Chapter 471: The Nobles, the Petty Clowns

In the imperial capital of Zhongzhou, all remained as peaceful as ever.

Or rather, it was even more peaceful than before, for in the past three years, the chaos across the land had seen mighty warlords tear off their masks and fight endlessly, leaving no room to send tribute to Zhongzhou.

Now, however, the wolves and tigers of the realm had all gone into hiding, and these lords began to stir, stretching their limbs and sinews, doing what great men ought to do.

Zhongzhou grew busy once more, merchant guilds thrived, and people came and went in constant motion.

Princess Ji Zichang of Zhongzhou had given birth to a daughter, and the assembled nobles planned a grand celebration for her, to inaugurate a new 【Golden Age】—yet Ji Zichang was not pleased.

He held the arm of Consort Wen, staring at the lavish gold-embossed invitations and lists of gifts on his desk, his expression gloomy, thinking of his son who had lived seven years and one hundred thirty-two days, and of his daughters.

Three years ago, he told Li Guanyi he had several daughters—there were two.

In just these few years, his eldest daughter, betrothed, had drowned; his second daughter had grown weak from illness, and the Dao Sect, in its mercy, came personally to visit, yet said nothing outright, only that she did not belong in the imperial household, and guided her into monastic life.

All these events occurred three years ago, when Qin Wu Hou rose up, then departed for the Western Regions, and Ji Zichang attempted to leverage that momentum to gradually reclaim imperial authority.

In such a turbulent age, the daughters of the imperial house, the nobility of the world, were as fragile as leaves in a storm; the pieces on the table weighed upon Ji Zichang until his pain became unbearable—he sought revenge, uncovered the truth, then swung his blade and slew the killers, sentencing them to death by a thousand cuts.

But killing one person, a group of people.

Blood dripped down, spreading across the earth.

The ministers and officials bowed their heads in silence, all utterly still.

Yet he looked down at those countless people—even some related to him by blood.

They bowed beneath the palace, their eyes holding a deep, wolf-like gleam.

Their ancestors had once risen in rebellion under crushing oppression, fighting in the chaos for the sake of the people—how, after centuries, had they become this?

Was this the end of the imperial dynasty?

In this game of power, Ji Zichang felt himself trapped in a quagmire, every gesture bound by countless threads; not only was he without freedom, but even the slightest movement would trigger a counterstrike from every surrounding force.

Consort Wen watched him with concern and whispered:

"They say they come to celebrate the child's birth…"

The child had been born for several months now, and the many princes, nobles, ministers, and marquises wished to offer their congratulations; Ji Zichang remained silent for a long while, the tide of power overwhelming him until he could not refuse—he clasped Consort Wen's hand and said softly, "I will protect the child…"

Consort Wen merely gently gripped his hand.

Ji Zichang and Consort Wen went to see their child; the infant was no longer the wrinkled, newborn appearance, but had grown quite adorable.

Ji Zichang gently, carefully touched his daughter's cheek with his fingertip.

Even a sovereign, at this moment, was nothing more than a father worried for his child—Ji Zichang's heart, hardened by years of battling demons and monsters of this dying dynasty, softened.

In this instant, he felt he would give everything for his daughter, and thinking of his previous children, a fine, uncontainable pain pierced his heart, spreading out in delicate, endless waves.

The next day, the Emperor departed for the imperial villa, taking Consort Wen and the Princess with him; Ji Zichang bore a divine weapon of the Chi Emperor dynasty, never leaving their side, the Imperial Guard surrounding them tightly.

Ministers and officials all came to offer gifts, filling many storehouses with presents celebrating the Princess's birth; the court was harmonious, music and dance flourished, evoking a dreamlike sense of peace and prosperity.

The sound of lutes, the dances, the scent of wine—entrancing beyond measure.

When the banquet was laid out, suddenly one marquis rose, and after speaking with perfect propriety, he smiled and raised his cup: "Now that the realm is finally at peace and the Princess has been born, this is truly an auspicious omen."

"I, too, have a grandson, just two years old—exquisitely delicate, hahaha—might there be a chance, perhaps, for him to form a noble alliance with the Princess of the Chi Emperor line?"

