[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations":3,"chapter-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-148":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Nation of Ten Thousand Nations",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2333116,4562,"Chapter 148: The Sultan","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-148",148,"\u003Cp>“Has anyone here seen Count Joscelin III of Edessa? I mean, Cesar’s father.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A knight asked, but immediately realized he had made a mistake. Count Joscelin III of Edessa had been captured and taken to Aleppo when Zengi seized Edessa Castle—he was only five years old at the time, and for the next dozen years he remained a prisoner, barely surviving in Aleppo Castle or other remote fortresses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether Tripoli, Antioch, or Arasal, all seemed to have forgotten him; even when their envoys came to Aleppo, they never mentioned him, let alone proposed to ransom him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I did meet Joscelin II, the father of Count Joscelin III of Edessa—in fact, even this father, while continuing to rule Western Edessa (before Zengi fully annexed Edessa), showed no intention of rescuing his only son, whether out of devotion to God or because he deemed it unwise to pay a large sum of money or cede territory for an heir who might yet be born.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, when he himself became a Turkic captive, he achieved nothing noteworthy—just as Cesar’s sister said, it was largely the efforts of the former Archbishop of Edessa and a few loyal servants that managed to get Cesar and his sister out of Aleppo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I did meet Joscelin II,” said an older knight hesitantly, “but he was a crude, uncultivated man, with little resemblance to Cesar. But I heard his wife, the Armenian Princess, was truly an unforgettable beauty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s it!” The atmosphere among the knights instantly brightened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’d say Cesar’s looks come from his grandmother or his mother. Yes, he is slender—I’m not saying he lacks masculinity. I mean…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ha, we understand you, understand. Sometimes I think he ought to be placed on an altar for people to worship.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If this were ancient Rome or ancient Greece, those pagans might well have done exactly that.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“His father would be overjoyed to see him. Who wouldn’t want a son like him?” sighed one knight. The others laughed at him—they only wished to be Cesar’s friend, brother, or brother-in-law, yet he fancied himself Cesar’s father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t harbor such ambitions,” said another knight. “If my future son had even one-tenth of Cesar’s qualities, I’d be content.” He clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t even dare hope for one-third—or even half. If he did, I’d be terrified—good heavens, he wouldn’t be fit for any mortal to possess.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This remark, perhaps unintentional, caused a momentary stillness in the room. Whether young or old, every knight present unconsciously stiffened; no matter how old they had grown, even if they themselves had become fathers and grandfathers, the shadows and fears left by their male elders still clung to them like parasites.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some recognized this as a mistake; others still treated it as gospel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some say the greatest wish a son can have is to hear his father say, “Son, I am proud of you.” But conversely, the greatest fear a son can harbor is his father’s disappointment—especially in this era, when the father, as the monarch of the household, held immense power over his children.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When they were disappointed in a child, the consequences ranged from neglect, coldness, beatings, or verbal abuse, to exile, forced entry into a monastery or army; and when a father had too many sons and one caused excessive trouble, he might even strip the son of his inheritance and surname, reducing him utterly to the very class he had once trampled upon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Cesar were only six years old, his father’s return would indeed be a blessing—but he is nearly sixteen already…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The knights exchanged glances: “His Majesty will find a way to handle this, won’t he?” said one knight hesitantly. The older knights, who had seen more, held no such hope—Baldwin IV was indeed a brave knight-king, but clearly, in politics, he remained naive, utterly inexperienced.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After his great victory at the Sea of Galilee, anyone could see he had grown arrogant; even Cesar found it hard to endure, yet he remained oblivious. When Cesar’s lineage was exposed, he saw only the benefits, not the dangers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I heard this mission was strongly pushed by the Patriarch Heraclius,” whispered one knight. The others nodded knowingly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A faint cough sounded outside the door. The knights instantly fell silent and sat up straight. Sure enough, Geoffrey entered from outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These chattering little birds! muttered the old knight to himself, but he knew he shouldn’t be too harsh now. If this were merely a routine mission, it would be fine—but this mission coincides with the death of Sultan Nur ad-Din, and the city is plunged into profound grief—just as Arasal was after Amalric I’s passing. For the next seven or eight days, this sorrow and fury will intensify and spread further, with nowhere to go—inevitably, a massive storm will soon gather, large enough to engulf all of Aleppo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And we are now at the very center of that storm—seemingly calm, but if any one of us steps out of line, we will immediately face the wrath of everyone else—then even the Sultan’s own son might not withstand the tide of popular rage; judging by the Saracens’ fanaticism, they might tear us apart into countless pieces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, all members of the delegation are confined almost entirely to their rooms or to the small, exquisite courtyard, forbidden to leave Aleppo Castle to visit markets or other places, and certainly not permitted to train or ride as they once did. According to the Knights’ Code, they are also forbidden to play chess or gamble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These days have been truly unbearable, but from outside the door, listening to their increasingly bizarre and erratic words, he knew he had to step in and stop them. After these past ten days, the vast majority of the knights had become Cesar’s supporters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s not surprising—people are always shallow; a perfect appearance alone can serve as sufficient proof for many to convince themselves. Earlier, some doubted him, fearing he was all show—this was not uncommon even among the Crusaders—too often, a man praised by minstrels as a saint like Peter or George turns out, upon close acquaintance, to be as vile as a hyena, rat, or maggot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if he proves consistent in word and deed, and fulfills these young knights’ fantasies in other ways, they won’t envy him—they’ll revere and trust him even more, like the knights who once gathered around King Arthur: each noble-born, masterful in combat, striking in appearance, worthy of respect as a lord in any land, yet all willingly obeyed Arthur, followed his commands into endless campaigns—wasn’t it because Arthur truly was a perfect saint?