Chapter 283: Wind! Wind! Great Wind!

Emperor Ji Zichang smiled and pulled Li Guanyi over, took out a wine flask, then pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle and placed it beneath the tree; after unfolding the bundle, inside were salt-roasted peanuts, some boiled eggs, and a bit of dried meat.

Eight hundred years ago, the Red Emperor planted this tree, founding the Imperial Academy.

Eight hundred years later, the Imperial Academy has spread across the land; Emperor Ji Zichang and Li Guanyi drink wine and eat meat beneath this tree.

Emperor Ji Zichang pointed at the eggs, saying with a touch of self-mockery: "I only just realized how cheap these eggs are—they don't even cost silver to buy; yet even such eggs, the common people of the realm are slowly unable to afford."

"Here, take one."

He tossed one over; Li Guanyi looked at it—it was charred black.

The color made Li Guanyi feel strangely familiar; after weighing his words, he said oddly: "... when you boiled these eggs, didn't you notice the water boiled dry?"

Emperor Ji Zichang's expression froze. "This, I—cough, cough."

He feigned a hearty laugh and swung his right hand forcefully:

"It's edible!"

Li Guanyi said: "That's true enough." He peeled the shell and bit into it, then took two salt-roasted peanuts, leaned against the big tree to enjoy the coolness, the autumn wind brushing past as he sipped wine—almost as if he could forget the current situation.

"What did Brother Changwen say?"

Emperor Ji Zichang smiled: "Something that will help you."

"That day on the high platform, I watched Master Wang Tong debate the Dao with the Hundred Schools—including the teachings of Cheng and Zhu—and dozens of schools, big and small, were shattered; yet these students, unbound, merely scattered."

"Chen has wealth, Ying has land; you, Li the Pharmacist, having shed that stench of poverty, what's left?"

Li Guanyi flew into a rage and kicked it over.

"To insult someone by exposing their weakness—why go so far?"

"Eat your ten-silver-coin eggs!"

Emperor Ji Zichang laughed loudly.

He said: "You, new here, while I've been here long enough to know the inclinations of the Hundred Schools—even without the academic cliques of Gejiage Sect, scholars across the states still have their desires."

Emperor Ji Zichang held the wine flask, leisurely saying: "The Military School will mostly head to Ying—there are a million elite troops, the greatest general under heaven, and three of the top five generals."

"For any disciple of the Military School, that is the place they crave; the School of Names and the School of Vertical and Horizontal Alliances will lean toward Chen—Chen is a fine land, littered with silver and gold clans; a single word from a disciple of the School of Names or Vertical and Horizontal Alliances can bring them wealth and fame."

"Your Jiangnan..."

"The Mohists, and some of the ancient Confucians."

"The Buddhist and Daoist lineages won't enter the realm anytime soon; but, Li the Pharmacist, do you know what the Mohists are trying to build? It's all money-burning projects—I've seen your followers buying grain, but you'll end up getting slapped back by the clans."

"You're still running porridge stalls and giving out free gruel—how much money do you still have left?"

Li Guanyi's forehead twitched.

When they first met, Emperor Ji Zichang had been gentle and refined; but after stealing something together and climbing over a wall, their relationship suddenly grew much closer; Emperor Ji Zichang picked up a salt-roasted peanut, tossed it into his mouth, and chewed noisily.

He shook the wine flask, pointed a finger at Li Guanyi, and grinned:

"Jiangnan holds the advantage of human harmony, but harbors the hidden danger of the clans."

"And it's short on money—this problem is plain to everyone in the realm."

Li Guanyi said: "Do you have money?"

Emperor Ji Zichang fell silent, then said: "I have the Central State treasury."

Li Guanyi said: "Does the treasury have money?"

Emperor Ji Zichang gave a self-deprecating smile: "It's all controlled by the clans; most of my expenditures were previously theirs. When I returned, I secretly investigated and discovered that what was called 'imperial use' had long been abandoned by them."

"To them, I, the current Red Emperor, am merely a figurehead; Ji Daochun doesn't even regard me as worthy of notice. To be honest, that day on the Imperial Road when you drew your sword and slapped him across the face—I found it immensely satisfying."

"If not for this title and face, I'd have pushed you away already."

