Chapter 272: Within the Capital, the Emperor Meets the Emperor

Emperor Ji Zichang stared at the young Daoist with a gentle smile, his mind momentarily frozen—because the swirling tides of this world, the very future direction of the realm, rested on his shoulders.

He was only in his thirties, having sat in silence for days; as a royal scion, ruler of Zhongzhou, from his position he ought to have chosen the first imperial decree—to patch and mend this crumbling world and its fading dignity.

Yet within him burned a fire.

A sharp, searing qi scorched his liver and lungs, making him ache, desperate to tear apart the ropes tightening around him, choking his breath—so he wrote the second imperial decree.

He wavered between these two decrees.

He had intended to consult Gongyang Su Wang.

He had already reached Gongyang Su Wang's door, yet laughed bitterly: "This is merely an attempt to shift the responsibility for the consequences of my decision onto the one who offers advice."

"Only I can make this decision."

"At a time when the world is changing."

"A ruler must no longer heed others' counsel—the sin of losing the realm can be borne by none but me."

The world seemed to split into two paths before the Red Sky Sword: one path would keep Qin Wu Hou—he would never accept or tolerate this, he would leave, severing ties with Zhongzhou utterly, yet stripped of Zhongzhou's legitimacy, Qin Wu Hou would face a period of hardship.

But he would rise again.

Zhongzhou's decline would be delayed by several years.

The second decree would grant Qin Wu Hou the very thing he lacked: legitimacy—the Supreme Commander of All Troops under Heaven. Zhongzhou held this title, but it was hollow, offering no support; yet in this world, legitimacy carried immense weight.

Supreme Commander who commands all troops under heaven.

The legend of the Red Emperor had not yet vanished entirely—bearing this title, Li Guanyi, of humble origins, would gain the righteous mandate to punish all who defied him; scholars across the realm could not denounce him, and common folk everywhere would urge him forward.

The armies of Chen and Ying nations were, in name, bound to his command!

With this title, Li Guanyi would become an untouchable figure in the hearts of the realm—attacking him would mean rebellion.

In this chaotic age, Li Guanyi and his Jiangnan would become an offensive target too dangerous to choose in the short term.

Even the warlords, overlords, and famed generals of Chen and Ying would not be bound by this title—but their ordinary soldiers and captains would bear the crushing pressure of fighting without righteous cause.

The Fire Qilin Army would gain a terrifying morale boost: to punish the disobedient, to crush the traitorous. The lingering might of the Red Emperor from eight hundred years past would manifest as an invisible yet undeniable prestige.

This was an invisible yet colossal force of public opinion.

But in the annals of history, every warlord or general who reached this point had eventually rebelled—even if they themselves did not, they would be swept up by the tide of the world, seize control of court affairs, depose and install emperors.

Yet this could grant the Red Emperor's lineage a dignified end.

Let the realm descend into chaos; let the Red Emperor's final Supreme Commander wage war upon the world, defeat Chen, defeat Ying, and let the eight-hundred-year legend burn itself out in glorious flame.

The legend of the Red Emperor began with the sword, and ended with fire.

Yet even with such boldness in his heart, making this decision was beyond the capacity of any ordinary man.

And just as Ji Zichang sat alone, weighed down by this sorrow, he met Li Guanyi.

At first glance, Ji Zichang even suspected the boy had come deliberately to find him—being an emperor, he had seen such things before—but he immediately realized otherwise.

He recognized Li Guanyi; Li Guanyi did not recognize him.

When Li Guanyi rose to fame, his portrait had already been sent to the Zhongzhou imperial palace.

Yet no painter in the realm dared to circulate the portrait of the great emperor of Zhongzhou.

Not even a thousand gold pieces or a beauty at his side could sway them.

Do not underestimate the bond between a painter and his nine clans.