Ji Zichang, mid-sip, froze, his eyebrows lowering slightly.

Consort Wen's hand clenched tightly within her sleeve.

Another man slammed his cup onto the table and rose in fury: "How dare you! What nonsense! Your grandson is coarse and ugly—your daughter-in-law gave him not a shred of grace, and your son's face? You've copied it perfectly!"

"He dares to aspire to marry a Princess of the Chi Emperor line?!"

The old man who had spoken first trembled with rage: "You—you!"

"Barbarian! Vulgar!!"

The old man ignored him, turning instead to bow respectfully: "Your Majesty, my grandson is now five, can read and recite poetry, wields a sword, and has mastered three-tenths of the Chi Emperor Sword Art."

Ji Zichang said coolly: "Lord Mengyun, your family has already married a daughter of my Ji clan."

Lord Mengyun laughed heartily: "Isn't that even better—kin upon kin!"

"Rest assured, Your Majesty, I've already calculated it."

"We are beyond the fifth degree of kinship—no violation of taboo."

Ji Zichang's grip tightened on his sword, his eyes filled with a swirling fury as he slowly lowered them, hand resting on his hilt—"Already calculated"? Did that mean, from the moment this daughter was born, these so-called nobles had already set their sights on her?

In the golden age of the empire, marrying a Princess was a thankless burden—but now, the Chi Emperor line's authority had waned; though Ji Zichang had rallied, reclaimed some power from the imperial clan,

he was the most courageous and powerful Chi Emperor in three centuries.

Yet the accumulated ills and tides of three hundred years of chaos had become a current too vast for one man to turn—once, a powerful minister had laughed, saying even the first Chi Emperor could not change it.

Even the boldest of men could only leave, and forge a new dynasty elsewhere.

A sliver of malice flickered in Ji Zichang's eyes.

The faces of his dead children flashed before him.

At this moment, fatherhood eclipsed the Emperor's dignity and the weight of fate—he knew the Chi Emperor line had become a doomed vessel, and he would not let his last remaining daughter become another pawn in this rotting game.

Ji Zichang gripped his sword; Consort Wen pressed her hand against his sleeve; Lord Mengyun looked at them and laughed:

"Your Majesty, shall we test my swordsmanship?!"

"A sword is not wielded like this—it must be bold!" He suddenly seized a guard's sword, drew it with a sharp ring, its blade cold and deadly, swung it once, then sheathed it—when suddenly, a clamor erupted outside.

Ji Zichang blinked, raising his gaze; Ji Yanzhong said: "What is this…?"

"Hooves?!"

An Imperial Guard burst in, voice frantic: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

"Qin Wu Hou, no—"

The guard knelt on one knee, bowing deeply:

"The Qin Wang has arrived."

The atmosphere shifted instantly; the sound of hooves exploded like a tidal wave—the imperial garden, built at the peak of the Chi Emperor line's glory, was vast as a small city; even now, before the riders arrived, the martial aura of warhorse hooves surged forth like thunder.

The bowstring's crack split the air!

Meng Yunbo's face changed; he drew his sword.

Block it!

This superior dark weapon trembled violently once, then shattered.

The blade spun as it fell to the side.

The arrow skimmed past the broken sword, pierced Meng Yunbo's body, punched through his soft armor, pierced the sevenfold Zhongtianda Sect master's physique, and exited his back—his elemental form gathered to roar, only to be pinned through as well!

Meng Yunbo's body flew backward and slammed hard against the Nine Dragon Wall.

He was nailed there by a single arrow!

Still not dead, still howling in agony, blood streaming, his former boldness gone—everyone fell silent. And in this moment, as if by coincidence, or as if deliberately controlled, a steed burst forth from the dust.

Ink-black sleeves flared, jade hairpin holding his hair.

Qin Wang held a dark-gold warbow in his hand.

Behind him, a hundred horsemen stirred clouds of smoke.

To his left and right were Yue Pengwu, Dou Hao, and Shan Xiong—all heroes of their age. Niu Wei and others trembled with tension—just days ago, they had ridden through the armies of Ying State, their courage swelling; now they had come directly to the Red Emperor's Imperial Palace.

Damn it.