"I'll do it!"

The Red Emperor's son finally shed the composure he'd shown at their first meeting—once seated upright even in casual robes, beard unkempt but spine straight; now his legs sprawled wide, head tilted back as he gulped wine, two fingers pointing far off as he roared:

"Fuck your old bastard!"

Li Guanyi stared, dumbfounded.

"Wait—he's not your relative?"

Emperor Ji Zichang fell silent, thinking.

Then he roared: "Old pig-dog who sells hooks!"

Li Guanyi's lips twitched; watching this solemn, ritual-bound emperor curse heaven and earth, he realized there were no scholars around—if there had been, both of them would have fled in shame; Emperor Ji Zichang took a sip of wine and said: "By the way, that old bastard rushed his burial—Li the Pharmacist, come with me!"

"Let's do something big!"

Li Guanyi realized this guy was starting to seem like a thug.

Emperor Ji Zichang wiped his mouth, picked up the silk-wrapped bundle of salt-roasted peanuts, tilted his head back and poured the remaining peanuts into his mouth, chewing loudly, then shook his hands—every last flavorful crumb fell into his mouth.

So Li Guanyi didn't press further about what the gift was.

The two wandered straight to Ji Daochun's burial site; due to the shifting state of the realm, Li Guanyi found the royal clan and clans troublesome, vexing—but the already hollowed-out Central State clans saw Li Guanyi as no less than a full-grown ferocious tiger.

Ji Daochun's death had placed the clans and Li Guanyi on opposite sides; the clans feared that if they gave him a grand, lavish funeral now, it would stir scholarly public opinion—these young scholars, though still easily swayed by the clans, were also at an age brimming with fiery spirit; once stubborn, no one could stop them.

Both Ji Zichang and Li Guanyi were skilled in Wu Gong.

After sneaking in, Ji Zichang pointed at the tombstone and launched into a furious rant.

Li Guanyi had tucked away some snacks; he ate them while watching Ji Zichang, drunk and cursing; from this boy's behavior, Li Guanyi realized that day on the Imperial Road, Ji Zichang had truly wanted to roll up his sleeves and beat Ji Daochun into a bloody mess himself.

After ranting, Ji Zichang still wasn't satisfied; he thought for a moment, then unfastened his belt.

He urinated on Ji Daochun's tombstone.

Li Guanyi stared, dumbfounded.

Li Guanyi burst out laughing.

Li Guanyi joined in.

The commotion seemed to alert the guards; someone shouted, "They're coming!" Li Guanyi and Ji Zichang dashed into the small grove, evading the pursuers, exchanged glances, and both roared with laughter.

"Thrilling, thrilling!"

Emperor Ji Zichang draped his arm over Li Guanyi's shoulder and said, "Good brother, today just keep me company in this folly again—I'll give you a gift later, won't let you down!"

Li Guanyi took a sip of Thousand-Day Drunk and said lazily, "Fine!"

He too carried a gloom within him; in this era dominated by layer upon layer of rules and order, his nature made these days anything but satisfying. The two clicked instantly—a emperor showing a touch of rogue spirit, and a vassal raised on the road.

But in truth, it was just about visiting the gambling den to see what it looked like, strolling through the Ghost Market to observe its trade. Emperor Ji Zichang had great interest in brothels and wanted to drag Li Guanyi along.

He was hoisted over Li Guanyi's shoulder.

Emperor Ji Zichang, drunk, asked, "Not interested?"

"Ah, you're this age, with this level of Wu Gong—could you be an… unbroken yang…?"

Crash!

Emperor Ji Zichang was thrown onto the ground with a backflip.

Lying flat on his back in the pavilion courtyard, Emperor Ji Zichang laughed loudly: "Pity, pity—I'm not much older than you. I do have a daughter, but she's only five. If she were twelve or thirteen, I'd betroth her to you."

Li Guanyi replied, "You're surprisingly open-minded."

Emperor Ji Zichang raised a finger and said, "After all, you're this age, with this skill—and how to put it…?" He stared at Li Guanyi and smiled, "Since the matter with Master Wang Tong, your aura has changed."

"Before, you carried a sharp, heroic spirit."

"Now, you've grown far more somber."

