Chapter 587: Epilogue · The Form of the Dragon and Phoenix (Part Two)

Epilogue · The Form of the Dragon and Phoenix (Part Two)

The former territory of the Western Regions' Shanshan Kingdom, rich in sand and salt, poor in water and grass. To the north lies the White Dragon Dunes route; northwestward stretch hundreds of li of shifting sands, six hundred and fifty li from Anxi Prefecture, where flying sand and whirling gravel fill the horizon.

——————Historical Records · Atlas of Geography

Yellow sands of the great desert, wind and dust descending; Sa Atandi lifted her brush and recorded the characters. Behind her, the Emperor's carriage followed, while the Nine-Colored Deer herself forged the path ahead—even through this storm of wind and sand, only the faintest breeze remained, too weak to stir the white paper.

This imperial tour carried immense solemnity.

Not the extravagant waste and lavish splendor of the former Chen Dynasty's zenith, but a grave, imposing dignity: armored cavalry patrolled front and rear, blood-red cloaks billowing, blades sharper and deadlier in the winds of the Western Regions.

These weapons had drunk blood during the wars that unified the realm.

The Emperor's journey subtly shook the world; many could not fathom his hidden intent, but the Right Vice-Premier, Mr. Wen Qingyu, saw clearly. While idly eating roasted peanuts, he said to the accompanying Grand General:

"Your Majesty's procession carries such grandeur—it must be to settle the hearts of the Four Directions."

"Though the realm has been at peace for three years, before that there were over three centuries of chaos. Countless heroes and common men grew accustomed to winning fame and status with their swords. Now that peace has come, they are ill at ease."

The Left Commandant, Khan Qibili, fell solemnly silent, hand gripping his blade: "Your Majesty's military might crushed the Divine General, using the former greatest general of the realm as a stepping stone to quell the fierce spirit of all heroes under heaven."

"And he treats the common people with great leniency, winning their hearts."

"Now all the strongest under heaven revere and fear Your Majesty; the people have turned their loyalty to Qin. Who dares rebel?"

Wen Qingyu smiled and said: "The top heroes dare not move, and the common folk won't move—but what of those who consider themselves above ordinary men, yet have not attained the status they believe they deserve?"

"It is often these middle-tier men who stir up trouble."

"They are dissatisfied with the present order, still accustomed to the past centuries when courage and boldness could bring swift rise—and they refuse to be bound by Your Majesty's laws, greedy for quick gains, yet failing to achieve them. Naturally, they are discontent."

Khan Qibili fell into thought.

Wen Qingyu patted Khan Qibili's shoulder and said:

"The rules of the realm have changed, but habits within men's hearts are hard to correct at once. They still wish to stir up ripples, then seize advantage from the chaos."

"Didn't border troops once provoke unrest on purpose, then quell it to win military merit?"

Khan Qibili said: "Then Your Majesty's purpose here is precisely this."

Wen Qingyu laughed loudly: "Wrong."

Khan Qibili was puzzled.

Wen Qingyu slowly pointed at himself: "That is why I am here—not why Your Majesty has come." Khan Qibili was startled: "Mr. Wen…"

Before he could finish saying "Mr. Wen," Wen Qingyu stopped him.

Wen Qingyu raised a finger to his lips and smiled: "Wrong."

The wind of the Western Regions carried dry grit; the lingering heat from the fire that burned Wang Cheng years ago had not yet faded. The refined, earnest scholar from the Central Plains said: "Here, call me—"

"Master Yan Daiqing."

Khan Qibili paused.

He knew the past, and thus understood the storm and shock this name brought when it reappeared in the Western Regions after years—but even now, this Mr. Wen Qingyu persistently used the title "Master Yan Daiqing" to flaunt his presence, never allowing himself to be placed in danger, leaving Khan Qibili helpless:

"Indeed, Master."

"Your humble general admires you."

Wen Qingyu made no reply, but said: "As for Your Majesty's purpose here…"

"First, to display majesty. The realm has been at peace for three years; Your Majesty unified it through Wu Gong—it is time to tour the Four Directions and quell rebellious hearts."

"Second…"

Wen Qingyu fell silent, gazing into the distance.

Khan Qibili suddenly understood, murmuring: "Lord Li."

Lord Li Zhao Wen, Duke of Xiyicheng in the Western Regions, had known the Emperor since youth. That turning point which drew all heroes into the game's chessboard began when the young Lord Li, following the words in the then equally youthful Qin Huang's letter, led his Black Armor troops into the Western Regions.

In that chaos, he successfully evacuated craftsmen, maps, geographical records, and the Wang Yin of the Tuyuhun before their destruction.

