Chapter 459: Where Does the King Come From?

The day before the enfeoffment ceremony.

Nan Hanwen walked through the lands of the eighteen prefectures of Jiangnan, a region that had endured countless wars, yet in barely four or five years, it had become almost unrecognizable.

Roads were wide, many new buildings had been erected—public schools, where passing by, one could hear the clear, youthful voices of children reciting texts; though the people's expressions varied, their overall demeanor was relaxed.

On the green stone slabs beside the river, children ran and played.

But such things were similar to those in Chen and Ying states.

Yet in subtle details, there were differences.

The people cared about state affairs.

They ate meat every ten days, meals were filling, taxes were low, commerce was highly developed, street layouts felt natural, and few encountered aristocratic youths dressed in brocade and silk, exuding arrogance.

Opposite the public schools stood the training grounds of the Motian Sect's martial halls.

These were the policies implemented over these years.

From age six, children began elementary studies, learning both literature and martial arts, literacy and arithmetic, and were sent to Motian Sect to study the Third Set of Qi Guidance Art from Tiance Prefecture; between ages six and fifteen, Tiance Prefecture provided basic meat rations, requiring only minimal tuition fees.

The expenditures were enormous.

Xingqi Powder was a fragmented manuscript left behind by a sorcerer named Hou Zhongyu.

It was said to be the lifelong aspiration of Hou Zhongyu's teacher, a gentle sorcerer who wished to spread breathing and health cultivation techniques across the land, so all people might live long lives—not so one man might achieve immortality.

Hou Zhongyu had killed his own master in his youth.

Yet for reasons unknown, he had always preserved his teacher's letters and legacy.

Even after death, it came into Li Guanyi's possession.

Later, it was refined by the military physicians of the Fire Qilin Army.

Though slightly pungent in taste, its medicinal power was sufficient—strong, filling, and adequate to stimulate the meridians, producing internal Qi after years of practice.

The silver and gold sustaining this widespread education came from the once-dominant aristocratic families of all Jiangnan; Master Nan Hanwen had thanked these dozens of families for their selfless contributions, sacrificing their own interests for the greater tide of the world.

He spoke with such emotion that tears fell.

Meanwhile, the various bureaus under Tiance Prefecture opened pathways to the entire realm.

They gradually abolished the previous recommendation system.

Each of these things made Nan Hanwen's heart race and his flesh tremble.

Can this even be done?!

How dare he? How could he?!

Not only did they abandon recommendations, they placed both literary and martial blades into the hands of the common people.

When viewing the Fire Qilin Army and Tiance Prefecture from afar in Chen state, one felt only their terrifying rise—how could such a fierce, unstoppable Fire Qilin child exist in the world? But only upon entering Tiance Prefecture's territory did one realize the world's heroes had vastly underestimated Qin Wang.

Here, the terror was systematic.

That Qin Wu Hou, who among the marquises was considered pathetically poor.

He built no palaces, avoided women, cared nothing for gold or silver.

All tax revenue went to the army, education, logistics—nothing stayed with him.

In these four or five years, Tiance Prefecture had built a complete, coherent system; those within it felt nothing unusual.

Across the realm, none could match it.

Precisely because Nan Hanwen had read poetry and classics since childhood and held many real posts in Chen's bureaucracy, he felt ever more alarmed—he had a sense that if Tiance Prefecture were allowed to rest and recover, only three years would be needed to balance Chen and Ying.

Within twenty years.

When this generation of young students, both literary and martial, came of age.

Chen and Ying would have no means of resistance left.

They would be swept utterly into the trash heap.

Even Nan Hanwen himself, in recent talks with Qin Wang, had discussed matters of the realm; Qin Wang spoke openly, revealing his entire philosophy from ancient times to the present, with no concealment—Nan Hanwen, as Chen's envoy, found himself secretly awed.

Qin Wang personally took his arm and toured the eighteen prefectures of Jiangnan.

He said: "Scholars speak of seeking universal harmony."

"But no one asks whose harmony."

