Chapter 144: The Wind of a Sovereign: Kill Chen Yuyun

Fengqiwu is a rare heavenly treasure, comparable to Fire Qilin blood or Dragon Blood Grass; even in the Ghost Market, such a thing is hard to find, yet in Li Zhaowen's hands, it seemed worthless, casually tossed to Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi caught the Fengqiwu—this was the thing that could cure his aunt's poison.

This item was exceedingly precious, and its significance meant even more to Li Guanyi; he found himself unable to offer the usual polished reply, only tracing his palm over the simple, ancient spiritual object before saying, "Thank you."

Li Zhaowen snapped her folding fan shut and joked lightly:

"Brother, why be so formal about such things?"

"Just repay me with a flask of wine someday."

Li Guanyi said, "All the fine wines in the world could not repay this debt."

"Hey hey hey, stop, stop."

Li Zhaowen snapped her fan shut and tapped Li Guanyi's lips with it, her brows rising as if slightly angered:

"Talking of 'debt' is going too far."

"If you mention debts or favors, I'll turn and walk away—pretend I never had a brother like you!"

"You dare say that!"

Seeing Li Guanyi nod, Li Zhaowen smiled and retracted her fan:

"Still, if you insist on repaying me, I won't refuse, will I?"

"I originally thought—if one day we meet on the battlefield, you'd retreat thirty li."

"But then I realized, you and I can never be enemies."

"Such a repayment would be too petty."

"Then let it be this instead."

Li Zhaowen thought for a moment and smiled: "In my life, I've always admired heroes."

"Li Guanyi, if you feel you must repay me, become the greatest hero under heaven. Then, even if we never meet again, I'll feel utterly delighted."

"When you roam the world in glory, I'll be the one who once knew you when you were unknown."

"Though heroes abound, who else has eyes like mine?"

"Just thinking of it makes me happy."

Li Zhaowen smiled.

Li Guanyi nodded, carefully storing away the Fengqiwu, his thoughts fixed on where Master Siming had gone—he longed to find the old man at once, abandon everything here, ride hard back to Yicheng, and heal his aunt's wound.

But he restrained the impulse, invited Li Zhaowen to sit, fetched wine, prepared simple, quick snacks, and drank with her in the courtyard; Li Zhaowen sipped and smiled: "Tastes good."

Better than the wine they'd drunk at Changfeng Pavilion.

After three rounds of wine, Li Zhaowen fell into her old habit—she unconsciously shifted from talk of flowers and moonlight to the grand affairs of the realm, and once started, she couldn't stop, her eyes bright:

"The Chen Kingdom's Grand Sacrifice is only days away; counting ahead, the martial trials begin tomorrow. So many participants—first, sixteen must be selected to fight in pairs. But with Yuwen Hua, Geshu Yin, and Xu Huiyang among them, most warriors know they have no chance of winning the title."

"The streets already say the title was made for those three."

"Others claim Xu Huiyang is the grandson of the Sword Saint, a famed young swordsman of the Jianghu, yet he came to court and became the Crown Prince's close friend—clearly seeking something, and this title is meant for him. They speak with such certainty."

"Yet still, the number of martial participants remains enormous."

"Brother, do you know why?"

Li Guanyi thought, then answered: "The feudal states."

Li Zhaowen clapped and laughed: "Exactly. All the Wang Hou of the states are here—that's the opportunity."

"Even if you can't reach the final round, you can still display your Wu Gong to the fullest—it's like handing out formal invitations to every king and general."

"The world is vast; such an opportunity comes once in decades."

"Even if these young warriors themselves don't wish to compete, their fathers will point them toward it. What do you think, Brother Li?" Li Zhaowen meant for Li Guanyi to display his talent before the Wang Hou, and thus step onto the world's stage.

She said: "Good winds carry you forward—using outside help at the start isn't a problem."

Li Guanyi thought of the inner library of the library hall, so irresistible to the Black Tortoise.

And of Princess Chen Qingyan.

He understood Li Zhaowen's hint, but only said: "I'll do my best."

Li Zhaowen smiled faintly: "Then I'll be watching."

"I only hope your talent and martial skill shine before the world, so all may know my eyes never misjudge; when you triumph, I'll host a feast for you—and I'll have a gift ready."