Li Guanyi said, "People change."

Emperor Ji Zichang said, "Indeed. If someone like me can change, how much more so you?"

Emperor Ji Zichang laughed until he was weak, clutching his stomach as he lay there, murmuring, "I have several daughters. Sons? Well, I have those too."

Li Guanyi asked, "How old?"

Emperor Ji Zichang gestured softly.

"I had one. But he died. Very young. Poisoned. His face was blue-purple, fingers curled tight. So cute. When I last saw his body, his little hand gripped a rope."

"It was the longevity lock I gave him."

"I wished for him to grow strong and healthy. I got it from the Imperial Academy's Daoist masters—it shattered when he died."

Li Guanyi looked at Emperor Ji Zichang.

As he described his son's death, his tone was flat.

No sorrow showed.

After silence, he added, "If he were still alive…"

"He'd be seven years and one hundred thirty-two days old."

"He'd be old enough to hold a sword and read."

Emperor Ji Zichang said, "He was the son of Consort Wen. I know who killed him—it was the Empress. But she claimed it was a palace maid, knelt before me weeping, saying she failed to manage the harem and begged me to punish her."

"How could I punish her?"

"My Empress is from the Qinghe Cui clan. Consort Wen is from the Wen family. This isn't personal—it's a struggle of power across the realm, spilling into the harem."

"Every consort, every lady-in-waiting is a daughter of a great clan. Master Yushi, guess why an Emperor can't have just one wife? If I had only one, wouldn't these annoying, bloody, tragic struggles vanish?"

Li Guanyi looked at him. Emperor Ji Zichang raised a finger, drunk, and said:

"No."

"If I had only one Empress—say, a Cui clan daughter with branches across all states—then without realizing it, the court would be filled with Cui clan members or their old allies."

"The Grand General would be my brother-in-law. The Cui heir would manage finances."

"In less than ten years, there'd be no capable officials left."

"All ministers would have to flatter them, because my sole Empress would bear my heir—the Crown Prince. Ha, ridiculous, isn't it? So we need women from different clans as concubines, to balance clan against clan."

"And the clean, talented scholars I favor? They're attacked by clan officials, forced to be demoted to protect them—but when I try to recall them, they die."

"Either they join a clan… or they die suddenly."

"I used to think it was fate—Heaven denied me timing. I lost my father young, lost my beloved later. As Emperor, those I trusted—scholars, ministers—either fell or died violently."

"You woke me up. Looking back now, every regret was a struggle. So-called fate? Just human design. Yes—in the imperial clan's eyes, I'm just a puppet."

Emperor Ji Zichang laughed, then fell silent for a long while, and said:

"The Emperor's suffering. All beings' suffering."

"But I'm still far better off than the common folk."

"I feel pain, I can drown it in wine, talk to you. But the people? They bow their heads and struggle just to live. In that light, my so-called pain sounds like false complaint."

"But when I look back on these thirty years, every step feels heavy, as if everything was guided by unseen hands. The more I think, the worse it gets. I can't sleep through the night. When it hurts too much, I can't help but cry."

"But are clan sons truly bad? Consort Wen was truly good—she gave me her whole heart. But I can't return it. If I did, her brothers would grow arrogant, and she'd be killed."

Emperor Ji Zichang drank deeply. He had reached the Fourth Heaven level of Wu Gong and, with his ancestral divine weapon, could manifest the Crimson Dragon's form—but now he was drunk.

Wine doesn't intoxicate—the man intoxicates himself.

"Brother, tell me—if I were just a poor wandering swordsman, how would it be?"

"A wooden sword, no shoes to wear, then I meet my 'died-of-illness' childhood sweetheart—she blushes shyly. I have heroism in my heart, the world in my eyes. Would our story have been different?"

"I sound like I deserve a beating, right?"

Emperor Ji Zichang gazed at the sky and said softly:

"Next life, I hope I'm not born into an imperial family."

Li Guanyi nodded seriously. "Yeah, you do deserve a beating."

Emperor Ji Zichang fell silent.

Li Guanyi said, "But following your words—if you were a poor swordsman, your story might not have turned out this way…" He stretched, pointed at himself, and said carefree, "I've wandered the Jianghu. As a child, hiding, I saw things."