"Is it the harmony of emperors and generals?"

On that day, hearing these words, Nan Hanwen's heart raced and his flesh trembled, and he said:

"Your Majesty, are you not the emperor and general?"

Qin Wang gazed at him and said: "My father was poor in youth, with no house, no land—I am the son of a farmer, wandering the realm for over a decade. Are emperors and generals ordained by heaven?"

Nan Hanwen, steeped in classics, broke into a sweat at this moment and said:

"This… this… has always been so since ancient times."

Qin Wang said: "Just because it has always been so, does that make it right?"

"Don't you wish to open a new precedent for the world?"

"Do you only wish to be a footnote in the annals of history, lost in millennia of cyclical repetition?"

Nan Hanwen's heart raced and his flesh trembled.

But that night, he could not sleep.

His heart raced and his flesh trembled, yet he felt some hidden thing stirred within him.

Later, he barely restrained himself from seeking out Qin Wang for conversation—he feared he might, in youthful fervor, blurt out everything, or even warn that Qin Wang.

He sighed: "Qin Wang, Qin Wang."

"This man's martial skill, insight, and even his character—all are terrifying."

"The younger generation must not meet him, or they will instantly pledge allegiance—he possesses a power of heart-mind cohesion like none other."

"He is almost demonic."

Nan Hanwen watched the teenage students walking along the road—they weren't like students from the Central State Academy, dressed in silk and carrying swords at their waists, but wore plain cloth robes, shouldered hoes, and discussed matters of the Academy with bright eyes.

A red ribbon was tied to their sleeves.

It seemed to be the Qin Wang's doing.

Two years ago, when the Qin Wang was still the Qin Wu Hou, he established public schools and issued this blood-red ribbon to every student, then, before children barely seven or eight years old, declared it was a corner of a banner dyed by the blood of the Fire Qilin soldiers who had expanded the realm.

At the time, officials and noble families of Chen State were ready to curse aloud.

Shit!

What kind of tradition is stuffed inside this Qin Wang's head?!

Never mind whether those were truly the blood of fallen warriors.

To hand over a banner dyed with the blood of fallen soldiers to youths—what kind of war-mad army is this?!

All of us embrace Confucianism?! Firmly engrave the shame and hatred in our hearts, and never, ever give up?!

He only imagined it—ten years, twenty years from now.

When these youths, raised since childhood with such convictions, grew into well-rounded young men of letters and martial skill.

What would the Tiance Prefecture become?

Nan Hanwen felt his scalp go numb; when he returned, he heard fifteen-year-old youths outside discussing, "How to determine the trajectory of an arrow to strike an enemy behind a wall three finger-widths from the three-hundred-zhang mark."

"During spring plowing, one hundred mu of land, fifteen men—maximum efficiency."

"The Agricultural School's analysis of cross-cultivation's effect on soil fertility."

And "New Interpretations of Lord Xue's Classic Military Campaigns."

Nan Hanwen thought of the noble youths and young men of Chen's Ducheng, loitering in brothel alleys, wild and unrestrained, and felt his vision darken—he almost wished he could just dash his head against a wall. When he returned, he asked his deputy, Xiao Shaohui:

"Has Your Majesty taken all the gifts meant for the Qin Wang?"

Xiao Shaohui replied: "He accepted all the gold, silver, treasures, beauties, and music."

Nan Hanwen exhaled in relief: "Good, good…"

Wiping sweat from his temples, he said: "Since ancient times, gold and riches dull the spirit of heroes; beauties and tender affection dissolve the backbone of valiant men. Great conquerors who lifted mountains and overshadowed the world have perished and brought shame to their nations; scholars of celestial literary talent have lost their dignity because of them."

"If we cannot dull the Qin Wang's fiery spirit,"

"our great Chen State's fate is in peril."

Yet, for some reason, a faint unease rose in his heart—he felt this act, though framed as loyalty and patriotism, was a betrayal: if the Qin Wang, who once spoke of heaven and future, unconstrained by factional loyalties, were to change because of this, it filled him with profound grief.

