Chapter 549: Emperor! (End of This Volume)

Nan Hanwen's proposal had been carefully considered; now that the world was in turmoil and the Ying state had already chosen and proclaimed its new emperor, it had stirred up a great wave of upheaval.

Jiang Wanxiang forced Ji Zichang to burn himself alive and usurped the imperial title.

Now his son continues to claim the imperial title.

Yet Qin Wang remains merely a Wang Hou, holding the post of Grand Marshal of the Red Emperor's troops—implicitly already falling a step behind.

Nan Hanwen's memorial cited two reasons.

First, the bloodline of the Red Emperor has been severed.

And it was Ji Zichang and others who fought desperately to break those chains; if Li Guanyi still operates under the title of Grand Marshal of the Red Emperor's troops, then all the efforts of Ji Zichang, Ji Yanzhong, and even Qu Hanxiu have been in vain.

Second—

The prestige of titles.

Is also a tremendous power.

The tide of momentum: the Ying state still controls nearly half the realm, still possesses the realm's foremost general—Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu, Qin Yulong—and other top-tier commanders.

It still maintains the morale and logistics for wars involving millions.

Even though Jiang Wanxiang is dead, the aura left by this monarch still creates an illusion—that the Ying state remains at its peak. With such public sentiment, if Qin Wang does not ascend as emperor, he will be seen as inferior.

Even if this thought is only faint, lingering in people's hearts.

Yet even the slightest thing, against the vast scale of the world, becomes a force powerful enough to move mountains.

After submitting his report, Nan Hanwen bowed his head and stood there.

For a moment, silence fell; the civil and military ministers and generals of the Tiance Prefecture and the Fire Qilin Army held their breath, all gazing at Li Guanyi—the title of "Emperor," nearly universally recognized across the realm.

To them, in this era, it carried extraordinary meaning.

This was not merely a strategic choice.

For these people, who had walked this path to reach this very point, it was an indescribable, elusive, yet undeniably real state of heart—what could prove these ten years of journey? What could validate this tumultuous tide?

Only this one character.

Even Yan Daiqing felt a momentary daze.

Emperor…

From nothing to something, building this glorious realm step by step through chaos.

Ten years—opening the world!

How magnificent.

As for Mr. Pojun—

No need to mention him.

Yan Daiqing cast a glance.

At this moment, Mr. Pojun's lips could easily hang the Tiger Roar Battle Spear.

Had the atmosphere not been so solemn, this strategist, focused on grand trends, might have leapt to his feet, laughed aloud to the heavens, and rushed back to write letters to the elder generations of the Pojun lineage, desperate to paste this face of "petty men triumphant" right onto them.

That would have been a gross breach of decorum.

Yet Yan Daiqing and the others also felt tension and worry—they feared Qin Wang might still cling to his friendship with Ji Zichang and refuse to accept the imperial title; or perhaps believe the world was not yet unified and thus could not yet bear the title.

This worry did not last long.

Qin Wang's voice had already fallen: "... Agreed."

Nan Hanwen snapped his head up, heart surging with joy; the Li Guanyi who had always cared little for fame and rank among warlords rose, his sleeves swirling down, and said: "Do as you all wish."

Li Guanyi looked at the familiar faces before him and said:

"We cannot retreat anymore."

"Thank you all."

The one great stone in their hearts—the Qin Wang's gentle nature, so unlike a warlord of this chaotic age—had finally been set aside; the man standing here was truly the emperor who had forged this world.

An involuntary ripple stirred in their hearts, then swiftly swept away by a surge of excitement, blood pounding, skin seeming to burn.

They stepped forward in perfect unison.

Then, solemn in expression, they clasped hands in salute and said:

"Yes!"

"We receive the edict of Our Emperor!"

Qin Wang merely nodded; Nan Hanwen stepped forward, bowed, and said: "Then, regarding the state name, the reign title, and other matters, this old minister shall consult with the lords and present the decisions to Your Majesty."