"A beautiful girl was spotted by a minor clan—they had henchmen watching villages for pretty girls. For three taels of silver, five dou of grain, her parents sold her to the village landlord."

"You're a wandering swordsman; you refused to accept injustice, went to demand justice, got beaten half to death and thrown out. You went to report it to the officials, but the officials and this aristocratic family were wolves in the same den—you were framed with a trivial charge and thrown into prison."

"Your childhood sweetheart went willingly to appease the landowner for your sake."

"You were exiled; when you walked out of the village with tattoos on your face, your back swollen and pus-filled from the beating rod, chains bound around your legs, that girl was just entering the gate—she would become the seventeenth concubine."

"Saying this, though you were poor, marrying into my family meant you'd enjoy fortune."

"Later, you encountered bandits and barely escaped. You thought of seeking a master, but the martial world had too many rules and too much hierarchy. In the end, you bowed low and served others, barely learning Wu Gong, earning silver, and returning home."

"But you found that the girl had already been beaten to death by the chief wife."

"You gripped your sword, eyes bloodshot, but blades grow dull, and one man can never match a squad of Yamen Runners and soldiers. You caused a great uproar, trying to kill that aristocratic young master, but were finally shot dead by officials who arrived in response."

"After being shot dead, you were thrown into a mass grave, where wild dogs gnawed your bones."

"Your childhood sweetheart—that girl—is buried even deeper in that mass grave."

"You two are buried together, after all."

"At this very moment, the aristocratic family was marrying a new concubine."

"Saying…"

Li Guanyi fell silent, then said calmly:

"Though you were poor, marrying into my family meant you'd enjoy fortune."

For some reason, these words carried a faint, chilling coldness.

Emperor Ji Zichang remained silent for a long while.

Li Guanyi shook his wine flask and said: "The future you imagined is too good; the future I described is too terrible. But reality? It's a mix of both. The Emperor suffers; the common folk suffer. The Emperor's suffering stems largely from being powerless. The people's suffering stems from having no control over their fate."

"The people's suffering, because their lives are not their own."

"This story? It never happened… but I've seen every stage: human trafficking, killing concubines, the petty scheming of the martial world, the tyrannical bandits who ruled the countryside."

The boy's voice was calm, undisturbed.

Human trafficking in the black market; murdered palace maids; the soldier's last letter; the Fire Qilin Hunt; the Flowing Wind and Snow Pavilion; the Yin-Yang Cycle Sect's martial world; the local tyrants he saw when fetching Yuan Zhi's mother; the aristocrats sending a million taels of silver as gifts; the starving common folk who had to rely on the Qilin Army's porridge stalls.

Qin Wu Hou tilted his head back and drank, his gaze steady, strands of black hair at his temples lifting slightly.

The falling sleeves stirred like clouds.

I've seen them all.

These five words said everything.

You look down from above—at the aristocracy's arrogance, the ruthlessness of power plays, the bloodshed of their struggles. I look up from below—at the people's suffering, the aristocracy's tyranny, the killing in the martial world."

Emperor Ji Zichang suddenly burst into laughter, then sighed: "Well said."

"Well said indeed!"

The young Qin Wu Hou raised his wine cup and said: "Though this world is absurd, there's no help for it. Let's pretend we're doing our best—this toast is for the common folk, for you and me, in this chaotic age."

Emperor Ji Zichang raised an eyebrow: "A toast to a chaotic world?"

Li Guanyi said: "First courtesy, then force. After all, I'm still a scholar."

"Then—this chaotic world—"

He raised his wine toward heaven, earth, and humanity, and drank deeply:

"Golden cup, I drink with you; white blades, I show no mercy!"

Emperor Ji Zichang laughed loudly, then said: "Good!"

"Come on—a drunken mess. Let's go get the gift."

He rose, stumbling, and Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow, following casually. He no longer cared what this descendant of the Red Emperor could offer—yet after wandering aimlessly for a while, Ji Zichang led Li Guanyi with surprising familiarity, avoiding the increasingly tight guards.

Finally, they reached a solemn grove of pavilions, with towering steles ahead.

