Chapter 337: Qianyuan Qianyuan, the Son of Heaven Observes the Qi! (Combined)

Beyond the Divine Continent, the city walls loomed faintly.

On an island suspended in the heart of the river.

Yuwen Liqian watched Yang Wenxian's retreating figure and silently pondered.

This man is truly a rare talent—one who can match a hundred thousand troops.

Too bad he cannot serve Han; the most precious thing in this world is talent.

He swore an oath: never to offer Han a single strategy or plan in his lifetime.

Du Hui stood to one side and sighed softly: "A gentleman may be deceived by righteousness."

Yet Yuwen Liqian felt a strange sense of anticipation—she wanted to hear the answer Yang Wenxian was about to reveal.

Will the fires between Han and Yan ignite? What will be the final outcome?

She firmly believed Han would surely prevail.

Since thirteen years ago, Han secretly reorganized the Han Wu Zu; now Zhou Ye has been reinstated as Grand General.

The Han Wu Zu once swept the world four hundred years ago!

This army was even more terrifying than the Northern Wind Iron Formation, having once annihilated dozens of states and earned legendary renown.

Zhou Ye himself is hailed as "a general born once every three hundred years"—his military strategy and tactics far surpass his contemporaries; after death, he will surely be enshrined in the Martial Temple, revered for ten thousand generations.

He authored twelve scrolls of military treatises, each word a pearl, especially his doctrine: "Attack the heart first, the city second."

He also secured the pacification of the Western Regions Protectorate, doubling Han's territory, advancing both agriculture and warfare, and uniting the Western states—his achievements are grand enough to be recorded in history.

Yet his talent is unmatched, but his personal virtue is flawed.

In his youth, Zhou Ye sold his wife to gain office, abused private justice, was greedy and lustful, and seized his younger brother's wife—despicable to all.

The Han princess married him, a tale once praised, yet he disregarded moral order, took countless concubines, and forced the princess to serve other men.

Even more horrifying:

The Han Court discovered dozens of corpses of courtesans buried in the backyard of his mansion—when this came to light, the court and populace were stunned, and Zhou Ye was finally imprisoned in the Zhao Prison awaiting trial.

Yet His Majesty, moved by his military genius, could not bring himself to execute him, so he stripped him of rank and exiled him to the frontier garrison.

Unexpectedly, this man achieved extraordinary feats on the frontier; four years ago, His Majesty, unable to part with his talent, recalled him to court and restored his command of the Han Wu Zu.

When Zhou Ye is mentioned:

Yuwen Liqian felt not the slightest fondness; though they had only exchanged a single glance down the corridor, she keenly sensed the unmasked ambition in his eyes.

As if all things under heaven were his to claim—including herself—with a beast's possessive hunger.

Among the Han people, it is often said Zhou Ye has "a will to swallow heaven."

The "heaven" here, of course, refers directly to the throne of the Han monarch.

His Majesty heard this and smiled without speaking, saying only:

"When the ruler is strong, the ministers are strong; when the people are rich, the state is strong, and the world prospers. When the ruler is strong but the ministers weak, it is tyranny—and the family and state decline. When the ruler is weak but the ministers strong, the world descends into chaos and the people suffer."

"The frontier needs tigers. I am not Han Youjun, and Zhou Ye is not the old Gao Ling."

Han Youjun was a disgrace in Han's history.

Universally regarded as the most incompetent ruler since Han's founding.

During his reign, he wished to build a warm chamber for the empress in winter—and had to beg humbly to Chancellor Gao Ling for permission.

Yet Gao Ling not only refused, but cited: "The Son of Heaven must share hardship with the people, and be the world's example."

The irony? Gao Ling himself lived in extreme luxury—his mansion glittered with gold, his servants numbered over a thousand.

Just as her thoughts swirled:

A crisp jingle of horse bells shattered the silence.

Yuwen Liqian and Du Hui turned toward the sound.

A caravan was slowly approaching, two prominent banners fluttering atop its carts.

