Chapter 68: Simulation Ends, Late Bloomer

The next day, the Emperor’s death on Mount Zhongnan was kept secret.

Several imperial princes hurried down the mountain.

Unexpectedly, not a single person blamed Mount Zhongnan.

Nor did anyone investigate the cause of the Emperor’s death.

What had once been a solemn three-day fasting and purification ritual now dwindled to only a few eunuchs guarding the imperial body, lonely and ignored. It was not until three months later that the capital hastily dispatched envoys to escort the Emperor’s remains back.

Half a month later, the capital’s situation shifted abruptly; the Second Prince ascended the throne in haste, changing the era name to Zhenghe.

In the same year’s ninth month, the Eighth Prince fled the capital and hid in the northern Jiang region, where his maternal clan resided, issuing a proclamation to punish the traitors.

“I, the Emperor’s closest kin, the rightful heir of Daqing.”

“The court is in chaos, wicked men abound; no upright ministers remain, and treachery festers within. I must train troops to punish them, to cleanse the court and purify the sovereign’s side. Justice and treachery cannot coexist under heaven; I shall invoke Heaven’s mandate to pacify the state. May Heaven, Earth, and the spirits bear witness to my heart.”

The noble families of northern Jiang responded en masse.

The Fourth and Sixth Princes followed suit, issuing proclamations to punish the traitors; fires of rebellion blazed across Daqing.

Among them, the Fourth Prince’s proclamation drew particular attention, denouncing: “The Northern Wind witch has corrupted the court’s order; her crimes are too numerous to record. Her removal is essential to secure the realm.”

The nation plunged into chaos.

In southern Daqing, war raged incessantly; in contrast, the five northern provinces remained calm and undisturbed.

This year, you were thirty-three, still quietly cultivating on Mount Zhongnan. Though progress was minimal, you did not grow discouraged; each day you toiled with diligence, rising with the morning mist and sleeping with the stars.

Through spring and autumn, you never once slacked.

Diligence can compensate for lack of talent—this has been true since ancient times.

At year’s end, Mount Zhongnan welcomed good fortune: Lu Yu took on his second disciple, found among wandering beggars. The world was growing chaotic once more.

The next year, your cultivation advanced slightly; the Great Yellow Court reached its eighth level, filling you with joy.

You drank a flask of fine wine alone beneath the bright moon.

In the spring of the third year, news arrived from Northern Wind: Tuoba Shu’s conspiracy succeeded; the following month, he declared himself Emperor in Northern Wind.

In the same year, Daqing suffered a century’s worst drought; the people reaped nothing, noble families seized land ever more aggressively, warfare erupted frequently, and the common folk suffered bitterly.

In the south, large-scale uprisings broke out, shaking the very foundations of the state.

At this perilous moment, the aged eighty-year-old general Wang Yang stepped forward, leading troops to quell the rebellions and rescue the collapsing situation.

A folk rhyme now spread through Daqing: “The Emperor died on Zhongnan; the dragon’s aura is lost. He cannot hold this ten-thousand-li realm.”

Simultaneously, Daqing’s neighbor Qianyuan ended its eighteen-year civil war.

In the same year, Qianyuan concluded its civil war; its sixth princess ascended the throne as Empress, changing the state name to Kaiyuan.

That autumn, Qianyuan’s army marched out of Hangu Pass and attacked Da Chu.

By late autumn, Han and Chu set aside their old grudges, swore blood oaths on Baoding Mountain, and united to resist Qianyuan’s invasion.

As the New Year approached, Tuoba Shu of Northern Wind ascended a high altar to honor his ancestors, feasted his ministers, and revealed his ambition toward the Central Plains: “May the aura of the Central Plains remain as before.”

Across the land, smoke rose everywhere.

Yet in northern Daqing, relative peace endured.

As the New Year drew near, another year was about to begin—and one year after that would be the Jiazi year.