Lord Li Zhao Wen kept the maps, craftsmen, and records—what mattered most to her at the time—and generously gifted the Tuyuhun Wang Yin to the Qin Huang.

Before the great Chen sacrifice, the Qin Huang gave that Wang Yin to Khan Qibili.

That was the beginning of the Tiele Nine Clans.

Now, the Tiele tribe—at least Khan Qibili's branch—has settled in the Central Plains.

Changed their attire; took the surname Qi.

During the ten years of unification, Lord Li Zhao Wen, as the Qin Huang's foremost war general, had not only aided him in the Western Regions with weapons, gold, and silver, but also participated in nearly every major battle. Yet after the founding of the empire, he never came to the capital for three years to report.

Those with disloyal hearts saw disloyal intent.

Only those old comrades who had followed the Qin Huang since his humble days could know such hidden truths. Wen Qingyu smiled and asked: "What do you think, General Khan Qibili, of the affairs between Your Majesty and Lord Li?"

Khan Qibili bowed solemnly: "Your humble general is an outsider; this is Your Majesty's family matter—how could I presume to speak? May the Chancellor reflect deeply."

Wen Qingyu smiled teasingly: "Very well, very well. Did Master Wen Lingjun teach you that? Or Fang Ziqiao? Or perhaps… Master Yan Daiqing?"

Khan Qibili said: "Chancellor, you know my heart. Why test me?"

Wen Qingyu smiled without answering.

Yet the Qin Huang's carriage did not proceed directly to the Duke's mansion, but traveled slowly across the vast Western city-states, where the people celebrated and soldiers surged with vigor—the Western Regions were fully pacified.

The Shi Guan realized: this was a deliberate journey, using the Duke's mansion as the core and the major Western cities as waypoints, proceeding slowly. The Shi Guan had met the Qin Huang when he was still young, and for most of his life had followed the Emperor's main army, serving as his chronicler. Their bond was close.

Concerning the Qin Huang and the man later called the greatest Duke in history, the Jade of the Empire's Western Regions—Lord Li— the Shi Guan wrote his chronicles with great caution. He once asked the Qin Huang:

At the time, the Qin Huang was twenty-eight. His legendary martial body granted long life, and having taken Hou Zhongyu's pills, his appearance had not changed.

But the journey, the battles, the governance—all were real.

The twenty-eight-year monarch sat cross-legged before a square table, wearing loose robes. A small incense burner emitted faint smoke. The Qin Huang slowly tuned his zither, his eyes like gems holding inner radiance—handsome, steady. His fingers moved with calm precision; the zither's notes rang far and clear.

The white smoke from the deep-yellow bronze brazier rose without stirring.

The Shi Guan sat quietly opposite the Emperor and asked:

"Why do you not go directly to see Lord Li?"

The Qin Huang smiled faintly and said, "... You child, your speech has become increasingly direct."

Sa Atandi replied, "Because I know Your Majesty's nature, I ask thus: if you were a tyrant, I would remain silent; if you were a hypocrite, I would speak obliquely."

The Qin Huang fell silent, even pausing his string-plucking, then sighed with a smile:

"Truly, I don't know whether you've studied too hard, or whether Mr. Master Wen He taught you too earnestly—you've actually learned a touch of his spirit."

"As for why, it's simple enough."

"I met her in our youth. Amidst chaos, I held a battle halberd, she held a bow, and we once fought side by side against the Divine General and the Great Tian Kehan of the Tujue. Now, I've come personally with my carriage guard to tell her: I've arrived."

Sa Atandi then voiced her doubt:

"The love of a Human Emperor ought to be domineering, yet if you've come here, why not see her?"

"Human Emperor..."

The Qin Huang said, "When I met her beside the road near Yicheng in our youth, I was not an emperor. The man who now seeks her is not one either."

"I wish to see her, but I will not force her to come to me."

"I merely tell her."

"I've come."

The Emperor rose and walked out; the freshly tuned strings trembled faintly in the wind of the Western Regions, sounding like the youthful run through the streets of Yicheng, hearing the iron bells beneath the upturned eaves, carrying a dampness.

The Shi Guan bowed his head for a long while.

"So it is."

She snuffed out the wick, embraced the ancient qin, and rose to leave the chamber.

Within the territory beyond Anxi City in the Western Regions, there were over a hundred cities, great and small. The Emperor led his guard, traveling one by one, inspecting local governance: rewarding the meritorious, punishing the guilty, without burdening the people.

Someone presented a sign of good omen, saying a five-colored great bird had descended from heaven and danced a prayerful dance among the trees, exquisitely magnificent. The Emperor smiled and said to those around him: "I once heard Chen Dingye, who foolishly loved omens, rewarding those who brought them with lavish grants."