Had he not been an old minister of Chen, he truly might have wished to follow the Qin Wang.

Why, why did he have to meet this man only at this age?!

How could loyalty and righteousness be reconciled?

He asked carefully: "What's the situation?"

Xiao Shaohui said: "He accepted everything—and immediately agreed to our proposal to build a massive structure."

Nan Hanwen was stunned: "He agreed?"

Xiao Shaohui said: "Yes. And he wants it larger, more luxurious!"

Xiao Shaohui pondered Qin Wu Hou's request and said seriously, "Yes, he hopes the compound can accommodate more than five thousand people living and residing, with palaces, each able to hold two hundred people, and even the imperial kitchen must be able to serve thousands of diners at once."

Xiao Shaohui, recalling the Qin Wu Hou's demands, said seriously: "Yes. He wants it to accommodate over five thousand people living and working, with palaces each able to hold two hundred, and even the imperial kitchen must serve thousands simultaneously."

"He demands a vast training ground, large enough to hold over a thousand."

"And a tower resembling the Star-Touching Pavilion."

Master Nan Hanwen listened, stunned into silence for a long while, then said, "Regardless of anything, anything that can rob Qin Wu Hou of his grand ambitions must be aided—he even needs the most beautiful women in the world and the finest musicians, we must obtain them for him."

Nan Hanwen, stunned into silence for a long while, said: "Regardless, anything that drains the Qin Wu Hou's lofty ambition—we must help him. If he needs the most beautiful women in the realm, the finest musicians—we'll fetch them."

"Let him savor the taste of power. Let him drown in it, until he can never rise again, slowly eroding his heroic spirit, bit by bit."

Nan Hanwen regained his composure, forcibly suppressing his complex feelings toward the Qin Wang.

He had once been a trusted aide of Chancellor Dan Tai Xianming.

After Dan Tai Xianming died, he quietly submitted to Chen Dingye's command. Now, what he was doing was repeating what Dan Tai Xianming had done to Chen Dingye—not through schemes, but by catering to human desires.

Human desires only climb higher and farther.

Once Li Guanyi has felt the thrill of wielding power, of unrestrained freedom,

he will become addicted, lose control, and inevitably change—step by step—into another man. Throughout history, heroes who were once bold before achieving greatness have all become this way, slowly turning into their former enemies.

Chen Dingye was like this.

He believed the Qin Wang would be the same.

"All heroes under heaven have desires. What is your desire?"

"Beauties, Wu Gong, Shanhe, power—none can escape…"

The feeling of ten thousand, of millions, kneeling before a single person, venerating him, the sensation of becoming above all others, of holding all power—even as an onlooker—evokes the thought, "This is how a true man ought to be."

"The feeling of thousands, millions kneeling before one man, venerating him, the sensation of becoming above all others, of holding everything—it even stirs awe in mere observers. 'A true man should be like this!'"

"When you feel it yourself, you will be lost in it. Once you open that door, you will never regain control."

But if you control it—

Nan Hanwen suppressed the thought and turned to Xiao Shaohui: "How prepared are we?"

Xiao Shaohui replied: "Fully prepared."

Both the Ying and Chen states had sent many ritual officials; even the Central State dispatched numerous Ministry of Rites officers to assist the Tiance Prefecture in preparing the enfeoffment ceremony. The students were delighted, as were high-born officials and military officers who had earned merit on the battlefield.

All heroes under heaven, emperors and generals past and future, after achieving merit, must proclaim their majesty, establish ritual propriety, define hierarchy and rank.

Through ritual, restrain the people; through system, restrain the masses.

Such as the colors of clothing, whether one may ride in a carriage, study, or qualify for examinations.

Layer upon layer, distinctions of rank are drawn.

Li Guanyi's forces gathered countless students from the Central State Academy, who revived the rites of eight hundred years ago with great enthusiasm; for Confucian scholars, personally compiling a code of rites was a way to earn lasting fame in history.