As they walked out after concluding the matter, Yan Daiqing exhaled deeply; though it was deep autumn and the air outside carried a chill, his back was drenched in sweat—the wind sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"It's Master Yan."

Passing scholars bowed respectfully.

Yan Daiqing nodded to the passing officials and scholars.

His bearing was refined and clear.

One hand behind his back, he strolled calmly—truly serene and elegant; officials and scholars remarked that perhaps because no wars were being fought, the granaries and treasuries were filling with grain and silver.

Perhaps also because Master Wen Qingyu was absent.

Master Yan Daiqing had lately become much more temperate.

Amid all these gazes, Yan Daiqing walked into a quiet side path, found himself alone, exhaled, then suddenly clenched both fists and pulled them sharply downward—his calm, gentle face finally cracked open into fierce jubilation.

"Ha!! Emperor!"

"After ten years, have we truly reached this point?!"

"Exhilarating! Exhilarating!"

The usually gentle, jade-like youth now bore the look of his younger self—bold, radiant, full of spirit.

To be among the very first of mankind!

Master Yan Daiqing—

Super invincible, refreshed and clear-headed!

"Besides, what sort of thing is that Jiang Yuan? Just a fellow who leans on his ancestors. Your Majesty personally carved out an emperor's hegemonic enterprise — this is a founding emperor. Set against the long sweep of the green annals, there are not many who can stand shoulder to shoulder with Your Majesty."

"Ha, thinking of it like this, ten years ago in Jiangzhou City, I actually got into a fight with him. Although I have to say I was beaten pretty badly, I did land some hits on him too. Set down in the green annals, it counts as a certain refined…"

The hardships of leaving home as a youth, the campaigns of these past years — though he had already seen with his own eyes what the Qin Wang's realm truly looked like, for Yan Daiqing, he had already received his reward, and his wish was fulfilled.

But the grandeur and righteousness brought by that single character.

The vastness and majesty that character carried — not a shred of doubt remained.

Yet it was also utterly exhilarating!

It was almost like returning to his youth, seeing the long wind sweep vast and rivers flow ten thousand miles — that soaring, high-spirited feeling.

Yan Daiqing's murmuring voice cut off abruptly.

He stood with his fist still clenched, holding the excited gesture from his younger days, staring blankly ahead at the Qin Wang's chief strategist, Mr. Pojun — dressed in splendid robes, his pupils faintly violet — who was watching him with refined composure.

Yan Daiqing: "…………"

He needed to explain first.

He could explain.

Then he saw that handsome, violet-eyed strategist looking him up and down.

Then the corner of his mouth curved into a subtle arc.

"Oh?"

Turned and left.

Just those three simple actions.

Master Yan Daiqing seemed to hear the sound of his Dao heart shattering. The corner of his mouth twitched, his whole person dimmed, and he felt that the image he had built over so many years was about to crumble in an instant.

He had previously muttered to himself that Mr. Pojun's mouth always curved up — wild and unrestrained, without any bearing of a true scholar.

But just now, the arc that corner of his mouth curved into could have hung a thread from it.

Even Wen Qingyu could have pulled it up.

Having judged others earlier, only to be seen in such a state by that friend who teased him in secret — Yan Daiqing was being beaten in turns by his own sense of morality and his shame.

In another direction, Mr. Pojun was cheerfully thinking.

"Ah, so Yan Daiqing has this kind of habit too."

"Tsk tsk tsk, he actually found this place before me."

"Not bad, not bad."

The entire Fire Qilin army was caught up in a special atmosphere of surging emotion — events like 【Founding Emperor】 【Ascending the Throne to Proclaim Sovereignty】, viewed through the green annals, only feel grand, but truly taking part in them brings a distinct sense of vastness and mission.

As if one had truly transformed into a figure from history.

One could almost foresee how, a thousand years hence, the gentlemen of later ages would look upon them.

Just thinking of it filled the heart with an inexpressible exhilaration.