"Alas, I have no gold or silver to give you."

"For a nation, talent is the true omen."

"What use do I have for such an omen?"

Thus he released the magnificent five-colored bird back into the sky, warned the man who brought it, and sent him away. The longing for favoritism among the people across the land immediately subsided; the folk's attempts to fabricate omens, following old customs to please the ruler, ceased entirely, and the people's hearts grew even more loyal.

Wherever the Qin Huang's procession passed, similar news and events occurred.

These reports were delivered by the Yuchi cavalry of the Anxi Protectorate to the seat of the Western Regions Duke's mansion, day after day; the cavalry arriving with intelligence and those returning to report were nearly visible to each other, incessant, called the "Running Horses."

In the Duke's mansion, a middle-aged man with streaks of white in his temples watched the martial cavalry, clad in ink-black armor and adorned with hardened eagle feathers of the Western Regions, depart, listening to the thundering hooves, his face twisted in distress.

A gentle voice asked: "Big brother, why wear such a look?"

Changsun Wuchou looked at the speaker, raised a hand to his forehead, and said: "What else could it be?"

"Your Majesty and the Duke..."

"Ah, ah!"

"My stomach... it hurts."

The Emperor did not come directly to the Western Regions Duke's mansion, yet after Changsun Wuchou told Li Zhao Wen of the Emperor's tour, Li Zhao Wen did not, as he had hoped, lead a reception party.

When Changsun Wuchou was thirty-three, he traveled as Li Zhao Wen's interviewer, witnessing the evolving relationship between the fourteen-year-old Li Zhao Wen and Li Guanyi. Fourteen years have passed, and their relationship has yet to progress.

Whenever he thought of this, Changsun Wuchou, newly entered into the Sixth Heaven Realm, felt stomach pain.

It was as if Yue Qianfeng were turning his stomach inside out.

Changsun Wugou was helpless too, but her perception was clearer than Changsun Wuchou's: though the Emperor had not come personally, each act since his arrival in the Western Regions, each whisper carried by the wind, carried an unmistakable, majestic aura drawing ever closer.

Changsun Wugou had a feeling: "They will meet."

Changsun Wuchou sighed: "Let it be so."

He patted his stomach and said with self-mockery:

"Shi Dalin says this is overthinking and exhaustion, longing without attainment. His medicine was forged in war's chaos—he has no cure for this. Throughout the world, unless Hou Zhongyu, who died fourteen years ago in the Fire Qilin Palace, were to revive, there is no cure."

Changsun Wugou said: "Hou Zhongyu?"

"The legendary alchemist of the former dynasty, whom the Shi Guan judged as 'morally flawed, supreme in sorcery, with a quest for the Dao so fierce he swore to kill his master'?"

Changsun Wuchou said: "Yes. My Fire Qilin Army rose from nothing, and even today's military medical and pill systems are almost entirely built upon what Hou Zhongyu left behind."

"He was not an unparalleled genius like Zhang Ziyong, the Green Robe Guest."

"Yet he was obsessively relentless, deconstructing Zhang Ziyong's methods until they became usable by all. The Emperor believes one must not judge a man simplistically: Hou Zhongyu's crimes belong to his age, his merits to a thousand generations."

"The Emperor built the Lingyan Pavilion to record the merits of the chaotic era's heroes."

"Though Hou Zhongyu was the Emperor's first great enemy, he still rests at the highest place in the Lingyan Pavilion, painted by the Emperor's own hand, alongside Beiding Gong Yue Qianfeng and others."

"Those who study medicine or sorcery in later generations may learn his knowledge, but never his character."

"As for that old rascal Shi Dalin..."

"He now stays in Jingcheng, attending to Master Yan Daiqing's health."

"During the years of chaos, the Fire Qilin Army rose gradually—not only due to the Emperor's brilliance, the people's courage, or the strategists' cunning—but also because Master Yan Daiqing, managing affairs from behind, contributed immensely."

"Master Yan Daiqing's body was once frail, but he has gradually recovered."

Changsun Wuchou pressed his abdomen and sighed deeply: "Pain! Pain! Yet when will this pain in my belly, intestines, and stomach be resolved? What medicine can cure it?"

Changsun Wugou gently nudged her brother.

"Big brother, that remark is impolite."

Changsun Wuchou was about to speak again when the door opened and an old man walked in. Changsun Wuchou's expression changed; he rose and bowed: "Old Duke..."

The visitor was none other than the former Duke, Li Shude.