On the day of the enfeoffment ceremony, arrangements had been made well in advance; the common people were eager and curious, the scholars solemn, music and ritual sounds serene, and from the outset, everything followed the standards and rituals of the Red Emperor from eight hundred years ago.

The enfeoffment ceremony would last more than ten days.

But when the civil and military officials, the Chen and Ying states' envoys arrived, they saw no Qin Wang clad in the imperial python robe with a jade belt; officials from various states' Ministry of Rites, along with Huangzu Sect members from Central State bearing the imperial seal, were all puzzled.

"Where is Qin Wang? Where is Qin Wang Your Majesty?!"

"At such a crucial moment."

"Where is he?!"

…………………

Sun Laosan leaned on his hoe, sat on a rock, basking in the winter sun, his body languid; in winter, he still had to clear the ridges and return crop stalks to the soil so next year's crops would grow better.

Sun Laosan had lived a hard life; in his youth, he fought in endless wars, never knowing where his next meal would come from, and was even conscripted into service; now things were better—he was a lonely old man, yet had been allotted land, and the Fire Qilin Army gave him grain every three months.

He lived far more comfortably than in his youth.

In his satchel beside him lay a piece of dried meat, a coarse bread, and some pickled vegetables; when he ate, he stuffed the dried meat inside the bread, added the sour, crisp pickled radish, took a satisfying bite, and felt utterly content.

Though he had twisted his ankle today, a kind soul had helped him clear the ridges; he looked over at a young man in black clothes, thinking the lad was strong and efficient in repairing the ridges, and said:

"Young sir, you've worked so long—there's some tea here, want some to rest a bit?"

The young man stood up and said: "Alright, let me finish this section first."

He swiftly finished the work, then walked over; Sun Laosan handed him tea and a clay bowl, the young man drank it all down and said: "This won't delay next year's spring plowing."

Sun Laosan chuckled: "No delay, no delay."

"Good land like this wasn't ours in the old days; just a little cultivation here, and next year's harvest will be bountiful. In my youth, tch—those one and a half mu of land couldn't match a fraction of this."

"I'm just an old man; growing a little is enough."

The young man suited him well; Sun Laosan chatted on: "This meat, tch—I couldn't even taste it in my youth, only rotten scraps. This New Year, I'm buying five full jin of meat."

Sun Laosan beamed: "Hey, I want fatty meat, not those skinny bits—make it into roasted pork, render out the oil, use it daily, and at New Year's, stuff it into coarse bread—bite into it, yum, delicious!"

"Also make some meatballs, store them in black clay bowls in the storage."

"Enough to last the entire first lunar month."

"Add a small flask of wine—perfect, absolutely perfect."

Sun Laosan rubbed his lips, lost in thought, and said:

"The last time I ate this much meat at New Year's was back in my youth—I had strength then, worked as a hired laborer, could rise early to feed horses, plow fields, cut pigweed, and stand night watch—I was a fine young man."

"Later, when I grew old, I tried to avoid conscription and broke my leg, then got thrown out—what a pity, but no war is better!"

He sighed: "Without war, I'd still be a fine young man."

"I could work from dawn till dusk, full of energy!"

"I could eat a lot, do a lot of work, and the masters all valued me."

"When you come, I'll let you taste my cooking."

The young man listened quietly, then smiled: "Alright."

From afar came the sound of ritual music; Sun Laosan couldn't help but yearn, gripping his hoe with his large hand, stretching his neck: "Qin Wang Your Majesty is about to ascend—alas, we mud-footed peasants can't go!"

The young man said: "Why not?"

He sat cross-legged, munching on the coarse bread Sun Laosan gave him, relaxed, even took Sun Laosan's green onion and ate it with the white part—clearly a connoisseur; Sun Laosan said:

"Kid, how could people like us ever meet Qin Wang Your Majesty?"

He slapped his thigh, opened his mouth, thought long, then finally blurted out:

"He's… he's the true Son of Heaven."

"A god descended from heaven."

"You think he's like you and me, eating coarse bread with green onions?!"