Nan Hanwen and the others had originally planned to hold a grand ceremony for the ascension to emperor — at least on par with the Ying Kingdom's new emperor's pomp — but were ordered by the Qin Wang to keep everything simple.

Nan Hanwen and the others felt this was normal enough.

Instead, Li Zhaowen made her second wish — she only asked Li Guanyi to go riding with her across the open lands. Their Wu Gong was both extremely high, and the mounts they rode were all top-grade divine steeds among dragon horses.

They galloped in one breath to the end of the Jianghe, where they saw the great sun stretching vast and the scenery before them opened wide.

Li Guanyi and Li Zhaowen stood before this Jianghe. Li Zhaowen casually tossed a wine gourd to Li Guanyi. Li Guanyi caught the gourd, tilted his head back to drink, his bearing unhurried. Li Zhaowen watched his profile.

Her fingers tucked behind her back, she tapped herself with a bent knuckle, as if urging herself to do something.

But she still seemed unable to bring herself to speak.

After hesitating several times like this, she finally asked, in her usual 'carefree' manner:

"Guanyi, how is this wine?!"

Li Guanyi replied: "Not bad."

"Judging by the taste, it should be quite expensive."

Li Zhaowen couldn't help but laugh: "Haha, you, you — still the same. But that's what makes you you. Lately I'd been a little worried, you know."

Her voice paused, and finally, as if relaxing, she said: "I was worried that, because of your relationship with Emperor Ji Zichang, you would choose never to proclaim yourself sovereign, never to proclaim emperor — just keep moving forward step by step until you defeated the Ying Kingdom. If it had been like that…"

Her voice paused.

She had originally meant to say that, if it had been like that, then Li Guanyi — who would defeat the Ying Kingdom under the title of 【Grand Marshal of the Armies of the Red Emperor's Court】 — would face the problem that, beneath such a vast momentum, there would inevitably be those whose hearts longed to rebuild the Red Emperor's line.

Only at this moment, before this final great battle, could the order of heaven and earth be set.

Only then could the enemy state be broken, the foes destroyed, sacrifices made to heaven and earth, and the merit of once again unifying all under heaven be carried out.

In her impression, Li Guanyi was, in his own way, gentle.

So her voice paused, and she only laughed carelessly: "I was even thinking of using my second wish to persuade you."

Li Guanyi looked into the distance and only said: "Have I changed?"

"I haven't changed anything."

"It's just that, having come this far, even stopping here would be a betrayal."

Li Guanyi drained the wine. He flipped himself onto his horse and galloped across the wild heavens and earth. Li Zhaowen was stunned for a moment, then laughed carelessly and raced after him. Li Zhaowen still seemed a little curious. Li Guanyi took her back to the Jiangnan prefecture city.

Carrying the wine, he went to a certain place.

The surroundings there were quiet and secluded, an open expanse of land, with stone steles inscribed one after another.

Li Zhaowen, who had been wearing her usual smile as in days past, saw that the stone steles bore the names of the departed, and her expression gradually grew solemn. Li Guanyi reached out and traced the characters on them, his voice calm and steady, and said to the first stele:

"My father Li Wanli, who roamed the world seeking peace, died at the hands of villains."

"My mother Su Changqing — when I was young, I was afflicted with Fei poison. When the poison flared, it could have taken my life directly. My mother diverted the poison into her own body, and entrusted her Dharma form, the Blue Luan, to me."

"More than twenty years ago, at the great sacrifice of Chen, they died together."

"At that time I was three years old, my aunt was seventeen, and we began to wander the world, wandering for ten years."

Li Guanyi walked forward and said softly, "This is Elder Zu."

"Zu Wenyuan, Elder Zu, who taught me the art of calculation and also laid out the scheme of Jiangzhou City ten years ago. I, Big Brother Yue, Marshal Yue, Wenmian—we all left that city, but Elder Zu never returned."

"Wang Tong the Master, in a single discourse on the Dao, broke through the barriers of the various masters and scholarly factions of the Academy, and allowed the Academy's disciples to set foot upon the world, letting the Hundred Schools truly enter the mortal realm. His heart failed and his life was spent; he passed away that very year. When the Master died, I was still fighting in the Western Regions."