Li Guanyi's expression turned solemn. He recognized what it was. He stared at the drunken king stumbling ahead: "A memorial text? This is… the tomb complex of the thirty-three monarchs of the Red Emperor's eight-hundred-year dynasty."

Imperial tombs are divided into two levels: the lower level holds the burial chambers; the upper level contains structures.

This was the upper level. Ji Zichang tilted his head back and drank, then pulled a Bai Yu talisman from his robe. He unlocked the palace section atop the sealed tomb complex and walked forward step by step.

As he walked, he murmured softly:

"Beneath us lie the ancestral emperors of Zhongzhou."

"Above, we honor and worship them. Every year, grand ceremonies are held here—even the ancestors of Chen and Ying, after rebelling, came here humbly."

"Here, gold, silver, and artifacts are the least valuable things—they're piled up in this upper section."

Ji Zichang stopped before the Gongyang Suxiang of the Red Emperor. His drunkenness faded. He thought of the presence he'd seen that day—Chen Dingye, Jiang Wanxiang. Compared to such warlords and sovereigns, Ji Zichang realized he was no hero.

He was merely a weakling—in every way. Unskilled in letters, unskilled in arms. Had it not been for chance, he'd have been blinded by the aristocracy's illusions, never seeing the world's truth.

Ancestors, Red Emperor—your unworthy descendant comes before you.

In this time, when memories of past pain burned within him, a fierce, indescribable flame still blazed—wanting to overturn everything. At last, he made peace with himself.

He turned to Li Guanyi, voice gentle and steady, each word deliberate:

"The gold, silver, and artifacts here have accumulated over generations."

"Even with annual offerings, the stock remains vast. If sold, they'd fetch over thirty million taels—all clean, untainted. You may take them all. With this, Jiangnan's power can rise utterly."

Li Guanyi stared at Ji Zichang, his pupils contracting sharply.

Even he was shaken by the Emperor's actions.

A sudden wind surged. Great banners atop the tomb's palace flapped violently. Ji Zichang's black hair lifted. His sword rested on the ground, left hand gripping the hilt, right hand extended toward Li Guanyi.

Ji Zichang said calmly: "What are you looking at?"

"I am surely a king who lost his realm, the last monarch. In the annals, the Shi Guan will surely curse me—unless they curse me, how can they prove their talent, their loyalty? Future generations will surely slander me until my name oozes pus."

"But if I am a king who lost his realm!"

"Then how can I not fully reveal the crimes of a fallen monarch?!"

"Let me bear this infamous name. You take this wealth, recruit the scholars of the Imperial Academy, and Jiangnan shall rise. You, like our ancestors, rose from obscurity—I believe you can do better than Jiang Wanxiang, better than Chen Dingye."

Emperor Ji Zichang raised his hand, and the Bai Yu talisman fell into Li Guanyi's palm.

"I will surely be scolded by my ancestors, but allow this last sinner to do this—TianCe Supreme General, take these, and like the Red Emperor ancestor, pacify the world."

"But I have only one request."

Emperor Ji Zichang whispered:

"Do not harm my people."

The last monarch squinted, the fierce wind behind him whipping the eternal lamps; even now, he had not summoned the Crimson Dragon manifestation of the Red Emperor line—according to the imperial clan's doctrine of sovereign authority, he lacked the spirit of a true ruler.

According to the royal lineage's view, he had never earned the approval of the past Red Emperor kings.

He was unworthy to be a child of the Red Emperor.

Emperor Ji Zichang no longer cared about these things; he merely whispered, "I wanted to be a wandering knight, but then I realized, wandering knights cannot protect many. This act now might save two more lives—perhaps future generations will laugh at me as a fool, yet—"

"Let the last glow of the Red Emperors protect the people of this age once more!"

He stepped down slowly, the sword in his hand lightly tapping the ground, producing a crisp sound; Emperor Ji Zichang softly chanted:

"The great wind rises, clouds fly high."

"My might extends across the seas, I return to my homeland."

"How can I find brave warriors to guard the four corners?"

He raised his sword, just as the first Red Emperor had—like a fool, like a simpleton, tears streaming down his face, alone, he shouted loudly: "Wind!"

"Wind!"

"Great wind!!!"

?? Please vote for monthly tickets, friends~