Li Guanyi asked: "What is it?"

Li Zhaowen unfurled her fan, covering her lips, leaving only her phoenix eyes visible as she smiled:

"You'll find out then."

"Your nature—hah, you'll like it."

She instinctively raised her fan to tap her forehead.

She tapped once, then remembered she'd just touched the boy's lips.

Li Zhaowen paused.

Then, expression unchanged, she set the fan down, her right hand clenching slightly, fingers pressing against her knee.

She touched her brow.

She did not mention it again, instead chatting casually about matters of the world; an hour later, she took her leave, and Li Guanyi saw her out. Returning inside, he stared at the Fengqiwu—even after ten years of tempering his nature, he still felt dazed.

He grinned silently, brushing his palm lightly over the object.

Li Guanyi felt a deep, complete release of breath; closing his eyes, he whispered:

"Good…"

His aunt's safety could now breathe a little easier.

The next day, indeed, many martial participants arrived for the preliminary trials; Li Guanyi saw young faces in different armors, and far across the great training ground stood the Emperor's carriage—he gazed from afar, Expression Solemn.

Even for the preliminaries, the Emperor's presence was extravagantly grand: his ceremonial robe embroidered with sun, moon, stars, and constellations; his leather cap made of lacquered gauze; thirty-six thousand yellow banners and ceremonial weapons; chariots and litters; the Empress's procession; the officials' robes—all made to dazzle.

Lavish and magnificent, like a god from heaven.

Li Guanyi heard a loud voice of praise.

Even some commoners proudly told the Westerners that the Emperor of the Central Plains possessed such majesty that no foreign barbarians like them could ever imagine it; Li Guanyi looked over and saw that the commoner's clothes were not luxurious, and he could even see the stitches of the patches.

Yet they still took pride in the Emperor Chen's splendid chariot.

Li Guanyi wore armor and carried a weapon; he appeared holding a battle halberd.

Li Guanyi actually felt that during the initial trial, although many high officials spoke, most of the high officials and even their families paid little attention to the martial artists competing—despite these warriors seeing the contest as their own opportunity.

In truth, the high officials treated the contest as a casual entertainment like sword dancing, and what mattered was mingling with other nobles; yet Li Guanyi also noticed strategists and officials from various military factions intently watching the competition stage.

A thousand soldiers are easy to find; one general is hard to come by.

The martial skill of young officers is also an important standard of evaluation.

In this world, martial artists wearing heavy armor can truly influence small-scale battle outcomes and greatly affect morale; Li Guanyi saw other duels elsewhere, and Ye Buyi and Zhou Liu's camp both nodded to him, their expressions relaxed.

The nobles above spoke their own words.

The martial artists below fought their own battles.

Li Guanyi surveyed the battlefield, and as the common folk said, the strongest were Yuwen Hua, Geshu Yin, and Xu Huiyang; all three nearly ended their matches in just a few strikes—Xu Huiyang never even drew his sword, defeating opponents with a gentle smile.

Chen Yuyun was the same.

Li Guanyi saw Chen Yuyun's battles were equally swift and decisive.

Often a single punch or kick was enough to win.

Moreover, he chose his weapon based on his opponent's: if the opponent used a sword, he used a sword; if the opponent used a spear, he used a spear—using the opponent's own most skilled weapon to crush them head-on, with utter brutality.

All those defeated turned pale and lost their spirits.

Soon it was Li Guanyi's turn; the boy thought, recalling yesterday's words from Li Zhao Wen: Yuwen Hua, Geshu Yin, Xu Huiyang, Chen Yuyun—all were like Li Zhao Wen, showcasing their talent and martial arts before the world.

He thought again of Chen Yuyun's domineering nature: defeating you squarely in your own strongest domain.

The Emperor Chen's splendid chariot came in person to watch the initial trial.

Li Guanyi understood this was the Emperor Chen building up his son's prestige.

Li Guanyi picked up an unsharpened sword, then donned the competition armor; Ye Buyi and others bumped fists to encourage him, while the others—Yuwen Hua, Xu Huiyang, Geshu Yin—also turned their gazes here.

Suddenly, a shout rang out.

"Li Guanyi!"

The boy on the stage paused, lifted his head, and looked over.

