Chapter 878

Pan Yun turned around, and the Embroidered Uniform Guards fell silent, instinctively looking toward Zhu Qiyu.

Zhu Qiyu indeed raised his hand to stop the Embroidered Uniform Guards from rebuking her, then ordered someone to bring a ladder, climbed onto the roof, and joined Pan Yun in gazing toward the city's outskirts.

Here, only the brilliant explosions of firearms could be seen in midair, but the noise was deafening, echoing throughout the city, even drowning out the soldiers' battle cries.

Zhu Qiyu glanced back and ordered the Embroidered Uniform Guards to fall back, then fall back again.

Only when no one remained nearby did he ask Pan Yun: "They all say you were the one who brought back His Majesty."

Pan Yun made a soft "hmm."

"Before that, you went into the enemy's command tent to rescue His Majesty and met him."

Pan Yun nodded.

Zhu Qiyu: "With your abilities, since you met His Majesty, why couldn't you save him?"

Pan Yun: "Didn't you ask the Embroidered Uniform Guards and scouts who went with you?"

Zhu Qiyu's shoulders, which had been straight, slumped slightly; he pursed his lips and said: "My elder brother has always been braver than I…"

"Not necessarily," Pan Yun said softly. "You dared come here at this moment—that proves your courage is no less than his. You even dared to step onto the battlefield, prepared to take your own life if captured. Your valor surpasses his."

Zhu Qiyu looked up at her, his eyes holding a nervousness he himself had never noticed: "You once declared I would be an emperor remembered through history. Can I truly be a good emperor?"

Pan Yun's lips curled slightly as she affirmed: "You can!"

Zhu Qiyu quietly exhaled, then asked: "Master Pan, will you help me?"

Pan Yun: "I am merely a Daoist Priest. How can I assist you?"

Zhu Qiyu had already thought of this before coming: "How about you become my State Preceptor?"

Pan Yun: "If I am made State Preceptor, what will the court ministers think? What will the Zhang family of Long Hushan think?"

Zhu Qiyu said: "The Zhang family of Long Hushan is no concern. The True Person Zhang is dead; the Zhang clan is in mourning and has no capacity to interfere in court affairs. Besides, the imperial house has an agreement with the Zhangs—they have no authority over whom my Zhu family appoints as State Preceptor."

"As for the court ministers, you need not worry. Your abilities have been witnessed by all soldiers. You have rendered great service; to appoint you as State Preceptor is fully deserved." Zhu Qiyu noticed Pan Yun's expression was calm—not as if she feared opposition from ministers, but as if she herself had no desire to accept the role.

He paused, then asked: "Don't you want to be State Preceptor?"

Pan Yun: "What benefit would I gain by becoming State Preceptor?"

Zhu Qiyu: "You came from afar to aid the nation in crisis—I assumed…"

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"That you sought something—that you craved power?"

Zhu Qiyu fell silent.

Pan Yun pointed to her chest: "The Dao's backlash nearly killed me."

Zhu Qiyu stared at her, his lips moving but no words coming out.

Pan Yun: "The Duke of Ying has retired, no longer commands troops or participates in governance. Though he knew it meant certain death, at seventy years old, he still mounted his horse to draw the enemy away from His Majesty, fighting until his strength gave out. He did it for the emperor—but not only for the emperor."

"I am far inferior to the Duke of Ying, yet I know: defending the borders, protecting home and country—every common man bears responsibility."

Zhu Qiyu's heart stirred; his fist clenched slightly. He stepped forward, eyes fixed intently on her: "Becoming State Preceptor is how you protect home and country!"

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow at him and said: "Yeshi has lost his leverage. You stepped in at a crisis moment; if you hold the border, you will secure the Great Ming's throne. The nation will be saved."

Zhu Qiyu shook his head, speaking gravely: "That's only a shell. The Great Ming has suffered this calamity—if we do not break through, the northern frontier will know no peace again. Luchuan has erupted in rebellion again. General Wang Ji now holds the southwest with his army, but he is old. If he… the southern frontier will descend into chaos. Worse still, years of war have burdened the people with excessive taxes; floods and droughts alternate in Jiangnan; Deng Maoqi's rebellion in Fujian remains unquelled, and now Jiangnan is following suit. If word spreads that His Majesty is dead, rebellions across the Great Ming Realm may…"

Pan Yun murmured: "They will blaze up like wild grass meeting a heavenly fire—impossible to extinguish."

Zhu Qiyu nodded vigorously, gazing at her with desperate hope: "So please, State Preceptor, help me. I… I am not as wise or decisive as His Majesty. Even he… I fear I cannot control court affairs or govern the realm well."

If Pan Yun had not so firmly declared he would become an emperor remembered through history, he had no confidence in becoming emperor.

It was too hard. Too terrifying.

Since Yu Qian had received the Empress Dowager's edict, he had been restless. If Yu Qian had not constantly urged him to keep his eyes open, to never watch the nation fall apart, he would never have accepted the throne.

Zhu Qiyu had been raised since childhood as a virtuous prince.

His lifelong aspiration was to be like Prince Xiang.

Because Pan Yun was the first to declare he would become emperor, his trust in her surpassed even that in Yu Qian and the other ministers.

Moreover, Pan Yun nearly died trying to save His Majesty.

She knew His Majesty could not be saved, knew he would inherit the throne, yet still risked her life to save him, giving one final effort. How could such a loyal, patriotic person not move him? If all officials accompanying the imperial carriage had such conviction, would His Majesty have…

Zhu Qiyu shook his head, dispelling the hypothetical from his mind.

He knew they had failed in duty—but they were driven by desperation.

The main responsibility for the imperial campaign lay with His Majesty.

From Chen Xun's and the Embroidered Uniform Guards' reports, His Majesty could have avoided this tragedy had he merely listened to his ministers' advice.

Yet the ministers' self-interest and avoidance of risk—especially the initial collective silence of the military commanders—left Zhu Qiyu chilled. He desperately needed someone by his side to give him strength.

He had thought of Yu Qian—but the first face to surface in his mind was Pan Yun's.

He stared at Pan Yun with intense eyes and promised: "If you agree to become State Preceptor, I will spare no effort to aid your cultivation, to help you attain the Immortal Path."

Pan Yun couldn't help smiling: "Before coming, didn't you ask the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and the Laozu Sect? Do you know what I cultivate?"

Zhu Qiyu: "Merit."

Pan Yun: "Those who cultivate merit, if they drain state resources for their own cultivation, invite heavenly retribution."

Zhu Qiyu scratched his head. Then what? But Pan Yun had already nodded: "Still, you're right. If I am fortunate enough in this life to attain the Immortal Path, the only path is to serve the nation. Merit is human faith—is there any role better suited to earn the people's faith than State Preceptor?"

Zhu Qiyu's eyes lit up: "You accept?"

Pan Yun nodded: "I accept."

She pointed to the horizon: "Because he broke the rules first. The Wala have a State Preceptor—how can the Great Ming not?"

Zhu Qiyu followed her finger and saw a golden bowl suspended in midair, radiating golden light as it blocked incoming cannons.

Zhu Qiyu frowned: "That's the Wala lama who wounded our State Preceptor?"

"Yes," Pan Yun nodded.

Zhu Qiyu felt he wasn't inviting the State Preceptor—he was playing house with them. Pan Yun had agreed because of the ambition of "if the Oirats have one, how can Great Ming not have one."

Zhu Qiyu looked at Pan Yun, who was younger than him, and sighed. Forget it, as long as he could invite her, it didn't matter how he did it.