This Qin Wang Prince is too—

Too exhilarating!

When they first arrived here, Niu Wei and these rough heroes had felt uneasy, even out of place—this was a realm of nobles and royalty, not for them. They felt awkward, uncomfortable.

Niu Wei scratched his head and said, "It's not that we're scared, right?"

"It's just that we're like this…"

He lowered his head, glancing at his clothes. Everyone looked at their own—mostly tattered rags worn for who knew how long, stained with blood and worse. They felt a flicker of shame.

"Bah, showing up like this, we're bound to look like fools."

"We're men of the Jianghu, living by the blade, braving wind and rain. We don't care how rough we look—but coming here, won't we embarrass Qin Wang?"

"What if they look down on us?"

Li Guanyi merely said, "Don't think like that."

"Those lords in crimson and purple—"

"Are not as clean as you."

"As for looking down—"

Qin Wang smiled, calmly saying, "You stand behind me. Across this vast world, no one dares look down on you."

At this moment, these hundred horsemen rode in, having crossed thousands of miles with Marshal Yue, then followed Qin Wang through countless armies. Never mind anything else—their aura blazed like a rainbow; they were determined not to bring shame upon Qin Wang.

Amid Meng Yunbo's howls, the hundred horsemen halted, dismounted in unison.

Qin Wang's sleeves flared as he strode forward, laughing loudly, "I heard the Princess was born—I rushed here at once. I'm not late, am I?"

Consort Wen sighed in relief. Ji Zichang gazed at Li Guanyi, now grown into a young man, and after a long moment, smiled faintly, "You've come just in time—the wine is still warm."

Li Guanyi walked forward with a smile, climbed the high dais, sleeves swirling. The heroes and nobles on either side turned pale, daring not to look at this fearsome Qin Wang Prince. Qin Wang reached the child's side, greeted Ji Yanzhong first, then looked at the child.

Such a small child should not be outside.

But Ji Zichang dared not let the child leave his side.

Now, with Ji Yanzhong's grandmaster aura flowing to shield the child, Li Guanyi gently reached out. The child still had her eyes closed, yet showed no fear—she even reached out her hand.

Her plump little palm opened, gripping Li Guanyi's finger—so tiny, so fragile, her hand barely managed to enclose his finger in her palm.

At the Ninefold Zhongtianda Sect master's level, he could feel the child's heartbeat through her palm—the fresh, fragile breath of life, pure and beautiful, bringing a faint smile to Li Guanyi's face.

"Good child."

Li Guanyi said, then reached into his robe and withdrew an object—a small longevity lock. Qin Wang, facing away from the Red Emperor's line of nobles, said, "This longevity lock I forged myself—I give it to this child."

"May this child live a hundred years."

Ji Zichang froze. As Qin Wang spoke of "a hundred years," his gaze swept toward the ministers—sharp as a blade. When Ji Zichang's son died, the longevity lock had shattered—once specially requested from the Daoist Palace Master.

Now, Qin Wang himself had brought a longevity lock he forged.

The meaning lay hidden—but every minister understood it.

If this longevity lock breaks again—

This awe-inspiring Qin Wang will not mind making the 【longevity locks】 of these nobles break once more.

Gentlemen, be careful.

Qin Wang's gaze swept over them; the faces of these clans and Wang Hou stiffened, became Solemn. Where Qin Wang's sword pointed, they could not dare use any old court intrigues—nor could they risk some fool acting recklessly.

Even if the Princess stumbled or fell, they must be careful.

Qin Wang—how tyrannical!

Intrigue? Diplomacy? Court rules?!

Ha!

Beneath Qin's blade, they were all jokes.

Li Guanyi said, "Gentlemen, such a fine day—why aren't you smiling? Are you dissatisfied with my gift?"

The ministers and officials forced smiles.

Qin Wang laughed loudly, sweeping his hand toward the rough heroes, "These warriors are Emotionally Weighted and true to their word—they crossed thousands of armies to come here with me. I had no fine wine to offer them, so I've come here to drink yours!"

Ji Zichang laughed, "Bring them the finest seats! Fetch the best wine!"

"Invite these heroes to drink together!"