Moreover, even if one painted the emperor's portrait, it would lose the man's true essence, instead portraying only the divine majesty of the throne—far removed from reality. And Ji Zichang, having sat in silent anguish for seven or eight days, was unkempt and disheveled.

No wonder Li Guanyi, who had never seen him, failed to recognize him—even court officials seated far back likely could not identify him. He smiled and said: "Yes, sir, are you also a disciple of the Scholar's Academy?"

He raised his wine flask and said: "Care for some? Premium fruit wine."

This wine had flavor but was hard to intoxicate.

Ji Zichang had no right to get drunk, let alone drown himself in it.

He was merely being polite.

But Li Guanyi, who had wandered the world with Murong Qiushui since childhood, knew nothing of politeness—when invited, he did not hesitate. He sat beside Ji Zichang, reached out, seized the expensive flask, tilted it back, and poured.

A stream of wine shot through the air and into his throat.

Li Guanyi's eyes lit up.

Hss… hey, this wine!

Far superior to Lei Laomeng's monkey wine!

He took a large swallow, wiped his mouth, and noticed the bearded, unkempt man beside him, frozen in place, hand still extended, holding the flask as if offering it.

Ji Zichang's thoughts froze.

Wait—I was just being polite.

You actually drank it?

Li Guanyi shoved the flask back into Ji Zichang's hands, cheerfully declaring: "Fine wine! One day I'll give you a flask of my own. Today…" He glanced at the flask at his waist, then looked away. "Today… it's inconvenient."

"I am Li Yaoshi, disciple of the Scholar's Academy. And you, sir?"

Ji Zichang stared at the flask, unsettled.

Since childhood, he had never been accustomed to sharing a wine flask or eating vessel with another.

This habit, formed over thirty years, was etched into his instincts—even though Li Guanyi had not touched the flask with his lips, Ji Zichang still felt a knot in his chest. He smiled and said:

"I am Changwen, disciple of the Scholar's Academy. Pleased to meet you, sir."

He retrieved the flask, tucked it aside, and quietly wiped it with his hand.

After a pause, he offered it again.

Li Guanyi asked curiously: "What's wrong?"

Ji Zichang smiled warmly: "I have always cherished the virtue of helping others achieve their desires."

"Brother Li, since you love this wine, I give it to you as a gift upon our meeting."

Li Guanyi thought the scholars of the Academy and the Fire Qilin both valued such formalities—when meeting the old Fire Qilin and this bearded uncle named Changwen, they both offered gifts first. Li Guanyi said, "Then I shall not refuse your kindness."

"Someday, if I get the chance, I'll give you a return gift."

Li Guanyi stared at the wine flask and praised, "Such exquisite craftsmanship—surely it's expensive."

Emperor Ji Zichang's lips twitched.

What is a wine flask?

The wine inside is even more expensive!

This fellow is exactly as the legends say—born a commoner. Any noble youth with discernment would instantly recognize this as imperial tribute ware: a single piece of silver hammered into shape, its surface etched with intricate patterns, exquisitely crafted.

And this rich, fine wine is among the finest tribute liquor.

Li Guanyi unceremoniously took the wine flask from the Emperor's hands and strapped it to his waist. "I've accepted your gift; though I can't return it immediately, I won't ignore it."

"I just saw you sitting here sighing—what trouble are you in?"

Li Guanyi still carried within him the spirit of a wild, bold hero.

Mostly, he felt indebted—he couldn't just walk away.

Emperor Ji Zichang fell silent, gazing at the sixteen-year-old boy before him, at the boldness in his brows, and sighed inwardly.

What else could it be?

Isn't it because of you?

But he couldn't say that. Imperial education had instilled in Ji Zichang some restraint and depth of character. His thoughts shifted slightly, contemplative: the world is vast; having met this man, let him decide his own fate.

Emperor Ji Zichang's voice was gentle: "I've encountered some confusion."

"I find it hard to think clearly alone. I've happened upon you—perhaps you can advise me, help me decide."