At this time, a letter arrived from the north at Mount Zhongnan, written by your former subordinate, Feng Haiping, one of the Twenty-Six Generals of the Lu Family Army.

The Twenty-Six Generals were the twenty-six most outstanding men who had marched northward under Lu Chen’s command.

Feng Haiping now commanded Daqing’s Zhenbei Army, composed largely of former Lu Family soldiers.

You opened the letter; it spoke mostly of border defenses, mentioning Northern Wind’s restless stirrings and apparent intent to march south.

At the end, a blood-written note was attached, bearing the names of the Twenty-Six Generals of the Lu Family Army, each marked with a fresh red thumbprint.

By candlelight, the blood note contained only two lines:

“Respectfully, to the Young Protector, Lu Chen!”

“In the Jiazi year, all under heaven shall be auspicious.”

You understood its meaning clearly.

You silently burned the letter, turned, and walked into the Living Dead Tomb, beginning your stance training as if alone in the world.

The fourth year: you were now thirty-seven, your cultivation stalled for two years, trapped in a bottleneck.

The fifth year: the world grew ever more turbulent; Qianyuan stationed eighty thousand troops at Hangu Pass, watching with hungry eyes.

In southern Daqing, rebellions multiplied; more and more turned to banditry, and refugees began fleeing northward.

At year’s end, Lu Yu welcomed three new disciples; your total number of disciples now reached seven, most of them orphans of this chaotic age, each with extraordinary talent and pure hearts—you loved them dearly.

You felt deep satisfaction at becoming their Master’s Master.

Liu Jinchan once suggested you take on disciples of your own, but you waved your hand and smiled: “Lu An’s disciples are my disciples; I shall teach them all I know.”

Under the meticulous guidance of Lu Yu, the great master of martial arts, the seven disciples advanced rapidly, their progress astonishing day by day.

Among them, your first disciple, taken in years ago, had already surpassed you and become the top student of the sect.

You sighed inwardly: talent truly defies ordinary measure.

The seven disciples revered you deeply, never daring to slacken in their respect.

The world was in chaos, but Mount Zhongnan remained unchanged.

The seventh year: you were forty, and as always, you began your cultivation—when suddenly, you sensed something different.

At dawn, the crimson sun rose; the green peaks of Mount Zhongnan remained as ever.

Congratulations: After years of relentless practice, Lu Chen awakened the Destiny of Late Bloomer.

Claim it now?

1. Yes.

2. No.

As the light screen on the tripod flowed, then froze.

Yu Ke’s eyes blazed with excitement.

Damn it!

This destiny has finally awakened.

Lu Chen is forty now—will this destiny truly defy heaven and alter fate?

“There are times when man defies heaven; heaven never seals the path of man.”

Yu Ke did not hesitate: Give me… points.

Wrong channel!

Hmm, let me choose!

Select 1. Yes.

With your choice made.

Simulation continues.

The forty years of your Dao cultivation surged through you like a tide, shattering the bottleneck that had long held you back.

The barrier between you and the heavens and earth vanished.

You felt only the gentle mountain breeze brushing against you.

Refreshing, crystal-clear!

The Great Yellow Court leapt from the ninth level, breaking through four more realms in succession; your accumulated strength erupted, and now you stood among the elite of the martial world.

The morning glow rose on the horizon.

The sun ascended; you opened your arms, gazing at the eastern sky.

You let out a long, resonant cry, heart surging.

Joy filled your chest, too great to contain.

You could not help but laugh aloud:

“Forty years of Dao cultivation—and finally, the morning glow opens for me.”

Laughter echoed through the mountains.

In the following two months, your cultivation advanced further; the Great Yellow Court reached its highest level.

Your cultivation soared day by day; each day brought new breakthroughs and insights.

Standing among the mountains, an aura naturally arose from you.

This year, at forty, you finally entered the Master realm—a true master of the martial world.

Today’s simulation ends. Please return tomorrow.

Reward being acquired…

(End of chapter)