Niu Wei and the others sat down dazedly—never had they known such joy. How could the coarse liquor of the Jianghu compare to the fine wine of the Central State's Red Emperor? And this treatment, this equal invitation—more intoxicating than the richest vintage.

After drinking, the noble pinned to the wall was taken down for life-saving treatment—even removing him required asking Qin Wang and the Red Emperor's permission.

With all matters settled, Li Guanyi walked alongside Emperor Ji Zichang, recounting their experiences over this period; the New Year had arrived, and Li Guanyi was now nineteen, the fifteenth year of Tianqi.

From autumn of Tianqi eleven to spring of Tianqi fifteen.

Three and a half years had passed.

Emperor Ji Zichang had moved from his early thirties to nearly forty, while Li Guanyi had transformed from the spirited youth of those days into the young man he was now; they drank cup after cup, and Ji Zichang wished to thank him, to say that at the very end, Li Guanyi had still preserved the dignity of the Red Emperor's lineage.

Li Guanyi stated his purpose clearly: "As long as I live, no one will dare lay a hand on that child again; the incident with the previous child's longevity lock shattering will not happen again."

"All these high officials are clever men."

"They know this longevity lock is not merely the child's longevity lock."

"It is also their own longevity lock."

"They naturally know what to do."

Li Guanyi's expression was calm; having roamed the realm for years, he had finally cultivated the bearing of a sovereign—yet beside him, the child, small and awake, climbed onto Li Guanyi's knees and grasped the Qin Wang's civil and military sleeves.

Perhaps it was the child's early protective phase.

She had actually climbed up the Qin Wang's robe!

Then she sat on Li Guanyi's shoulder, gripping the Qin Wang's black temple hair and babbling something, while also reaching out to seize the Qin Wang's cheek; Li Guanyi paid it no mind.

But if any of those high officials outside saw this, their hearts would likely stop beating.

Li Guanyi carefully protected the child from falling, murmuring vaguely: "Also, I must go to one other place. I've heard that after the Red Emperor defeated the Bai Hu Da Zong's overlord, he built a palace atop the overlord's secret treasure vault."

"Because he could not break the Bai Hu Da Zong's seal, he added another lock and another layer of sealing atop it."

Emperor Ji Zichang said: "I've heard of this."

"You plan to…"

Li Guanyi held the little Princess and smiled lightly: "Yes, the world is vast, and across the four directions, there will surely be another great war within five years; the northern steppes still have the Turkic Khan watching with hungry eyes."

"He is the sort who never hides his ambitions."

"And his lifespan is nearly spent."

Li Guanyi's expression was solemn: "A supreme divine general, at the ninth tier of Heaven, even on the brink of legendary realm, and ruler of the steppe Turkic people—such status, such power and backing, crouching in the north, overlooking the Central Plains."

"The Turkic Emperor nearing the end of his life, commanding the empire's foremost heavy cavalry: Tie Futu."

"Merely this description is enough to confirm that a great war is not far off."

Emperor Ji Zichang murmured: "The Turkic Emperor nearing the end of his life…"

He raised his cup and smiled faintly: "But it doesn't matter—if you need anything, I can prepare it all…" After a pause, Ji Zichang said seriously: "Need money?"

Li Guanyi said: "You still have some?"

Emperor Ji Zichang laughed in exasperation: "You think I'm you!"

"No overlord in the realm is as poor as you!"

The Qin Wang's heart clenched.

When did this man's mouth become so sharp?

Emperor Ji Zichang's brow relaxed, pointing at the little Princess who used Li Guanyi as a climbing frame: "Regardless, this child's birthday brought in a great, great deal of money."

Li Guanyi hesitated, then declared solemnly: "Regardless!"

"Am I going to take a child's birthday gift?!"

Emperor Ji Zichang said: "One million seven hundred thousand taels of silver."

The Qin Wang's face remained unchanged: "But then again…"

Emperor Ji Zichang burst into loud laughter, his brow radiant.

"Good Qin Wang!!!"

He sounded drunk: "But it's laughable, laughable—this over a million taels of silver, to you, has what great use? Yet these high officials, who have sunk so low, still managed to produce such vast sums."

"Heh, I don't know whether they value my child too much…"

"Or whether these high officials simply have too much wealth!"

