[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-peace-decree":3,"chapter-the-peace-decree-the-peace-decree-chapter-539":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Peace Decree",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2328714,4553,"Chapter 539: Reputation and Transformation","the-peace-decree-chapter-539",539,"\u003Cp>Ji Yanzhong’s resolve shocked everyone in the Ying Emperor’s central camp, especially the aristocratic families dragged along—they knew Ji Yanzhong was famed for his kindness; how could such a benevolent elder suddenly erupt with such finality?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A young man from one of the aristocratic families twisted his face in anguish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed suddenly, removed his hairpin, and said: “Of the Red Emperor’s line, our families have long feasted on his grace; our titles, offices, and honors have never been lacking. Now the state is collapsing—how can we cling to our own skins?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without caring for the horrified expressions of his own clan elders, he spoke on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hair disheveled, he leapt from the cliff to his death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another twenty or so youths followed, leaping to their deaths.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The grim atmosphere moved even the Ying soldiers gripping spears and blades; He Ruo Qinhu knew men were not simply good or evil, firm or weak. The Ninth Heaven’s divine general, with eyes that saw leagues distant, saw the corpses floating in the blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He saw the princess dressed as a little girl, and Ji Yanzhong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At He Ruo Qinhu’s realm, one glance revealed them to be nothing but straw dummies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet seeing his sovereign thus, he fell silent for a long while.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The identity of [Red Emperor’s Daughter] was already dead—publicly, before all eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly someone whispered: “The princess still lives—she still lives—perhaps she can be saved…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Bring her into the palace—it would be legitimate…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He Ruo Qinhu removed his bow, drew the string. The Xuanbing-grade warbow sang—a pure torrent of Qi coalesced into an arrow. A true divine general: one bow, one shot. The arrow pierced miles, shattering Ji Yanzhong and the girl’s “corpses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blood of the Red Emperor stained the river.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beneath the divine general’s aura, the straw vanished instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ji Yanzhong’s and “Ji Ning’er’s” “blood” mingled, swept away by the river’s torrent. He Ruo Qinhu’s gaze remained calm, neither sorrowful nor joyful—yet beneath this tide of fate, none had any choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, even if later masters of concealment and search arrived, they would find nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Complete death, too, is a gentle mercy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let me see you off one last time, Ji Yanzhong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The murmurs of the aristocrats and the thoughts of the Ying army officers froze instantly. Only the river surged, only the wind howled with a grim and deadly chill, and only the waves He Ruo Qinhu had blocked continued crashing against the banks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Red Emperor’s house, born eight hundred years ago—truly tragic.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He Ruo Qinhu lowered his bow, knelt halfway, and said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Majesty, Ji Yanzhong and Ji Ning’er have taken their own lives.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I feared they might not die—I have executed them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor looked at the old general, removed his battle robe, and said: “Reward him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He Ruo Qinhu replied: “Thank Your Majesty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rose, accepted the Ying Emperor’s battle robe with both hands. The Emperor watched the river in silence, then withdrew his gaze, stepping slowly back to his camp. Blood soaked the ground beneath his feet—he did not look back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Historical records state: He Ruo Qinhu was cruel—he personally slew the Red Emperor’s bloodline. After Ji Yanzhong and Princess Changle leapt to their deaths, he still pierced their bodies with heavy bow and arrow, desecrating them. This solemn divine general’s name gained much infamy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor walked his path with composure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He made no effort to suppress the news—he recorded the affairs of Ji Zichang, Wen Wan’er, Ji Yanzhong, and others in the annals, letting them spread across the land. He never imprisoned the scholars who wrote biographies of Ji Zichang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He even personally read these biographies, then summoned the young author and said: “You didn’t write enough. How can poetry and verse capture such a man’s fierce, unyielding spirit?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor, whose reputation was mixed, chuckled softly, gazing at the yellowed pages by candlelight: “You should write of Ji Zichang’s fear, Ji Zichang’s longing, Ji Zichang’s resolve—and finally, his fire.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Red Emperor’s name is Ji Zichang—but Ji Zichang should not be the Red Emperor. He tore his final chains apart. After he died, you scholars kneel and offer him back his title.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He doesn’t deserve this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’ve turned him into a rigid, heroic monarch.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What difference is there between him and the statues on this thousand-year scroll?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor calmly placed the manuscript over the candle flame, letting the fire devour the words. The flames lit his eyes: “How could I be outmaneuvered by such a rigid, statue-like man?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Rewrite it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man gathered courage: “Your Majesty, aren’t you afraid the world will call you a traitor?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aged monarch laughed loudly: “I once heard a saying: Are kings, marquises, generals, and ministers born of a special bloodline? If one has such spirit, why cling to the previous dynasty as the sole legitimate line? Must kingship forever belong to them alone?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Traitor?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor smiled faintly: “Are kings, marquises, generals, and ministers born of a special bloodline?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can there be a more legitimate way to seize the realm than overthrowing the old dynasty?