Li Guanyi laughed. "Sure. But I'm only good with swords and blades."

"My advice might be useless."

"Still, please speak. I can at least be a listener."

Emperor Ji Zichang smiled faintly. He sat cross-legged in the shade, back straight, radiating quiet nobility. The boy leaned against a rock in the sunlight, legs sprawled, hands clasped behind his head.

Emperor Ji Zichang said, "I am a scion of a prominent family."

Li Guanyi nodded. "I can tell."

Emperor Ji Zichang asked, "How?"

Li Guanyi pointed to his posture. "Your manners are well-taught—even now, with no one watching, you still hold yourself this way."

"And you're rich!"

The atmosphere was broken. Ji Zichang's lips curled slightly, helplessly, his voice still gentle: "Students of the Academy should know: a gentleman is cautious even when alone."

"The more solitary you are, the more your true cultivation shows."

Li Guanyi praised: "Impressive!"

Seeing the boy's earnest admiration, Ji Zichang found it hard to maintain the mood. Still, he sat upright and dignified.

"I am a scion of a prominent family. Now, it's my turn to lead. But even prominent families don't remain prosperous forever."

"My family has declined after a hundred or so years."

"My grandfather had two old companions who helped build our family. Their descendants have grown distant from us—they plan to seize our shops and lands. The elders in our clan just sit around playing at dignity."

Ji Zichang compared the realm of Chi Di to a family, and shortened the timeline to avoid revealing too much to Li Guanyi, then said:

"Now, those two old companions' descendants run their own shops, while our family's holdings shrink. At this moment, another young Shopkeeper emerged from within our own business."

"This young Shopkeeper is capable. Though his underground operations are still small, at his age, having risen from nothing, he's already considered the brightest of his generation. But he's too young—he still can't match the old guard."

Li Guanyi asked, "So?"

Ji Zichang stared at the fellow before him. "So."

"What should I do?"

"I have two ideas. First: follow the elders' wishes—lure this young Shopkeeper back into the main lineage, marry a daughter of our family to him."

"Then control him: prevent him from growing too powerful and seizing our wealth like those two descendants, while using him to fight them, preserving our family's dignity."

Li Guanyi stared, dumbfounded, then blurted without restraint:

"That's stupid!"

Ji Zichang paused. He felt those four words voiced exactly what he secretly thought of those so-called uncles and elders—but he instinctively defended them: "The clan's elders have their own reasoning."

Li Guanyi said, "They're fools."

"At this point, still playing at high-handed balance? I think those elders deserve a good beating."

Ji Zichang partly agreed, and his thoughts stirred. He sighed.

Even if Li Guanyi hadn't guessed that the "family" and "Shopkeeper" referred to whom, he had nonetheless identified with Ji Zichang's situation and empathized with the young Shopkeeper.

That's why he judged the elders' choice as harmful and spoke these words?

If so, he was born to be a statesman, a power minister.

Emperor Ji Zichang's voice remained gentle: "Then let's say they're short-sighted."

He chose a less jarring term, then said: "I've thought of another option: total delegation."

Ji Zichang took a deep breath, fixing his gaze on Li Guanyi:

"Give the title of Grand Shopkeeper to that young man."

"Let him grow strong. Let him fight the other two Shopkeepers for control. Support him—even if our family perishes, it will be swallowed by our own Grand Shopkeeper, not outsiders. At least we keep some dignity."

He mocked himself inwardly, watching Li Guanyi—only to see the boy staring at him as if he were an idiot. Li Guanyi laughed: "Ah, I see. You're a bit stupid too, big brother."

Ji Zichang felt a surge of anger.

He had reached such insight and boldness—and Li Guanyi spoke like this.

Moreover, a sovereign being scolded always grows angry.

Emperor Ji Zichang couldn't help but sneer, his earlier gentleness gone:

"Then tell me—what are you going to do?"

