Chapter 573: Memorial to the Departed

Your Majesty, where have you gone?

Facing Xue Changqing’s question, Sa Atandi thought of the monarch’s figure and could not answer at once; she rose from the rooftop, brushed her hanging robes, then leapt straight down.

Though not renowned for martial prowess, her peak Second Heaven cultivation allowed her to leap down with ease; this left Xue Changqing, who had opened his arms to embrace his wife, awkwardly retracting his hands and pretending to be busy.

Sa Atandi said: “Are those few people searching for him?”

Xue Changqing said: “Your sister is fine—it’s Master Qiao and Master Nan Hanwen who are seeking His Majesty. Now that all four corners are pacified, the heroes, generals, and monarchs who once ruled the world in the last age have all passed away.”

“If names are not correct, speech will not be proper; if speech is not proper, affairs will not succeed.”

“Master Nan Hanwen proposes a grand ceremony to establish the dynasty, sacrifice to Heaven and Earth, and proclaim to all the people the founding of the realm.”

“Before this matter, all else is of lesser importance.”

Sa Atandi nodded, agreeing with this statement.

For millennia, this monarch swept away chaos, forged a new age, and seized the Mandate with unprecedented legitimacy; all awaited the monarch’s final confirmation of this act, declaring from a solemn station the end of chaos and the dawn of peace.

Of course, the traditional imperial amnesty for all under heaven was canceled.

Let each be dealt with as they deserve.

His Majesty of Qin possesses a spirit vast enough to contain a thousand autumns of empire, yet his heart is narrow—he tolerates no half-measures. Those who have broken law and order cannot be pardoned lightly; such a thing would be utterly unjust.

Sa Atandi thought a moment, then said: “I believe His Majesty of Qin has gone to visit an old friend.”

“An old friend…”

Xue Changqing opened his mouth, fell silent, touched the scar on his cheek, recalled his fallen comrades, his expression distant; his youthful face now bore traces of sorrow.

Sa Atandi’s gaze softened; she took her husband’s hand, stood beside him, gazed far off, and remained silent for a long while. Along this path, His Majesty of Qin had walked step by step, sacrificing too much for the ideal of peace—too many had departed.

If one has this jade, one must carve it with axe and blade.

Many things in this world are not simple or straightforward; they marched forward, swept the realm clean, accomplished the impossible—yet on the other side, they lost too much. The four words “lonely ruler” are cruel beyond measure for any individual.

Strong liquor spilled upon the ground, the wind thick with its pungent scent; Li Guanyi, clad in blue robes, hair bound by a jade pin, sat alone before each stone stele, the spilled wine like old friends standing before him.

His sleeves stirred in the wind; before him appeared many old friends.

His parents, his great-grandfather, his ancestral elder, Master Wang Tong, Wolf King Chen Chengbi, the Twenty-Four Generals of the Taiping Army, fallen comrades, and those who died beneath his banner—Yu Wenhua, the teacher who first taught the wandering band its battle array, Yu Wenti’an…

His friend Jiang Gao, whom Li Guanyi had killed with his own hands.

His confidant Ji Zichang, who burned himself alive to compel the Prince of Qin to become emperor.

The thirteen-year-old Li Yaoshi, whose eyes held only silver and roasted goose.

Step by step, he advanced; step by step, he lost. Through chaos and empire, he shed his youthful form, becoming the Qin Emperor who settled the age. The fine wine remains, but the old friends are gone—this is no longer the carefree journey of youth.

The Old Astronomer watched the Qin Emperor’s back, sniffing the wine’s fragrance in the air.

Suddenly, he recalled the city of Guanyi over a decade ago—the boy with still-juvenile features; back then, the Old Astronomer had climbed over a wall only to be blocked at the gate by this boy. Now, the Old Astronomer stood here, watching the solitary, haughty Qin Emperor.

Time flows like water eastward, never returning.

A man cannot be young again.

Even after achieving such feats, reaching the pinnacle of a thousand autumns—what then?

The Old Astronomer suddenly felt a chill.

All the brilliant figures of a thousand autumns have been swept away by wind and rain—gone, all gone.

Gone, all gone.

Li Guanyi, as a martial legend, clearly sensed the old man approaching; he poured wine onto the ground, turned his back to the Old Astronomer, and murmured: “When I was young, I dreamed of half a roasted goose. I never imagined that in the decades to come, I would arrive here.”

“Old Qianbei , Li Guanyi has blood on both hands.”

“Now that I stand here, with peace restored, these old friends cannot see it—so at least I must offer them wine freshly brewed this year. Will you join me in a cup, Qianbei ?”

The Old Astronomer’s face changed drastically; he spat repeatedly: “Pfft, pfft, pfft! You young fool, speak nonsense! This wine is for your old friends, not for me!”

“I’m not dead yet!”

“Don’t curse me!”