This former Duke, who in the chaos had shone brightly, refusing to yield even before Lu Youxian and the Qin Wang, had lived a comfortable life since stepping down. Now, he was more spirited than five or six years ago, his gaze sharp, his beard and hair meticulously groomed.

He gestured for Changsun Wuchou to rise, and asked about what he had just said. Changsun Wuchou had no choice but to recount it.

After listening, the Old Duke Li Shude sighed deeply and said:

"Childish!"

"Now make way, make way!"

Changsun Wuchou froze and said: "Old Duke, what are you doing?"

Li Shude laughed long: "This old man will go fetch the medicine for you."

He passed between Changsun Wuchou and Changsun Wujie, walked past three halls, and entered the main hall of the Duke's residence, where he saw Li Zhaowen standing with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at numerous scrolls as if deep in thought. Li Shude then spoke directly, asking:

"What coy act are you putting on here, second child?"

Li Zhaowen turned and said: "Father."

Li Shude said: "Why have you refused to go pay respects to Your Majesty for three years?"

Li Zhaowen fell silent, then laid out in full the reasons he was unwilling to go see Li Guanyi, and said composedly: "I am a duke of the realm, a famed general of this age—how could I remain within the palace?"

Li Shude stroked his beard and said: "But hasn't Your Majesty already come?"

Li Zhaowen paused.

Li Shude feigned surprise: "No one said you have to return to the imperial palace with Your Majesty."

"Hasn't Your Majesty already come?"

He pointed at the Duke's residence and said: "Is it that my house isn't spacious enough, or that there aren't enough beds at home?"

Li Zhaowen hesitated, then said: "But that is Your Majesty, and I am a subject…"

Li Shude burst into laughter and said: "You already forced your father to give up the position of duke; in your youth you led the Black Armor troops to seize the royal seal of the Tuyuhun. How is it that when it comes to your own turn, you grow coy instead?"

"Then let your father put it plainly."

"If it were a duke entering the palace, that would indeed be improper."

"But if it were an empress or imperial consort, who wields a three-foot sword, establishes unprecedented merit, and guards the borders for the nation—would that not have its own grandeur? What are you thinking?"

Li Shude directly shoved his daughter's shoulder and rebuked:

"In life there are so many regrets—at this point are you still caring about the historian's brush? Scholars lightly judge those in the tomb, while those in the tomb laugh at the scholars' pettiness."

"Baitiwu is already outside—go, go!"

The woman who was a master of the Bazhongtian Sect was actually pushed forward a step by her own father. The hesitation on her face gave way to resolve, and just like in those years, full of high spirits, she exhaled and said: "Good!"

The thunder of hoofbeats erupted as the dragon horse galloped off.

Li Shude watched his daughter's figure, shook his head and sighed. The famed general Xia Hou, who had always followed Li Shude, said: "Old Duke, you are…"

Li Shude sighed: "I am no longer the duke, A-Duan."

"Just call me Shude."

"At this moment, I no longer have to consider the clan, no longer have to consider the State of Ying. Heaven and conscience—everything I need to do is simply to help my daughter. She has been headstrong and self-assured since childhood, but sometimes she gets awkward instead."

"Those whose nature is firm and self-strong often cannot get past themselves."

"I am her father—I ought to help her along."

"Besides…"

A strange expression crept across Li Shude's face: "Anyway, Your Majesty is surnamed Li too—my family isn't losing out either way…"

The gentle smile on Xia Hou's face froze.

"???"

He nearly blurted out: "Didn't you just say, heaven and conscience, that it was for your daughter's future?"

Li Shude said playfully:

"Heaven and conscience—it's not my conscience."

Xia Hou finally couldn't hold back and kicked Li Shude in the waist. Li Shude tumbled to the ground, but he wasn't angry and didn't get up; he just lay there, laughing uproariously—disheveled yet triumphant, triumphant yet a mess—spreading his arms, white hair and white beard, and said:

"Scholars of later ages, how will they speak of me?"

"Hahaha—even lying down counts as a win."

The seventh day of Qin Huang Li Guanyi's tour of the Western Regions.

Li Zhaowen, Duke of the Western Regions, left the Duke's residence and led the Black Armor Army forth. The thunder of hooves shook like Lei Ting, drawing the gaze of all under heaven. The entire Western Regions stirred, awaiting this meeting.

And on this day, Qin Huang, by the roadside, saw an old friend.

?? There's a nice bonus chapter—Beijing Film Academy · Online Literature Derivative Co-Creation Competition Outstanding Work · "Chen Qingyan's Transmission of the Dharma" · by Gong Yujie, thanks to the artist teacher. The original image is too large to put in the bonus chapter, so it's posted in the comments section~