Emperor Ji Zichang tapped his chopsticks against his wine cup and shouted:

"Fat rat, fat rat, don't eat my millet! Three years I've fed you, yet you show me no care. I vow to leave you, go to that happy land. Happy land, happy land, there I find my place."

"Fat rat, fat rat, don't eat my wheat! Three years I've fed you, yet you show me no grace. I vow to leave you, go to that happy state. Happy state, happy state, there I find my due."

"Fat rat, fat rat, don't eat my seedlings! Three years I've fed you, yet you show me no labor. I vow to leave you, go to that happy border. Happy border, happy border, who will cry forever?"

Emperor Ji Zichang recited this ancient passage from the Book of Songs several times: "In the past, I never understood why the First Master placed this piece, 'Fat Rat,' among the three hundred ancient poems. As a youth, I thought it made no sense—how could a poem about rats be the climax of the 'Wei Wind'?"

"Now, I finally understand."

Emperor Ji Zichang raised his finger and pointed to the sky:

"These high officials—fat rats, one and all!"

"Only now do I grasp the sage's subtle, profound meaning…"

Li Guanyi said: "Don't worry—someday, I can send these people to Master Wen Qingyu."

Emperor Ji Zichang had forgotten the young strategist who had proposed that brutal plan; only after Li Guanyi reminded him did he recall—and then remembered the strategist's plan—

"All martial artists are present; why not unleash a world-class poison, advance with armored troops, and sweep the martial world into oblivion—trample the martial world flat."

"Thus, the martial world's power will be severely crippled, and the realm will be far more stable than before. Martial artists, relying on their Wu Gong, break the law; the state's laws regard murder as the gravest evil, yet in the martial world, heroes are revered, and the people honor them."

"These men gain the world's fame yet defy the sovereign's laws; if so, the sovereign's decrees lose authority, the state's dignity vanishes—kill the martial world to restore order to the realm."

Back then, it had seemed cruel and chilling.

But now, as Ji Zichang looked at this plan again, he suddenly realized: what had then seemed cruel and ruthless was, in hindsight, nearly the best choice—

Kill a chicken to warn the monkeys, slay martial figures; according to Wen He's plan, kill some, absorb others, establish the sovereign's authority, and gain a true blade of his own.

Emperor Ji Zichang stared blankly for a long while, murmuring: "Could he have seen today's situation three or four years ago? That plan, which then seemed cruel, was already the best option—if not, we'd have been boiled slowly alive, with only death ahead."

"What extraordinary talent!"

Emperor Ji Zichang drank with melancholy and said: "But even such great talent, faced with this situation, faced with those high officials, what use is it?"

Li Guanyi thought for a moment and said: "This person has another name."

Emperor Ji Zichang asked: "What?"

Li Guanyi said: "Yan Daiqing of the Northwest!"

The reigning Red Emperor drew in a sharp breath and bowed respectfully: "Yan Daiqing!"

"My apologies, my apologies."

Li Guanyi: "…………"

He could only hope inwardly that Yan Daiqing was not present, for if he were, the furious gentlemen of Jiangnan might not swing their civil official's iron fist at Emperor Ji Zichang—but they would certainly suppress that anger and instead beat Mr. Master Wen He.

Though they did that anyway on ordinary days.

Li Guanyi and Emperor Ji Zichang drank and chatted about the world; after three rounds of wine, Emperor Ji Zichang suddenly said: "Do you know why they value this child so highly?"

Li Guanyi was just peeling the little girl, who was especially affectionate toward him, off his body, and upon hearing this, asked: "What?"

Emperor Ji Zichang whispered: "Because this child is the last remaining descendant of mine still listed in the imperial clan registry—the sole surviving heir of the Red Emperor's line, and thus uniquely different."

Li Guanyi said: "Indeed."

He took the little girl off his body.

Holding her by her clothes, the little girl walked through empty air.

Li Guanyi grinned and threatened the infant princess, who was barely one year old even by reckoning: "If you pee, I'll beat you."

The little princess: "Yiyaya!!!!!!"

Emperor Ji Zichang watched this scene, then suddenly smiled and said:

"How about."

"You become her adoptive father?"

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