Li Guanyi wiped the wine flask where Emperor Ji Zichang had drunk with his sleeve, tilted his head back, and swallowed a gulp: "Indeed, far better than Lei Laomeng's monkey wine."

Then he said: "I'm just curious—if you've already made this decision, why leave it to others to carry out? Haven't you ever thought of rising up yourself?"

Rising up.

Emperor Ji Zichang fell silent, thinking of his past struggles, and sighed: "It's too late."

Then he heard the boy say: "Who told you it's too late?"

Emperor Ji Zichang saw Li Guanyi smile, shaking the flask: "You care about preserving your family's face—supporting others while destroying yourself—what kind of dignity is that? If you truly have the will, shouldn't you do it yourself?"

"Even if you fail, you can still say with pride: I gave it my all."

Emperor Ji Zichang instinctively refused: "I'm not enough."

Li Guanyi said: "You haven't tried yet."

Emperor Ji Zichang said: "Then tell me—what should I do?!"

Li Guanyi said:

"Remove the elder clan members, silence the interference from every family and sect, seize control of the family and its industries yourself, then reform—cut away the bloated, bring in more talent to revitalize the industries, and finally confront the descendants of those two old partners."

Li Guanyi laughed: "I know this is the Imperial Academy—you're here not because of family, commerce, or industry."

Emperor Ji Zichang's heart tightened.

Li Guanyi said: "You're an official, aren't you?"

Emperor Ji Zichang said nothing. Li Guanyi grinned: "I can guess that much. But why give up? Why rely on others to restore your family's honor?"

He looked at Emperor Ji Zichang: "Are you afraid?"

"Afraid to face your father's old enemies?"

Emperor Ji Zichang clenched his fists, silent: "I'm not a hero like my ancestors."

Li Guanyi said: "What is a hero?"

Emperor Ji Zichang could not answer.

Li Guanyi said: "I once heard an ancient sage describe what a hero truly is."

The young Daoist Priest sat cross-legged, pointing to the sky. In late summer, the clouds and rosy hues above were thick, as if something coiled within them. Li Guanyi said:

"The dragon, as a creature, can be compared to heroes of this world."

"The dragon can grow large or small, rise or hide; when large, it summons clouds and spits mist; when small, it conceals its form and vanishes; when it rises, it soars through the cosmos; when it hides, it lurks within the waves. Now, the dragon rides the tide of change, just as a man, when he finds his fortune, roams the four seas."

"Yet, the one who summons clouds and spits mist is a hero—and so is the one who conceals his form and vanishes."

Listening to this description, Emperor Ji Zichang was spellbound, staring blankly:

"Such a hero."

"Who in this world could be worthy of it?"

Li Guanyi fell still.

Without changing expression, he smiled calmly: "I'm just a Daoist Priest."

"I don't know."

"But… has your heart felt lighter?"

Emperor Ji Zichang looked at Li Guanyi.

Emperor Ji Zichang had assumed Li Guanyi, having entered his own situation, would urge him toward the second choice—but instead, this young man had offered a third path.

Rising up… Am I afraid?

So this… is the bold heart of my ancestors?

If Li Guanyi had recommended the second choice, he'd be a born politician, a power-broker. But now he spoke the third path outright—who is this man? Has he never once considered his own circumstances?

Emperor Ji Zichang sighed.

What kind of man is this? Did fools like this truly exist in ancient times?

Li Guanyi drank half the wine, planning to take the rest back to his great-grandfather.

Then he looked at Emperor Ji Zichang: "Has your heart felt lighter?"

Emperor Ji Zichang smiled gently: "Yes."

"After hearing your words, I've gained some clarity—I must make my decision soon." His smile was calm and serene. It was already afternoon; by the time he returned, dusk would fall. Tomorrow was the banquet that would decide the fate of the world.

