Dynasty territory."

Huang Lang paused, then said in a deep voice: "In the west, within the Monster State's borders, several monster tribes are unstable; they are now approaching the borders of my Flame Prefecture."

Wu Tie stared, astonished, looking at Mi Wu: "Was it you who did this?"

Mi Wu also stared, then cried out in protest: "It wasn't me; impossible; absolutely not."