Li Guanyi couldn’t help but laugh at the old man, a faint smile on his face: “Fine, no wine. But aren’t you supposed to have transcended life and death? Why care?”

The Old Astronomer said: “How could I not care?!”

Li Guanyi smiled, fell silent for a moment, then tossed his wine flask forward: “Sometimes I still dream—I still see my old friends.”

“I open my eyes, and they’re gone. People say if you suddenly dream of someone, it means they’re beginning to forget you. Then what does this mean? All my old friends are gone—if I forget them too, a hundred years from now, no one will remember what they were like.”

The Old Astronomer looked at the back before him and said softly: “No, they won’t.”

“In the annals of a thousand autumns, their weight endures.”

Li Guanyi replied: “The annals pass from generation to generation, but the you and I within them—are they truly you and I? At least in the annals, the honored are spared shame—will it ever record that the Qin Emperor was greedy and poor?”

The Old Astronomer had no reply, only said:

“Will you now proclaim peace to all the people?”

Li Guanyi nodded, murmured “Mm,” and said: “Many tasks remain. The era of peace demands rules and order utterly unlike those of the past three centuries—it will take years, even a decade, to establish them and announce their beginning to all.”

The Old Astronomer said: “Then your wedding must wait until after the proclamation.”

Li Guanyi said: “Yes.”

The Qin Emperor rose, his sleeves swirling as he turned: “We have paid too high a price, sacrificed too much. This matter cannot pause, cannot linger. Nothing is more important.”

“I must see it through to the end.”

“Only then will I have not betrayed these ten years, not betrayed my old friends.”

The Old Astronomer watched his back, then laughed: “Though it may spoil your dignity, boy, I won’t drink your wine at your wedding.”

Li Guanyi froze.

His white hair stirred slightly in the wind; he murmured softly: “All my old comrades are gone. Even Jiankuang has dissolved his body, leaving behind legends of riding a dragon to ascend. Xue Qing has sunk into soul-sleep.”

“I won’t stay in Jiangnan—but I won’t go far.”

“I’ll walk through the country and empire you’ve built, watch your world and your future, then one day, find a beautiful place, a small house, and stop there.”

“Inside that small house, it’s comfortable—a stone table, a wooden chair. One day, drunk, I’ll simply never rise again.”

The Qin Emperor’s eyes held deep, heavy emotion—but he made no effort to detain him.

Only nodded.

The Old Astronomer burst into laughter, slapped Li Guanyi’s shoulder: “Watch yourself, boy—maybe when you’re old, I’ll still be alive. Then I’ll come find you for wine!”

“Martial legends live long.”

“Who knows who’ll outlast whom, boy? Off I go!”

The Old Astronomer turned and strode away—then suddenly halted.

Li Guanyi said: “ Qianbei , wait.”

The Old Astronomer turned.

Li Guanyi suddenly raised his hand and tossed something—a crystal stone spun through the air and landed in the Old Astronomer’s palm. The old man fumbled, stared at it, and froze: “This is…”

Li Guanyi retracted his hand and said:

“This is the Divine Essence Crystal of General Xue Shen. Only a grand array can restore it.”

“No one in the world understands qi flow better than you, Qianbei .”

“I entrust General Xue Shen to you. Find a spiritually wondrous place—perhaps he may awaken sooner.”

“Then you two can drink and chat together.”

Li Guanyi smiled:

“But Qianbei , don’t let General Xue Shen’s mouth get under your skin.”

The Old Astronomer looked at the crystal in his hand—he knew Li Guanyi had forcibly given him a reason, a purpose, to keep living. The old man smiled, laughed, then roared with laughter, clutching the crystal tightly:

“Good! Good! Good!”

The Old Astronomer turned, strode away, then paused, his back to Li Guanyi:

“Your Majesty!”

Li Guanyi looked at him.

The Old Astronomer shouted: “Farewell!”

Li Guanyi murmured: “Farewell.”

The old man waved his hand, facing away: “When you have leisure, I’ll come drink with you again!” Then, under Li Guanyi’s gaze, he strode far off, humming an ancient folk tune.

After leaving, the old man casually boarded a boat and drifted away.

But somehow, halfway across the river, the boat suddenly began to leak. The Old Astronomer turned pale, cursed: “Damn it! Why’s it leaking?!”

“Woe!”

“Should’ve never copied old Xue’s showy ways!”

“Damn it, not everyone’s as pretentious as that old bastard…”

The Old Astronomer reached out, seized his Black Tortoise Divine Form, and hurled it forward. The tortoise spun in midair, landed on the water—its inner spirit sank: “Oh no…”

This old man pulling me out? Something bad’s coming.

Before it could react—

The Old Astronomer had already plopped down on its back.

He shoved Xue Shen’s secret realm crystal into his bosom, sat atop the tortoise, which paddled through the water naturally. Though the Old Astronomer had no martial power now, the tortoise’s divine form moved effortlessly through water; he picked up a bamboo pole and pushed the boat forward.