Among the high officials and nobles, a girl with her hair tied up, floral forehead adornments, and jade hairpins waved at him; her almond eyes shone bright, her smile blooming like flowers—amidst the sea of powdered, wealthy matrons, her eyes were like amber, shouting loudly:

"Win!"

This kind of encouragement was unique.

Here, martial artists fought for their futures; military factions sought new young officers; high officials built connections; the Emperor built up his son's image—yet only one person shouted loudly, "Win, Li Guanyi!"

The area where the noblewomen sat suddenly fell silent.

The ladies and young ladies looked at the laughing girl; they seemed to remember something, sighed, and smiled kindly; Li Guanyi looked toward the Young Lady's direction, sighed, and raised his hand, clenching his fist toward her.

Then he put down the sword.

The long blade sheathed.

He reached out, gripped the hardest-to-learn battle halberd, lifted this unsharpened competition weapon, and with a casual shake, the halberd pierced the air with a sharp, whistling cry; then, holding it single-handedly at an angle, he stepped onto the training stage.

His opponent's face slowly turned pale.

The Young Lady cheered for Li Guanyi, watching the boy holding the halberd.

Above, Chen Qingyan, with snow-white temples, watched them both in silence; for some reason, she suddenly grew dazed, as if seeing her past self and that man—time always works this way: in the next generation, one glimpses echoes of one's own former self.

The young man facing Li Guanyi was the second son of a fourth-rank imperial military officer, named Xiang Guangtao, who had devoted himself to martial arts.

But when he saw his opponent was Li Guanyi, his expression turned pale.

When he saw Li Guanyi put down the sword and pick up the halberd,

and when he saw the girl, seemingly his childhood sweetheart, cheering for him, the young officer's face lost all color—but he gritted his teeth, stood firm, gripping his spear, and said: "Sir, I request your guidance!"

Li Guanyi said: "I'm merely a ninth-rank guard."

Xiang Guangtao said: "But in our eyes, you're still that Sir…"

He thrust his spear with all his strength; Li Guanyi's halberd trembled in his palm, pressing the spear downward—had Li Guanyi stepped forward, the halberd would have swept up along the spear shaft, disarming him instantly.

Xiang Guangtao's face went white, but the next moment, Li Guanyi merely withdrew the halberd.

Li Guanyi planted his halberd on the ground, then raised his left hand, extending it forward, saying:

"Come."

Xiang Guangtao froze slightly, then understood Li Guanyi's meaning—he realized the boy was giving him a chance to display his skills; gratitude flashed in his eyes, and he said: "Thank you, Sir…"

Then he stepped forward and unleashed his full martial art.

Li Guanyi did not win quickly; he merely held the halberd, sparring with Xiang Guangtao, and like Xue Shen guiding him, he guided Xiang Guangtao's spear tip, coaxing him to reveal every technique he knew—halberd and spear clashed in a continuous, unbroken rhythm.

Xiang Guangtao felt he was nearly surpassing himself; suddenly he let out a long roar.

Ten thousand spear shadows converged into one thrust.

Li Guanyi brought down his halberd, shattering the thrust; Xiang Guangtao's palms went numb.

He staggered backward.

Then he looked up and saw a hand extended toward him—the boy in dark green armor, holding the halberd single-handedly, smiled: "Your courtesy."

Xiang Guangtao was sincerely humbled: "... Thank you, Sir, for your instruction."

He saw his father exhale in relief, saw military strategists nodding at him; he felt a dizzying sense of breakthrough—and then he saw Li Guanyi walking away; he bowed deeply toward the boy's retreating back.

Zhou Liu's camp said: "Strange, Boss, you didn't win decisively today."

Ye Buyi said: "... It seems so. He must have his reasons."

Li Zhao Wen froze, then clapped his hands and sighed, saying, "I advised you to display your talent before the Wang Hou, yet you did the exact opposite—impressive, impressive. Others show their brilliance to the feudal lords; you showed your magnanimity to these young martial officers."

"Upright and honorable."

"Hahaha, impressive."

Only a few noticed Li Guanyi's actions.

Po Jun's lips curled up, then suppressed, then curled again.

Impossible to control.

This is the aura of a sovereign—grand, majestic, winning their hearts!