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>………………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ji Zichang’s upheaval, the Red Emperor’s line’s transformation, surged like a great wind across the waves. Before, the news from Zhongzhou had been suppressed by the Ying Emperor and the two divine generals—no one dared, nor could anyone, spread it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ying Emperor departed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The news spread across the land at astonishing speed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When it reached Jiangnan, it coincided precisely with the Qin Prince’s edict ordering a posthumous title for Ji Zichang. The Tiance Prefecture fell silent. Qu Hanxiu, the eminent scholar of the Zhongzhou faction in the Ministry of Rites, also remained quiet for a long while.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he calmly completed the task.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen felt some concern for the old man. Though the old fellow appeared dignified, he had hidden schemes and often stole meals from him—but he still possessed three parts of integrity and spirit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He brought gifts to visit Qu Hanxiu’s residence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knocked for a long time, but the old man gave no reply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen’s heart felt heavy as a stone—he raised his foot to kick the door. Just as he was about to kick, the door opened. Inside stood a small page boy—though Qu Hanxiu was so poor he often came to beg meals, he still clung to many formalities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For example, the quality of his writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For example, the cut of his robes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For example, how could a great Confucian scholar lack a page boy?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen breathed a little easier: “Where is Master Qu?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The page boy replied: “Master Qu went to eat—duck blood vermicelli soup.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen exhaled, laughed bitterly: “Old devil, still has a good appetite—worried me for nothing.” He reached to retrieve the gifts he’d set down, intending to take them back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As above, so below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Qin Prince’s virtue of frugality spread like a virus through the entire Tiance Prefecture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The page boy blinked in surprise, then said: “Are you Nan Hanwen, Scholar Nan?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen frowned: “Yes, I’ve never come here before—how do you know me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The page boy answered: “Before leaving today, Master Qu told me: if after he departs, a man ten or so years younger than him arrives, speaking bluntly, bearing gifts, then taking them back when leaving—that man is Scholar Nan Hanwen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That is you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen’s mouth twitched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The page boy merely asked him to wait, then returned to the rented room. Soon he emerged again, holding something: “This is Master Qu’s letter for you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen’s heart sank. He set down the gifts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The page boy seized the opportunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Following Qu Hanxiu’s earlier whispered instruction, he snatched Nan Hanwen’s gifts, slipped them into the courtyard, shut the door, and watched Nan Hanwen like a wary stray black cat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Nan Hanwen, hardened by years of frugality, paid no mind. He unrolled the letter, read only a few lines—and his face turned ashen. He forgot everything else, turned, and sprinted toward the familiar place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He fell once mid-run, but rose without pause, staggering forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hand clenched the letter tightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Nan kid, you came looking for me, ha! You were always honest-mouthed but stubborn inside—now you care for me, ha! Good, good. True propriety must come from the heart.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[You are a man of propriety.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[The Red Emperor is gone. Do you think I’d die for him, or serve him faithfully? Honestly—I won’t. When young, I studied Confucian texts, followed Master Zilu—straight, brave, walking my own path.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Later, I realized most things are beyond human control.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[I learned one truth.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[The world is treacherous—if it’s hopeless, retreat.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[The rotting Red Emperor line isn’t worth my death. A gentleman’s death cannot be so simple.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[I have one question: do you remember our first time eating duck blood vermicelli soup? We talked then. I told you how I was shaken when the Qin Prince said, ‘Let all under heaven die for me’—I panicked, lost my composure.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Because destruction alone brings chaos, no order—common folk become grass and dogs, no peace remains. But the Qin Prince’s order was being built at the same time.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Cutting ties with the past, opening peace, stabilizing the realm—that is the true path.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[But…]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen hurried. At this moment, he cursed he wasn’t a skilled martial cultivator—he had no divine steps or techniques, only these two legs. He burst onto the street—crowds everywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under the Qin Prince’s rule, especially in Jiangnan—the first region to implement reforms—it was extraordinarily prosperous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schoolchildren laughed, discussing today’s plans; elderly market-goers chatted; men and women entered the city, laughing. The bustling world flowed like a great river, blocking Nan Hanwen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Excuse me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sorry, please move aside.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let me through…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Scholar Nan Hanwen pushed against the tide of people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the world’s tide blocked his path—he couldn’t advance, his heart burning with urgency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Down a narrow alley, the same stall still bustled. The vendor saw the old man return—not because he had a good memory, though stallkeepers must remember regulars; poor memory meant no business.