"General Gu Daohui, bearing humiliation and burden, in the end, to block Jiang Su, self-detonated using the secret arts of the Yimo Sect and perished…"

"Qu Hanxiu, I still remember his initial arrogance as one of the older generation…"

"In the end, threw himself into the lake."

"Prince Ji Yanzhong, old sir—my Wu Gong began with the techniques Big Brother Yue taught me, began with that earliest Red Dragon Dharma Aspect, and Big Brother Yue's Wu Gong came from Prince Ji Yanzhong… he died for the entrustment of Ning'er and Emperor Ji Zichang."

"Yu Langwang, the Divine Martial Wang Chen Fubi—there is no need to mention him. You and I both know his Wu Gong. In the end, he used his own life as a blade, cleaving open the chaotic age, and shattering Jiang Wanxiang's overwhelming momentum."

"He died, perished, his corpse could not remain whole."

"The Old Living Buddha, keeping his promise, sent Uncle's body and weapons back, then sat in passing…"

"Chen Tianqi, the foremost war general of Chen a hundred and eighty years ago, exhausted his strength and ended his lifespan before the decisive stele on the Tujue grasslands."

"Emperor Ji Zichang, Brother Changwen, and sister-in-law Wen Wan'er…"

Li Guanyi walked step by step, speaking these names of old acquaintances one by one. These were not merely steles, not merely simple names—every person he named, the things they had done, were things Li Guanyi himself had experienced, and each was worthy of being called a hero of their time.

They appeared in Li Guanyi's life like shooting stars, each having more or less influence upon him, and then walked their own paths with composure to the end.

At last he walked to the very front, where there was a massive stele covered densely with names that could not all be inscribed. These were the names of those who had died in battle, from the Wandering Legion until now—there was not even enough space here, so the steles had been built into a forest.

Li Zhaowen watched Li Guanyi standing before the massive stele.

The stele was very large; Li Guanyi standing before it actually appeared somewhat thin in comparison. He had to raise his head to take in all those names, yet standing alone before the massive stele, he looked inexplicably desolate.

The ministers and officials, the heroes of the world, all saw the monarch's magnanimity.

But a person's temperament and character are not forged in a single stroke.

The dignity of a founding emperor was forged over these ten years, through the appearance of old acquaintances one by one, and the departure of old acquaintances one by one.

Li Zhaowen seemed to see blades falling one after another.

Blades that carved the little pharmacist of ten years ago—who laughed freely, sought a stable world, a half roast goose and a day of leisure—into his present form. Li Guanyi gently set down the wine pot in his hand. When the wind blew over, the sound of the leaves was desolate, as if old acquaintances were speaking.

The Qin Wang's sleeves and white hair lifted slightly; he stood there in silence.

Just for this single instant.

Li Zhaowen suddenly understood the meaning of the four characters 【calling oneself alone and lord of all】.

Li Guanyi poured the wine down and said softly, "Gentlemen, now the four corners of the world have been pacified, the Western Regions are all level, the Tujue have been scattered, the Southwest is with us. Though the territory of the realm is vast, only Ying Country remains."

"It will not be much longer. We will defeat the last enemy."

"And then, fulfill the promise made long ago."

"On the day the world is at peace, I shall come back here, and drink with you all!"

Li Guanyi let the wine spill down, turned around. His gaze was no longer the youthful valor of his younger days, no longer the confidence and sharpness of one who galloped across the four corners of the world, but a gentle, serene, yet incomparably firm strength. With his back to these steles, he said softly:

"I cannot lose, nor will I stop. Of a hundred li, ninety is but half—how could I retreat now? I cannot."

"I will trample this chaotic age to pieces."

"I will make this world at peace!"

Li Zhaowen looked at Li Guanyi, and suddenly seemed to be at ease; she sighed.