The Emperor watched the battles unfold, seeing his son triumph with exhilarating ease—worthy of the time he had invested in his training—and turned to the Divine General Yuwen Lie beside him: "General Yuwen, among this tournament, is there anyone worthy of your notice?"

Yuwen Lie said, "The grandson of the Sword Saint truly carries his grandfather's spirit, but he remains a martial artist of the Jianghu, not a general's material; Geshu Yin possesses extraordinary presence, yet he is old, silent, and lacks bold valor—he may serve as a defensive general, but cannot rise to greatness."

The Emperor casually asked, "What of my imperial clan's nephews?"

Yuwen Lie glanced at Chen Yuyun, who had just defeated his opponent, and said, "A disciple of Yu Jin Bing Ge."

"His methods are excellent—full of blood courage and Wu Gong."

"He possesses the bearing of a Wang Hou."

The Emperor laughed heartily: "It seems the boy is quite promising—but still not as good as your nephew."

Yuwen Lie said, "Hua has Wu Gong and presence, but at best, he is merely a fierce general."

"Not fit to command a great army."

The Emperor asked curiously, "Then, General Yuwen, do you know of anyone with such talent?"

Yuwen Lie shook his head: "A true commander is hard to find." But after the Emperor departed, the Crown Prince of Ying asked Yuwen Lie the same question. Yuwen Lie fell silent, then pointed to Li Guanyi, who was fighting his opponent: "That man."

The Crown Prince of Ying was astonished.

Yuwen Lie spoke slowly: "He gives every young martial officer a chance to display their talent. Those who win do not grow arrogant; those who lose are sincerely grateful—even thankful to him. The highest form of warfare is to conquer the mind. This is the supreme strategy."

"Ten years from now, these young officers will remember this day."

"Chen Yuyun has high Wu Gong, but his malice is too heavy; Hua and Geshu Yin are merely fierce generals suited for breaking through lines."

The Crown Prince of Ying asked, "Then what of him?"

Yuwen Lie declared: "A commander!"

"My nephew commands troops; he commands commanders."

"Your Highness, if you have the will, invite him. If he comes to Ying, I will lay down my armor and beg his forgiveness before the entire court and heroes of the realm—I will carry thorns on my back to atone, without hesitation. This is a great talent—he deserves nothing less."

The Fifth Divine General of the Realm gave this answer with unreserved conviction, then added, as the Crown Prince stared in surprise: "But if he refuses, Your Highness, you must kill him."

"He will be your greatest enemy in the future."

The Crown Prince of Ying was startled, then slowly nodded, saying:

"Then I must meet him."

Li Guanyi won another match, then suddenly halted—he sensed overwhelming malice. Slowly, he raised his weapon, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. His Qi-Perceiving Art activated, revealing Yuwen Hua raising his weapon toward him, grinning with arrogant, unrestrained mirth—but beneath it, fierce battle intent.

Geshu Yin, having witnessed Li Guanyi's same demeanor toward Tie Futu the Captain, nodded amiably.

Xu Huiyang smiled like a Jianghu wanderer and nodded.

Chen Yuyun greeted him with a smile.

Li Guanyi saw behind Yuwen Hua a blazing, fiery battle intent and open, righteous hostility.

Geshu Yin fought only out of duty; Xu Huiyang acted from curiosity; only behind Chen Yuyun did a thick, viscous malice surge—crimson blood mingled with ink-black hatred, an evil intent surpassing mere killing, craving to torture and humiliate Li Guanyi to death.

Yet Chen Yuyun's face bore a warm, sincere smile: "Impressive."

Li Guanyi lowered his eyes and made his decision.

After the day's battles, Po Jun found Li Guanyi and enthusiastically praised the young man's victories. Li Guanyi said: "I have a favor to ask of Mr. Po Jun."

Po Jun exclaimed: "You used the Chen Empire's Grand Sacrifice to bestow goodwill upon these young martial officers—a sovereign's act! Whatever you need, speak—it shall be done!"

Li Guanyi said: "I want to kill someone."

"Please, Mr. Po Jun, devise a way for me to kill him myself without implicating myself."

Po Jun froze: "Who?"

Li Guanyi said: "Chen Yuyun."

Then he spoke one sentence that made Po Jun's pupils contract slightly.

"The Emperor's illegitimate son."