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, with so many customers, remembering them all was impossible. Yet he remembered this old man deeply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was simply too distinctive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One, his rigid, old-fashioned, stubborn demeanor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two, the scholarly aura from his vast reading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three, his extreme conservatism—he ate the same dish every single time, never changed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, no matter the season, the old man always wore clothing that looked unbearably hot at the time—these few traits made him truly stand out; honestly, it was nearly impossible to ignore him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper wiped his hands and stepped forward with a cheerful smile: “Old sir, you’ve come.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu replied with perfect solemnity: “Mm.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper asked: “Same as usual?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu smiled at the street outside and said: “No.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked at the shopkeeper: “Today, I’d like to try something new.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper paused, then merely chuckled and said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright then, take a seat.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper swiftly brought a bowl of radish and duck soup, a bowl of rice, and a plate of pickled vegetable strips—simple and satisfying. Qu Hanxiu ate with his usual precision, when he noticed a table of elder and child who had clearly just arrived from elsewhere; their speech carried an accent unfamiliar to this region.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was their first time in this southern land; they were unfamiliar with its local delicacies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Children who came from impoverished areas but found themselves in bustling urban centers often grew stubborn yet easily influenced by their surroundings, constantly feeling as if everyone watched them and laughed at them, inevitably becoming awkward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more awkward they felt, the worse they performed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as he sweated from panic, he heard a laugh—his body tensed—then a familiar dialect: “You don’t eat it like that.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He froze, looked up, and saw an old man smiling at him, speaking in the boy’s own hometown tongue—even the nearby accent—filling him with sudden warmth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child asked hesitantly: “You… you’re from Zhao County, Wuli Village too?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu smiled: “You and your grandfather left home when…?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child and his grandfather exchanged glances; the man, much younger than Qu Hanxiu, said: “Ah, the boy’s accomplished something—he solved the riddles left by the Mo masters. Before leaving, one of those Mo masters said whoever solved them possessed the innate talent for Mo mechanical arts and could come here to try.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Qin King said reading is useful.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So we brought the boy here to give it a shot.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We don’t seek wealth or glory—just can’t let him dig in the dirt like us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We only arrived today, never saw how to eat here—ended up making a fool of ourselves.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu laughed: “What’s there to laugh at?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The world is vast. Even if you’re a genius, even after studying under great masters until your hair turns white, you still won’t know many things. Not knowing, yet fearing others will mock you for it—that’s why you stay silent, and remain ignorant forever.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But if you ask, won’t you learn?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child blurted: “But they’ll laugh at you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu smiled: “So what if they laugh?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu said: “We move forward precisely because we’re laughed at. Want to learn how to eat properly?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child hesitated, stood, brushed off his clothes—ignoring the patched holes—and bowed deeply: “Please, Master, teach me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu grinned proudly, stroking his beard: “A promising lad.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man held the pancake, animated as he explained: “This pancake? You can eat it plain, soak it, however you like—just pick it up and bite into it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Some eat it plain, savoring the grain’s fragrance.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Others break off a piece, dip it into duck blood soup, soak it until it absorbs the duck’s flavor—tastes like duck meat, yet isn’t duck meat. Quite exquisite.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve also got a brilliant way I learned from a young master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu raised an eyebrow, proudly took half the pancake, stood it upright, poked a hole in its soft center, then squeezed hard—creating a hollow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stuffed it with duck blood, duck offal, and pickled radish, then handed it to the child. The child took a huge bite—the chewy, wheat-scented crust, the tender duck blood, the crisp offal, the crunchy radish—all textures bursting at once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes widened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took another huge bite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu stroked his beard and grinned: “Well? Tasty?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child nodded vigorously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So don’t fear asking. Don’t fear not knowing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you never speak up, you’ll never discover such wonderful opportunities.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is face important?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child remained silent for a long while: “But some people still won’t speak up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, then said: “If only these things and secrets could be written in a book, told to everyone—then even those who can’t speak could learn much from it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu smiled: “What’s your name?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child answered: “Song Da.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu said: “Too crude. Not proper.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child stood, bowed: “Please, Master, give me a name.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu froze, then burst into laughter: “You’ve a delightful nature—no wonder you solved the Mo masters’ riddles. Very well, old man will give you a name… Since ancient heroes are born under the stars…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You shall be called Song Yingxing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The stars and constellations—Changgeng Star shines as the morning star, illuminating the dark. May you, as you said, write a scroll as vast and all-encompassing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your name: Song Yingxing, courtesy name Changgeng.