The young man rolled his eyes and muttered: "Maybe he eats charred buns too."

Sun Laosan was astonished: "What kind of taste is that?"

"Do burnt things taste good?"

The young man suddenly burst into laughter.

He laughed heartily.

Then—bang! —the young man seemed struck on the head by something, but Sun Laosan doubted his eyes—he saw nothing at all; the young man rubbed his head and said seriously: "Charred buns really are delicious!"

"Number one in the world!"

"Unbeatable!"

Sun Laosan frowned suspiciously: "Really that good? Hey, you must think Qin Wang Your Majesty uses golden hoes for farming—that's what you imagine, right? How could Qin Wang eat what we eat?!"

"You've never seen him—it's only the great ones who can meet Qin Wang."

"This can't be spoken lightly."

The young man chewed his coarse bread: "I don't see why it can't be spoken lightly—better to be bold."

"People should all be the same."

Sun Laosan grew agitated: "Hey, you kid, how can you talk like that?"

"How could people be the same?"

"They're above us—the ones who tower over us."

The young man bit into the green onion, propped his chin on his hand; Sun Laosan felt the young man had accepted his view, and squinted: "I don't want much—I just want to eat meat a few times each festival."

"Juicy, glistening meat on top of rice—that flavor."

"If Qin Wang lets me eat meat, he's the finest man."

"If next year's weather is good and the harvest is bountiful, I'll save some grain—I won't starve when I'm too old to farm—I'll eat half, save half, buy more meat, hang it on a string inside the window—that's the taste of festival."

"On that window side, there's meat hanging, dried chili peppers, big sacks of grain inside the house, and a dog kept too."

Sun Laosan yearned for it.

The young man said softly: "It will come."

Sun Laosan rubbed his mouth, his eyes brightening: "If it were like that, I truly hope I could live a few more years." The young man nodded, finished eating his coarse bread, and left three copper coins. Old Sun stubbornly refused to take them.

He even shoved the coarse bread back into the young man's arms, urging him to eat it.

The young man agreed, and after a while he took his leave, slowly walking toward the Enthronement Ceremony for the King. Unseen by the naked eye, the silver-haired girl followed him quietly, poking his back with her finger.

Li Guanyi muttered: "The coarse bread is tasty."

"The meat is tastier."

The silver-haired girl looked at the Qin Wang, famed throughout the land; he seemed lost in thought, then finally said: "After consecutive victories, everyone grows restless."

"We must cleanse the restlessness from the Fire Qilin Army and the Tiance Prefecture."

"When I was young, I said: 'To establish the heart of heaven and earth.'"

"Though I had no right to establish the heart of heaven and earth, now I must do it."

Xiao Shaohui and Nan Hanwen stood among the many officials, seeing that the Qin Wang was absent; many civil officials and those from noble families were agitated, but Yan Daiqing and Master Wen Qingyu of the Tiance Prefecture remained calm.

The Ministry of Rites officials from Zhongzhou, Chen State, and Ying State all asked where the Qin Wang was.

Some scholars and soldiers, influenced by the tension, also grew uneasy.

Yan Daiqing and Master Wen Qingyu merely soothed them; amid the crowd's uncertainty, the elderly Ministry of Rites official from Zhongzhou, a great Confucian scholar, was indignant, and the soldiers of the Fire Qilin Army were surprised—but they felt nothing was amiss.

They still held boundless respect for their commander.

At that moment, a voice suddenly rang out: "The Qin Wang arrives!!!"

It seemed to shatter something rigid, something dead.

The crowd stepped out onto the raised platform built by the city lord's mansion, dressed in splendid robes and battle armor, scanning everywhere—until they finally saw the Qin Wang approaching, clad in dark robes, hair bound with a wooden pin, walking calmly as if from the marketplace.

Officials and ministers stood above.

Those who had planned to corrupt the Qin Wang with power now saw the King walking from among the common folk.

A compelling aura subtly stirred.

Within the Nine Tripods, a trace of something unlike before.

Slowly gathering.

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