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But bringing such thinking into this environment now is inappropriate. After all, their leader is the Grand Master of the Order, their king is Baldwin IV of Arasal, and the one they ought to follow and worship is God—not a mortal man of flesh and blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He feared more that after Count Joscelin III of Edessa is released, these knights will openly display this vigilance and suspicion. If Joscelin III believes they act on Cesar’s orders, it will only worsen this already fragile father-son relationship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He recalled Baldwin IV’s parting instructions and couldn’t help shaking his head inwardly—he only hoped the Patriarch Heraclius’s arrangements might guide this father-son bond toward the direction everyone expected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave the knights one final warning glance, then left the room and went to Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, Cesar had only a pallet beneath the prince’s bed, or slept wrapped in bear fur outside Amalric I’s door—but now he had his own room. It was furnished entirely according to the standards of a Sultan’s son: the ceiling, walls, door lintels, and window frames were all adorned with exquisite carvings and vivid paintings. According to Saracen doctrine, human figures were forbidden—only flowers, birds, and beasts were allowed—but the artisans’ skill was so extraordinary that, when inside, one truly felt as if standing in a deep, secluded forest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Against the wall stood a wide, soft couch, draped with emerald-gold and golden curtains. Upon it lay soft pillows, cushions, furs, and silks tangled like flowing water, pooling on the floor and completely concealing the couch—only the four golden feet, carved into tiger claws, remained visible at the bottom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One glance, and Geoffrey felt an overwhelming urge to collapse onto it and sleep soundly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Cesar was no longer resting—he had lit a candle and was reading and transcribing several precious medical texts by the window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is it really necessary to rush like this?” Geoffrey said. “It’s already very dark—this will harm your eyes.” He lit another candle for Cesar as he spoke. “It’s also a way of consuming the enemy’s resources,” he added jokingly, but the sudden increase in light did make Cesar’s eyes feel considerably better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I neglected that—the light wasn’t this dim before,” Cesar said, setting down the scroll, leaning back, stretching his stiff limbs, then rising from his chair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He invited Geoffrey to sit and poured tea for both of them himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his former world, leprosy was no longer incurable. Through various methods—whether traditional Chinese or Western medicine—patients could be cured, or at least kept from worsening or relapsing. But in this world, among Christian kingdoms and societies, “doctor” had become a taboo word, and herbs were seen as the products of sorcerers and devils. Though many, including high officials, secretly sought them out, they could never be openly acknowledged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finding any related records in the Church was impossible. Even if they used herbs, they would claim they were the most sacred relics or holy water blessed by the bishop. The only person who could cure lepers using powers that didn’t exist in his former world was an old monk near the Pope in Rome—utterly loyal to the Pope, who would never let him leave the Vatican. They had no chance to contact him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar tried to find usable information in documents related to him, but the records were nearly all meaningless babble—either hymns or legends: how he placed his hand on a leper and the leper was instantly healed. To read such accounts was no better than reading scripture—Jesus did the same.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But what use were they to him and Baldwin now? None.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in Saracen medical texts—perhaps hard to believe—in this era, Saracen medicine, after absorbing diverse traditions, had reached a new peak. They had standard medical textbooks, medical academies and libraries, internal and external medicine… Among the medical books Cesar borrowed, he even found complete patient records—nearly identical to modern medical logs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They meticulously recorded time, dosage, and disease progression, including those they healed using the Prophet’s divine power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Cesar still found no record of leprosy being cured, he did find one case of a leper whose life was successfully extended to forty-five years under the “scholar’s” prayers and treatments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Baldwin and Cesar, even one extra day mattered. One more day meant one more day of Cesar’s research—perhaps within that day, he might achieve something extraordinary. Such things had happened even in his former world: a long-suffering patient, simply by adopting a new treatment, could rapidly improve—rapidly meaning a year, a month, a week, or even a single day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially the “Chosen One”’s gift of hope—this was an entirely new, profoundly effective treatment for Cesar. He wasn’t merely reading—he was learning, ravenously. Even if everyone claimed one who received “Grace” could never receive “Blessing,” so what?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Didn’t he have enough priests around him? He could explain his ideas to them and have them attempt and implement his calculations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so aggressive in Damascus—he realized that if he hesitated for the sake of empty fame, he might miss a precious opportunity—one that vanished instantly and might never return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They’re all worried about you,” said Geoffrey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar paused, then let out a quiet laugh. “Thank them for me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re not worried at all?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Every problem has a solution,” said Cesar. He owed this body a debt—even when he arrived, the soul within had already perished from fever and pain. Yet undeniably, this body’s biological parents not only gave him life but also sent him out of Aleppo Castle. He didn’t know what he’d be now if he’d stayed, but it certainly wouldn’t be better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if he was once sold into slavery, that was because Count Joscelin III of Edessa trusted the wrong person—not because he intended it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He must repay this debt, but he was not so naive as to blindly obey his parents; if they crossed his bottom line, he would take action to restrain them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, in his former world, he had already cultivated an independent personality and sound values. He wouldn’t be swayed by the priests’ words, nor would he blindly follow every rule of this world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Geoffrey was about to speak when a clear, resonant call interrupted them—like a song, like a prayer. “Their priests are calling them to prayer,” said the old knight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2154,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ea0f59eb42c0d6750b595ccfd5c36837b408703efacea375d57acf45921258e2","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-149","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-147",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]