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The child bowed deeply in thanks. Qu Hanxiu smiled and departed, gazing at the landscape, walking calmly until he reached a lake near the southern city. The old man looked at the lake, his expression warm and serene, then slowly rose and strolled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen staggered to the eating place—Qu Hanxiu was gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper recognized him: “Master Nan.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen asked: “Did Old Qu come?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shopkeeper smiled: “Yes, yes—he just left. Oh, he ordered something for you…” Nan Hanwen froze. Where Qu Hanxiu usually sat lay a single bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen stood stunned, eyes reddening, turned, and stumbled out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu stepped into the lake, calm and composed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【But establishing new rites is never simple. As the ancients said: no destruction, no establishment.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【How to destroy? Old man thinks: nothing surpasses advancing beyond the final act of the old rites. And nothing is more direct than the fall of the very person who embodies those old rites.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【I have, through the Qin King’s coming-of-age, become the ultimate symbol of the old rites—everything once decided by tradition now rests on my judgment. A solitary authority. But do you think this is the fame I seek?】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Foolishness. Such figures have existed in every dynasty.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【If I pursue fame, how could I be satisfied with this?】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Now, the Red Emperor has perished for his state—the foundation of the old rites has collapsed. Now, the grand edifice built upon those old rites must topple too. Only then can the new rites emerge more naturally, more thoroughly.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【No destruction, no establishment. If destruction is incomplete, establishment will be too.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Yet I must pour cold water on you: today’s old rites were once new rites. Perhaps centuries hence, your path too will become old—and must be destroyed again. For thousands of years, it has always been so.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【I am no fool who dies for the old rites out of blind loyalty.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【I wish only to be the first to die for the new rites. When I am gone, the final chains of the old rites will be broken. Boy, the rest is yours.】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu raised his hand and adjusted his noble cap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His expression solemn, composed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old man shall have a name that lasts a thousand autumns!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a false, hollow fame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen clutched the final letter, searched everywhere for the old man, sweat beading on his brow, disheveled—then heard a cry of anguish, saw the Qilin Army mobilizing. His face turned deathly pale—he understood. He rushed forward, shoved through the crowd, and stood frozen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An old man’s corpse lay peacefully in the water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>White-haired, immaculate, dressed in full ceremonial robes of the fallen dynasty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen staggered, collapsed to the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For half his life, his teacher: a man who weakened a state to pacify the world—a radical poisoner of the realm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the past year, teacher and friend: a rigid Confucian scholar, stubborn, calm, and detached.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boy, do you know what 【fame】 truly is?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen gripped the letter, opened his mouth—no sound came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Red Emperor Ji Zichang died; Ji Yanzhong leapt with Ji Ning’er off the cliff—Ji lineage’s imperial bloodline extinguished. Qu Hanxiu submitted a memorial, posthumous title: Lie.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lie” means: upholding virtue, honoring achievement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the Red Emperor’s line ended, he bore the fierce posthumous title “Honoring Achievement.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qu Hanxiu, head of the Rites Ministry, the foremost scholar of rites in the realm, drowned himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He left two letters: one to Nan Hanwen, one to all other scholars. One revealed his true heart; the other claimed he died for the state, murdered by traitors who killed the Red Emperor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old rites collapsed—but their final force turned public opinion into a vortex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All declared the Emperor a traitor; the Qin King the rightful heir.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Qin King’s rites, endorsed by Qu Hanxiu’s dying words, gained legitimacy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One man’s death could rally the realm’s tide—such is the power of rites.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As written in the final letter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>May the Qin King punish the traitor Emperor, found a new state, and claim the throne with the most legitimate claim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nan Hanwen submitted a memorial, posthumous title: Wen Zhong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In a brief span, change and death came in torrents—grandeur, valor, composure—yet all were but one era opening, another rushing forward like an unceasing tide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such is the nature of eras.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The collapse of eight hundred years of Red Emperor order meant all prior structures had crumbled—even the most fundamental. Chaos spread. Then two great events erupted like swords cleaving through it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First: Jiang Wanxiang openly usurped imperial rites and proclaimed himself emperor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Second—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Emperor Jiang Wanxiang, the Divine General Jiang Su.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>War declared without announcement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Marching a million troops to punish King Qin Li Guanyi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>?? Please support the God-Seeking Banner event, friends~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>? Click the top-left corner of Qidian to find it.\u003C\u002Fp>",3383,"2026-06-20T19:20:36.387Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","f5ff582c7fc147af50f93b9403a21e1ad0fdc77d8ca56a1d73ae21d293de488f","the-peace-decree-chapter-540","the-peace-decree-chapter-538",593,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-peace-decree-cover.jpg"]