At that moment, Emperor Ji Zichang felt his arm tighten—he instinctively looked up and saw the boy standing in the sunlight suddenly reaching out, gripping his arm, his palm strong, as if one could feel the pulse and heartbeat pounding within.

Li Guanyi said: "Your expression doesn't look like that."

"Besides, you've only just sat here drinking in silence—why rush back?"

"You, as head of a noble house, live too tired, too stifled."

"I've thought of a way to repay you."

Emperor Ji Zichang said: "I…"

The boy smiled, and pulled hard.

Emperor Ji Zichang, seated beneath the dense tree, instinctively resisted.

But he, a Fourth Heaven Emperor who could summon the Crimson Dragon Manifestation only through ancestral relics—how could he possibly match a battle-hardened general known for his ferocity?

This ancient tree had been planted eight hundred years ago by the Crimson Emperor himself when he founded the Academy, and ever since, generations of students had tended it with care. Now it was no longer merely a broad canopy—it was wildly lush, and in the height of summer, not a single ray of sunlight could pierce through.

Like a sovereign's canopy.

Emperor Ji Zichang was pulled up, stumbling out of the shade, staggering two steps into the sunlight.

Li Guanyi laughed loudly: "Perfect—I see you're still free."

"And I'm free too—and I have some money."

"It's lively outside—come on, come out for a drink! I'll treat you to a meal, as repayment for your wine."

Emperor Ji Zichang said: "No, what I meant was..."

He paused, then smiled: "My wine is very expensive."

"One meal may not be enough."

Li Guanyi laughed: "Now that's more like it."

He grabbed this bearded uncle, stepped forward—Li Guanyi's physique combined the strengths of the Military School and the Buddhist path, finally merging into the legendary path of Zhang Ziyong; seeing this uncle dawdling and reluctant, he yanked him hard.

Emperor Ji Zichang was nearly dragged off his feet, racing toward the academy's outer gates.

Gongyang Su Wang and Mo Juzi walked out side by side.

Mo Juzi said: "The future debate will determine Li Guanyi's fate in Jiangnan and the Fire Qilin Army. Ying State and Chen State have deep roots; Jiangnan is fierce, yet it has only risen for a year—but I see you aren't the least worried."

Gongyang Su Wang said: "A gentleman has no worries."

Mo Juzi clicked his tongue: "You hide everything inside yourself while pretending to be so calm and pleasant—that's why I despise your Confucians."

"Old bastard!"

"Why did you come to me today? And why are you staying here?"

The old man in black Confucian robes scratched his ear, expression unchanged:

"Zhao Laoqi is dealing with that kid."

"The screams are too intense. A gentleman stays away from the kitchen—by extension, a gentleman feels pity when witnessing brutality, yet the kitchen is about food, which is right."

"Even if it is right, hearing and seeing it still stirs compassion."

Mo Juzi said: "So?"

Gongyang Su Wang smiled:

"So stay far away—don't look, don't listen, don't think."

"Do not listen to what is improper. Do not look at what is improper. Do not think of what is improper."

Mo Juzi shook his head: "So this is what you mean by acting freely without transgressing the bounds?"

Gongyang Su Wang laughed loudly: "No!"

He teased: "It's just that after hearing too many screams, your ears start to hallucinate..."

At that moment, they sensed Li Guanyi's aura rushing toward them. The two elders stopped walking, waiting for this valued junior, turned back, and heard the boy's spirited voice:

"Master Su Wang, Master Mo Juzi, good day to you both!"

Gongyang Su Wang smiled: "Of course it is good..."

Mo Juzi was far more boisterous: "You finally showed up! You never come visit the old man—I've been..."

Su Wang and Mo Juzi turned back.

They saw Li Guanyi—and the pendant in his hand.

Confucian Gongyang Su Wang.

First Mo Juzi of the Mohists.

Both elders fell into a deathly silence.

The earlier cheerful laughter died instantly.

"Huh?!!"

?? My routine, snap out of it, damn it!