Her fingers loosened, and on her face remained that composed, free-and-easy smile:

"Indeed, in your eyes now, there is no room for any other feeling."

"Very well, then I shall wait for the day the world is at peace, and we can speak slowly then."

Li Zhaowen clasped her hands behind her back, fingers hooked, and murmured:

"Mm, I won't be like them."

"Abandoning you."

Old Master Siming tilted his neck back to drink. He lay on the upper level of the wooden tower, on the glazed tiles, watching the Qin Wang and the steles, sighed, and said: "Taking the Southwest, pacifying the Western Regions, breaking the grasslands—such achievements, such a territory, already surpass the feats of the Red Emperor of old."

"If in the end he wins, it can no longer be described as merely unifying the Central Plains."

"One realm under heaven, the four seas united."

"All beneath the sky is the king's land; all at the water's edge are the king's subjects."

"Such magnanimity, such achievements—can they merit being the foremost Basic Annals in the endless blue annals?"

Beyond the Northern Pass—

General Yuan Shitong and Xue Tianxing were wild with joy.

They had also learned of the Qin Wang's imminent ascension to the throne. In the great contests of the world before, through several campaigns, they too burned with longing to set foot on the battlefield, hoping to achieve merit and fame. But that foremost divine archer Gao Xiang was still beyond the Northern Pass, his might at its peak.

They could only stay here.

In their hearts, they knew not how much vexation, how much regret.

Now that the Qin Wang was to be emperor, all the pent-up gloom in their hearts was swept clean in an instant, leaving only an indescribable exhilaration, an indescribable thorough satisfaction. Yet in such circumstances, intelligence came again from the front.

General Yuan Shitong had only glanced at the intelligence once, and the smile on his face froze.

There was only a single simple sentence on the intelligence.

【Divine General Gao Xiang has moved】

In an instant, it was as if a chill rose up with a sinister air.

Divine General Gao Xiang, the true foremost divine archer.

In the battle where the Central Plains jointly slew the Great Khan, a single arrow shattered the connection between the Great Khan's Dharma Aspect and his fortune, causing the Great Khan's qi to falter for an instant, after which Li Guanyi and Jiang Su struck together and killed him.

This Divine General may not be the strongest on the frontal battlefield.

But it could absolutely cause the threat posed by the God of War Jiang Su to surge once more.

Gao Qiang in his youth was as close as brothers with Jiang Wanxiang, but later they fell out; he once swore he would never stand alongside Jiang Wanxiang, and would pursue him across the battlefield. Now that Jiang Wanxiang has fallen, the Divine General Gao Qiang must, at last, set foot upon the battlefield of this chaotic age.

General Yuan Shitong and Xue Tianxing both knew full well the terror of this Divine General.

And they knew even better just how fearsome Jiang Su would become with Gao Qiang holding the line.

A heavy, solemn expression crossed their faces. And at this moment, the second portion of the intelligence from the Changfeng Tower arrived—Li Guanyi's state title, honorific title, and era name.

In an instant, two tidings rose at once in the hearts of Yuan Shitong and Xue Tianxing: the most exhilarating news of Qin Wang ascending the throne and proclaiming himself emperor, and the threat brought by the intelligence that Divine General Gao Qiang had set foot upon the battlefield.

One joy, one worry. The world surged with great waves, and faintly one sensed the oppressive weight of a storm about to break.

They looked toward the intelligence.

Following the old forms of address, Li, by taboo name Guanyi, has fixed the tripod and founded the nation, named—

【Qin】!

The One Origin: the great beginning.

The era name is fixed as—【Shi】!

……………………

The time was late autumn, already turned to winter. Qin Wang Li Guanyi ascended the throne and proclaimed himself emperor.

The realm trembled; in all four directions they sang of the sovereign's majesty and deeds. Even in Yicheng, an old Shopkeeper from a pharmacy called Huichuntang took out his fine wine and, together with the plump tavern owner, drank themselves senseless for days on end.

Were it not for the splitting headache after sobering up, it would have been a fine time indeed.