Having passed through the dust of mortal life, witnessed the smoke of war, he now looked ahead—sky and water merged as one. Truly, the view was exhilarating, the wind broadening his chest. He tossed the bamboo pole aside, clapped his hands, and roared with laughter:

“In peaceful times, idle days stretch wide, playing through the world with boundless joy.”

“Green hills and clear waters are my companions; I watch clouds drift, my heart at ease.”

“Now I depart—do not grieve!”

“Where in the world won’t we meet again?”

"Now we part—do not pity me!"

"Hahaha, what great composure, what magnificent scenery!" The Old Astral Commander laughed, yet there was sorrow in his voice; he slapped the ancient tortoise divine form and said, "Alas, winds rise from the vast seas, and when this world is finally at peace, only you, my old brother, remain with me."

"You truly are my comrade through life and death."

The ancient tortoise rolled its eyes.

Is there ever such a thing as sitting on your own comrade’s back?!

Where is the logic in that?

Just as he was about to speak, the ancient tortoise opened its mouth—and suddenly froze, feeling it had bitten onto something. The next instant, its vision blurred, and the Old Astral Commander was dragged across the water’s surface, racing forward.

"Shit!!!"

"You bit the hook?! You’re gonna die, you’re gonna die, you’re gonna die!"

"Old turtle, let go!"

"Aren’t we comrades through life and death?! I’m not letting go!"

Both the Old Astral Commander and the ancient tortoise were stunned. The Old Astral Commander stood on the tortoise’s back, as if to say, “You’re dying, but don’t drag me down!” Meanwhile, the ancient tortoise clung desperately with its four short legs to the Old Astral Commander, as if determined to drag him down with him.

The water’s surface churned violently, the currents converging into a vortex.

After holding his breath for a long while, he was yanked upward, bursting through the water’s surface, soaring into the air, and landing on the boat. The ancient tortoise lay on its back, legs flailing skyward; the Old Astral Commander lay flat on the deck, coughing violently, then roared:

"Cough cough cough, you, you!"

"Who the hell is fishing?! Who fishes for people?!"

A calm voice replied succinctly: "Mine."

The Old Astral Commander stared, stunned, at the whale-fisher on the boat—wearing a green robe, white hair cascading, holding a fishing rod. He twitched his lips and said, "You... shouldn’t you be staying with your daughter?"

The whale-fisher replied coolly: "The world is at peace now. She’s with Li Guanyi—that boy—and perfectly safe. Besides, the crystal in Xue Shuangtao’s possession is in your hands. If I left you alone, you’d probably pawn it off for wine someday."

"Besides, is there any array in this world that surpasses mine?"

"With me here, that fellow might wake up sooner."

The Old Astral Commander froze, studying the white-haired man, then burst into laughter:

"Hahaha, you’re worried about me, aren’t you?"

The whale-fisher’s eye twitched.

"Bullshit!"

The whale-fisher swung his fishing rod, sending the Old Astral Commander plunging back into the water, drowning him.

Only when the sunset appeared in the sky did the Old Astral Commander stretch out his arms, lying on the boat’s deck, his belly swollen, laughing lazily: "Ah, I thought you’d stay here and help that little girl become Empress."

The whale-fisher’s gaze was calm: "Empress?"

"Why bind Yaoguang with such a title? Some statuses others deem noble may not suit her at all. For her, this isn’t a good thing."

"Children have their own fortunes. I can’t manage all of it."

"Let them be."

The Old Astral Commander glanced sideways at him: "Is it that you can’t manage it—or that you tried to force your way in, got slapped in the face, and now you’re sulking, running away from home?"

"Oh oh oh."

"Come on, you’re such a grown man, still throwing tantrums like a little..."

The silver-haired whale-fisher’s face turned icy. He rose.

He strode to the Old Astral Commander’s side, lifted his robe, and kicked the man—whose tongue was more venomous than even Xue Qing’s—straight into the water. The legendary martial artist, once a beggar and ranked third in venomous speech, shouted:

"Want to become fish food?!"

The Old Astral Commander only laughed loudly:

He laughed—

"Ah hahaha gurgle gurgle gurgle!"

"Fuck, white-haired fisherman, you’re serious—gurgle gurgle..."

The Emperor of Qin secured the world, ordering all gold and iron across the land to be gathered and forged into the remaining cauldrons from the Nine Tripods. Under these conditions, the Nine Tripods within his body finally underwent complete transformation—the very core of the Nine Tripods, which had never reached the pinnacle, now revealed itself.

Li Guanyi’s spiritual essence merged into the Nine Tripods; before him surged a torrent of destiny.

The Nine Tripods converged; a white jade staircase extended forward, unfolding before him.

He stepped forward slowly.