Crimson banner with the Three Celestial Symbols!

Black banner with the Big Dipper!

Clearly, the national flags of Qianyuan and Daqing.

The carriages halted near the pavilion by the bridge, and all eyes turned toward them.

Han and Da Chu always show timidity—their memories of Qianyuan's invasion still haunt them.

Yuwen Liqian's gaze shifted slightly—she had not anticipated:

Da Chu, Qianyuan, Daqing, and Han—all four nations have gathered again.

But Daqing has now been replaced by Yan.

The Qianyuan delegation is led by the famed Prince himself.

The Daqing delegation is headed by Xie Chunan, whose mind is meticulous, step by step—this visit must have a hidden agenda.

Aside from the Northern Wind, all four delegations have arrived.

But has the Yan King descended from Mount Zhongnan?

And where is he now?

After Lu Chen ascended the throne, everything changed.

The other three nations harbor resentment toward Yan's rise, yet they are powerless. In their eyes, Yan has long since broken free from Daqing's territory—it only lacked formal proclamation.

Now, the Yan King has sacrificed to heaven and declared himself emperor—his rule over the northern lands, secured by the Lu army's iron hooves for over twenty years, is unshakable.

Beneath the emerald pavilion by the bridge:

Two carriages slowed to a stop, arriving together.

"Whoa—"

The lead carriage flew the crimson banner with the Three Celestial Symbols—the solemn emblem of the Qianyuan Empire; its blue sun symbolized the imperial Wu clan's radiant dominance, illuminating all directions.

As the wheels came to rest:

A tall, broad-shouldered middle-aged man stepped out—around forty-some years old.

He wore black cloud boots, a golden belt with jade pendants, sleeves edged with four brilliant golden threads, and a black python-embroidered robe; his face was rugged, handsome, eyes deep, radiating an aura of silent authority.

The third prince of Qianyuan, the undisputed foremost pillar of the military—Wu Long.

He descended calmly, his gaze sweeping over the Da Chu and Han scholars already present, then halted.

Immediately, the second carriage door opened.

An elderly official stepped out!

He wore a crimson official robe—the unique color of Daqing's system—and a black gauze cap with ear flaps: the head of the Daqing delegation, Xie Chunan.

Behind Xie Chunan, a woman slowly descended from the carriage.

She was around thirty, breathtakingly beautiful, ethereal in bearing, her white long gown swaying gently in the wind like a moonlit immortal, untouched by dust.

Her appearance instantly drew the gaze of all scholars—a quality unlike any other woman.

Gentle yet radiant!

Even Prince Wu Long cast her several glances—Xie Chunan's only daughter.

Xie Lingxuan!

Near forty, yet still astonishingly beautiful, as if endowed with heaven's finest grace, soft as water.

In her youth, countless wealthy families of Daqing vied for her hand.

Even now, her charm surpasses her youth.

Three years ago, at the Banyue Pavilion, the Rouge List was unveiled—Xie Lingxuan topped it, earning the title "Supreme Beauty."

Each year, this list is renewed, ten names chosen—each a peerless beauty of the world.

The world produces countless beauties; truly, beautiful women abound, and each year the list changes.

Yet:

This alone proves her splendor!

Beside Xie Lingxuan walked a woman in a red palace gown—her cousin Su Yue, who once toured Mount Zhongnan with the late Daqing emperor during the New Year's blessing ceremony.

Time has passed!

Two years ago, Su Yue defied her parents' objections and married a wandering swordsman—but fate is fickle.

The next year, her husband grew faithless and was caught keeping a "fox spirit"; Su Yue was heartbroken, and they divorced.

This experience left her disillusioned with all men—she vowed never to marry again.

For this Yan sacrifice and imperial proclamation, Daqing's scholars came to tour Yan territory; Su Yue requested to join them.

To clear her mind.

With Xie Chunan's current influence, inserting one woman into the delegation was no great difficulty.

Wu Long waited patiently before his carriage, awaiting Xie Chunan and his two daughters.