The songs and praises from all directions never ceased, crying: Long live our Emperor.

After the simple yet dignified and solemn rites were concluded, Li Guanyi slipped away from everyone and returned alone to the courtyard where he was accustomed to stay—Elder Murong Longtu's courtyard.

In the great-grandfather's courtyard there stood an old tree. It was here that the wooden sword Elder Murong Longtu had carved with his own hands had rested for who knows how many springs and autumns, before finally gaining spiritual resonance and becoming the divine weapon Longtu.

Li Guanyi sat beneath this tree, lifted his head to gaze at the stars and moon above. Faintly, at the edge of hearing, came laughter and the sounds of celebration. Before the great war began, the people had found a brief respite in the events of recent days.

He felt that this counted as a good thing.

They were searching for Li Guanyi, but Li Guanyi himself had hidden himself away.

He held a jar of wine and a rough wine bowl.

In this place that seemed set apart from the mortal world, leaning against an old tree of unknown years, he breathed out a white mist and drank alone.

It was already winter. White snow drifted down from the sky. Qin Huang held his wine, watching the snowflakes fall into the wine and melt. He raised his cup and drank alone in tribute to those who had passed. The eighteenth year of Tianqi—even across these several thousand years of history—was weighty enough to be called a stroke of bold ink.

All manner of heroes bloomed with brilliance and then, one after another, took their leave. The realm, chaotic for hundreds of years, had returned to a state of two powers dividing the world before peace. And the final great matter of this year—

The winds and clouds of the world emerge from our generation; once one enters the rivers and lakes, the years press on.

A flute, a sword, the whole of life; bearing two hundred years of wild renown.

Jiang Wanxiang of the Ying Kingdom fell; the three armies sang the Chile Song in unison; the sun and sky went dark.

Murong Longtu of Jiangnan, with one sword split open the heavens and severed the tide of fortune, rode the dragon and ascended.

The realm. The jianghu.

For a moment, silence.

Li Guanyi drank alone, gazing upon this world grown distant.

The Emperor of Chen died laughing; the Emperor of Ying perished at his natural span; Emperor Ji Zichang burned himself; the Great Khan died in battle. In all this vast realm, there were no more opponents—yet many friends were lost as well. In all the four corners, only the God of War Jiang Su remained, holding up this broken Great Ying.

At twenty-two, Qin Wang ascended the throne and proclaimed himself emperor.

He founded a nation, held half the realm.

Posterity called him Grand Progenitor.

When he founded his state and ascended the throne, the realm sang of his deeds; people searched for his traces in different places, yet did not find this sovereign who had achieved peerless accomplishments.

It was winter, and snow was falling.

He sat alone in a Jiangnan courtyard. The white snow fell upon his ink-black great cloak; the emperor's black hair hung down, yet at his temples clung white. In the records of the annals, this was the moment when Qin Wang was at his most spirited and proud—but his back seemed, more than before, all the more lonely.

Poets, drunk on wine, imagined the bearing of a sovereign, all in high spirits, saying: The imperial enterprise and hegemony are but matters of idle talk—as if that single line laid bare all the heroic spirit of this world, spoke all its romance.

Yet in the annals there is often another answer. The youth of the realm grow old with the realm. Why is it that the heroes who opened an age all end in solitude, calling themselves lone and bereft? Were all emperors, from the very start, such sharp and unfeeling folk, untouched by sorrow or joy?

Beneath the moonlight, Qin Huang upended the wine jar; the rough bowl filled with wine.

White snow fell, and he softly spoke: let us drink together.

The cup lowered to his lips, then amid the falling snow he tilted his head back slightly and drank in quiet calm.

Before him lay the realm, and peace; behind him lay the mortal world, the dust of life. Before him, peace—but one more battle yet to fight. Only those who had walked beside him, one by one, were fading away.

The imperial enterprise and hegemony are but matters of idle talk.

Unbearable is this life.

A single bout of drunkenness.

(End of this volume)

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