Chapter 88: Shaobao Enters the Capital, Marquis of Gaomi

The luminous screen above the great tripod slowly froze in place.

【In response to this situation, decide to...】

1. Continue cultivating the Dao. (Hint: Grand Master within five years.)

2. Enter the capital. (Hint: Situation unclear; may require many years.)

3. Participate personally. (1/3)

Yu Ke stared at the reincarnation prompt of the Celestial Being and sank into deep thought.

He knew that for Lu Chen, ten years of cultivation was indeed an excellent arrangement, allowing Lu Chen’s late-blooming destiny to be thoroughly tempered.

Perhaps in five years he could reach the Grand Master realm, perceive spiritual energy, and see his cultivation surge forward.

In the world’s first ladder realm, one can perceive spiritual energy.

The world within the tripod should be different.

Base oneself on martial arts, and open the gate of primordial nature.

Lu Chen’s current cultivation level could only be obtained after the first Celestial Being’s cycle ended.

Choose—2. Enter the capital. (Hint: Situation unclear; may require many years.)

It would surely delay cultivation.

In his original plan, these ten years were meant for cultivation.

But! Thinking back to the last simulation, when he participated personally...

Lu Chen’s eyes, utterly steady.

His younger brother Lu Yu’s unconditional trust in him.

His father and mother’s love for him.

Yu Ke’s heart could not bear it.

“Why do these Daqing people always block my path of cultivation?”

Abandon them, become a mountain-dweller with no desires.

Yu Ke’s heart could not do it.

He had already immersed himself in Lu Chen’s life.

Damn it!

If so, then like at twenty and thirty, change the tide of the world to gain the tripod’s reward.

Yu Ke decided to choose 2. Enter the capital.

With your choice, the simulation continues.

【You replied to Ma Bao, “Let’s set out today.”】

【“You An, prepare.”】

【Liu Jinchan’s face flickered with concern; he frowned, “Shenzhou, your hasty journey there may not be wise.”】

【“Why not take more disciples along, or...” He paused, as if making up his mind, “I’ll go with you myself.”】

【Yang Su immediately chimed in, “I’ll accompany my uncle and protect you.”】

【You gently shook your head, declining their kindness.】

【Yang Su was greatly disappointed.】

【Lu Yu stood aside, his voice firm: “Master, rest easy. As long as I’m here, no one can harm my brother.”】

【Liu Jinchan nodded slightly.】

【Ma Bao carefully studied your face for the meaning behind those words, but saw only calmness.】

【Yet deep within, he sensed that this Shaobao had changed—had made up his mind.】

【You entered the Tomb of the Living Dead.】

【You cultivated here for fifteen years, never descending from Mount Zhongnan.】

【You gently took off your Daoist robe and laid it on the stone platform beside you.】

【Then you walked to a long-forgotten wooden chest and slowly opened it.】

【Inside lay a garment.】

【Plain and unadorned, outwardly ordinary, yet upon close inspection, its inner lining was stitched from countless patches, meticulously sewn and repeatedly mended.】

【You picked up the garment, stroking it gently, your eyes soft with tenderness.】

【This garment.】

【Was the ten-thousand-people’s robe the northern folk gave you when you resigned from office to cultivate.】

【That day, over ten thousand ten-thousand-people’s umbrellas and thousands of ten-thousand-people’s robes arrived; you felt the people’s hardship.】

【You took only one, carefully preserving it all these years.】

【Today, you wore it.】

【Yang Su brought two fine horses for you both.】

【You and Lu Yu mounted up; your disciples stepped forward to see you off.】

【You turned back, and said, “Take care.”】

【Watching your retreating figures, Lu Yu’s disciples wore expressions of deep reluctance and worry.】

【They knew the journey to the capital was perilous—a confrontation with the Daqing Emperor.】

【The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger.】

【Some of the younger disciples could not help but whisper and weep.】

【All the disciples were somber; the air was heavy with sorrow—except Yang Su, who laughed heartily, his laughter echoing strangely.】

【It drew curious glances from the disciples.】

【This act naturally puzzled them; they exchanged uneasy looks.】

【After all!】

【Among the disciples, Yang Su was closest to his uncle; now that his uncle was heading to the capital, where fortune and misfortune were unknown, why was he so happy?】

【Yang Su sneered, “What do you know?”】

【Yang Su’s laughter faded; he gazed far off at the vast Mount Zhongnan and sighed:】

【“My uncle has wasted fifteen years here.”】

【“Now he departs—like a dragon granted rain, a great roc soaring to the ninth heaven.”】

【Liu Jinchan also nodded slightly and sighed:】

Shaobao enters the capital—the world stirs with turmoil and change.

…

…

…

Daqing, northern border.

The starry sky looked down upon neatly arranged camps, banners fluttering.

Amid the fierce autumn wind!

The words “Zhenbei” on the banners stood out sharply.

This was the famed Zhenbei Army camp.

The thirty thousand Zhenbei troops had long been the bedrock of stability in this northern land.

Its predecessor was the Lu Family Army, until fifteen years ago, when the Shaobao and young general resigned.

The Lu Family Army was reorganized and renamed the Daqing Zhenbei Army.

A decree from Daqing arrived, dusty and urgent, bringing joy into the camp.

In the commander’s tent.

A bonfire burned.

The flames lit every corner of the tent.

A eunuch with pale, delicate features read out the imperial edict.

He smiled warmly at the middle-aged man before him.

“Marshal, receive the edict.”

He paused, then added, “No—henceforth, you shall be called Marquis of Gaomi.”

“Your servant also has two more edicts for General Deng and General Wu.”

“Both are joyful news!”

Feng Haiping smiled, rose, and placed the edict on the table.

“Your Excellency, not so fast.”

“They’ll arrive shortly.”

Beyond the elaborate format and flowery language, the edict’s core message was clear:

“Chose Yanbei, planned Nanyang, breached two hundred cities, suffered no defeat.”

These words were a supreme praise for Feng Haiping’s decades of warfare.

Finally, the words carried the highest honor.

“Enfeoffed as Marquis of Gaomi.”

Among all Daqing’s living nobles, only twelve held the title of marquis.

The eunuch found the man’s behavior odd, and felt a flicker of doubt.

The eunuch’s name was Wei Hui, the Emperor’s lifelong companion.

With the Second Imperial Prince taking up the imperial insignia and ascending the throne.

When one man attains the Dao, even his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven.

Wei Hui naturally became Director of the Imperial Stable and Head of the Palace Rituals, wielding immense power, a minister favored by the Son of Heaven.

But!

He did not grow overly proud, knowing that deep within the capital’s back courtyard resided an ancient ancestor—the Nine-Thousand-Year-Old.

His rise had been like walking on thin ice; his current position was maintained with utmost caution and precision.

Five days ago, the Emperor issued three imperial edicts.

The Master instructed that this matter was of great importance.

Wei Hui dared not take it lightly; he rode north without pause, day and night, fearing to delay even a hair’s breadth.

Finally!

He arrived today, not daring to delay a moment.

He entered the camp at night to proclaim the imperial decree.

(End of Chapter)