As Qianyuan and Daqing scholars disembarked, several familiar faces emerged—unexpected, yet unmistakable.

The fat and thin scholars, since their parting at the Yue Tang River's Shenshen Temple, had risen to fame in Daqing's capital, passed the Metropolitan Examination, entered the Hanlin Academy, and now stood on the brink of officialdom, their futures bright.

And an old man!

The chess-playing elder from the Shenshen Temple—the grandmaster of Daqing's Go world, Zou Lin.

All of them came as representatives of Daqing.

Zou Lin looked around the Yan territory, his heart heavy with complex emotions.

For decades, Daqing had feared the Northern Wind, lost the northern lands, and only after the Lu army rose did they reclaim them.

Now there is an Yan King.

And now, he has sacrificed to heaven and declared himself emperor.

Zou Lin truly felt time flew like a white steed passing a crevice, life's turns unpredictable—but he held deep admiration for the Prince of Yan.

"Is this Wangshen Continent? The first major town south of Hulao Pass."

Wu Long gazed at the scene before him, unable to suppress a sigh.

"Your Highness, the further north we travel, the more majestic the cities become—this has been true all along."

Grand Secretary Xie Chunan arrived with his two daughters and added in agreement:

"This city ranks second only to Hulao Pass!"

Wu Long had been enfeoffed as Prince of Sui; though third in rank among princes, his actual power was immense.

At this moment!

A golden eagle circled in the sky, while at the gates of Wangshen City, several squads of cavalry captains—three men per group—moved out with disciplined precision.

Three men per squad!

Wu Long squinted and said, "It seems our party has been under the Yan Prince's watch since the start."

Xie Chunan said, "It's said the Lu Family Army has a unit called Luo Que Army, using hawks as scouts to patrol the surrounding areas."

Wu Long smiled and said, "Grand Secretary, shouldn't you call it the Yanbei Army?"

Xie Chunan stroked his beard and replied, "Say it often enough, and you grow used to it."

"What difference is there, really, between the Lu Family Army and the Yanbei Army?"

Wu Long nodded slightly, his gaze filled with admiration for the squads of three ahead:

"This three-man unit tactic is precisely the famed San San Zhi Fa of the Lu Family Army. In the Battle of Breaking the Northern Wind, it repeatedly achieved victory against greater odds—indispensable to their success."

"And the creator of this tactic was none other than the Yan Prince, who drew it from military texts and implemented it among his troops."

At this point,

Xie Lingxuan's eyes flickered slightly.

On this northward journey, the name of the Yan Prince was the one they heard most often.

They had stopped only in major cities along the way.

The customs of Yan were markedly different, yet extraordinarily prosperous.

The people held the Yan Prince, who cultivated on Mount Zhongnan, in the highest esteem.

For this sacrifice ceremony in Yanjing, crowds from Yan poured in without end.

Many major cities celebrated, fireworks and firecrackers lasting for days without pause.

Xie Chunan watched as squad after squad of cavalry circled the city, a golden eagle perched on one of their shoulders.

His gaze fell upon them—seemingly directed at their group.

He stroked his beard and spoke in a low tone:

"A chancellor must rise from the ranks of local officials; a mighty general must emerge from the ranks of soldiers."

"This Yan Prince walked out of war. Every decision he makes is rooted in battlefield reality, not empty talk. The Lu Family Army he personally forged has endured over twenty years of storms and trials—once, it already held the ambition to swallow the world."

Wu Long asked:

"Then, in your view, Grand Secretary, is this Yan Prince a foolish ruler or a sage monarch?"

"Ten years of neglecting court affairs—is that good or bad?"

Wu Long's Daqing envoy delegation met Xie Chunan's in Jiakangcheng; their first encounter carried a sense of meeting too late.

Of course, this was only surface-level—Wu Long knew Xie Chunan's current status in Daqing represented half of the nation's aristocratic power.

Qianyuan and Daqing had traded for many years, and both sides maintained a cooperative stance.

Alliances and divisions!

This was also why Wu Long, despite the visit of a Korean princess, had never shown his face.

Qianyuan and Korea would never ally.

They were already like fire and water—utterly incompatible.

Xie Chunan thought for a moment, then brought up another matter.

"Before this Yan Prince rose to prominence, when he had just come of age, I went to see him. Later, my wife and I discussed it and arranged a marriage alliance between our families."

"In my youth, I had already examined the Yan Prince's facial features."

It seemed this was the first time he mentioned it.

Even Xie Lingxuan looked surprised.

"Oh!"

Wu Long, upon hearing this, glanced at Xie Lingxuan several times more. She stood graceful and tall, her beauty beyond compare—he silently admired her.

Beauty like the moon!

Su Yue was equally astonished. She had assumed the marriage pact between the Xie and Lu families was mere chance—never imagining such a reason lay behind it!

She reflected inwardly: her uncle was truly a man of the age—not only skilled in divination.

He was also adept at "facial reading and aura observation."

His predictions were astonishingly accurate.

No one in the streets and alleys did not know his "iron-mouthed pronouncements."

Recalling the events of her own wedding, Su Yue still felt a chill.

Her former husband, terrified of her uncle's authority, dared not even enter the Xie Fu—only coming under coercion.

Her uncle had merely murmured, "Faint fate, deep affection—peach blossoms from outside," and it came true.

This ability made Su Yue both revere and fear him.

At first, she had refused to believe such a kind, gentle "husband" could be so cruel.

You may know a man's face, but never his heart!

The outcome was tragic!

So back then, when the Yan Prince came of age, her uncle must have seen something.

She grew curious, leaning in to listen.

Wu Long teased:

"Grand Secretary, stop teasing—tell us, did the Yan Prince truly possess the aura of an emperor back then?"

Folk tales passed mouth to mouth, and historical records often noted that extraordinary men bore extraordinary physiognomies.

For example, Wu Sang, the founding emperor of Qianyuan, dreamed as his mother carried him that a great sun fell into her belly; as a youth, he grew three breasts.

Some said four breasts signaled the mark of a sage king—yet even three were enough to mark his uniqueness.

Xie Chunan smiled and said:

"Back then, I saw no imperial aura."

Xie Lingxuan frowned slightly—her father had mentioned this for a reason.

Xie Chunan spoke calmly:

"To be honest, I was troubled then by having many children but none to inherit my legacy. That's why I considered seeking a worthy son-in-law from outside to carry on my line."

"When I first saw the young Yan Prince, his features were excellent—he was mature beyond his years, possessed the Five Virtues, could maintain family order, and was already renowned in his county and prefecture. If he entered officialdom, he would surely become a great statesman."

Upon hearing this, Xie Lingxuan felt her spirit stir!

"But at the time, the Yan Prince had just come of age—his features were still young, his eyes and brows not fully formed."

"The next year, when the brothers left home for Mount Zhongnan to cultivate, I went to visit them again."

Xie Lingxuan lifted her head slightly.

Su Yue waited with great anticipation.

Wu Long stood with his hands behind his back, silently awaiting Xie Chunan's next words, noticing a small island in the river where people walked, pavilions and towers rising in a striking scene.

"Grand Secretary, what did you see this time?"

Xie Chunan gently adjusted his black official cap, his tone carrying an indescribable weight:

"That time, I saw nothing at all."

An unexpected answer!

Xie Chunan suddenly recalled that day, in the Lu family courtyard, his mother reluctantly seeing off the departing sons.

From within his sedan, he drew back the curtain and gazed at the two brothers.

The younger boy, walking behind, noticed the gaze from the sedan and turned back with a faint glance.

And then!

The boy's eyes were bright!

For the next ten years, Xie Chunan's famed aura-reading ability vanished—only slowly returning after he entered the Daqing capital.

The emperor's aura-reading!

But one dare not gaze upon celestial immortals.

(End of Chapter)