Just Being a Childish Person for Him

Jiang Yu, bathed in light, had already donned a yellow robe, stirring murmurs among the onlookers, who instinctively leaned back in awe.

The flow of time differed between the two worlds.

By now, in the imperial capital, it was the dawn of the third day.

Though the Celestial Trials were of great importance, state affairs still demanded attention. Emperor Jingtai had toiled late into the night and, upon waking, realized he had fallen asleep in the imperial study.

Outside the study, a purple-robed eunuch, hearing the emperor stir, hurriedly handed him a hot towel to wipe his face.

"Your Majesty is awake."

"How fares the Realm Map?" Emperor Jingtai asked, his voice muffled by the towel.

He had assigned shifts to monitor the Realm Map, ensuring any anomalies were reported to him immediately.

"The Crown Prince, heeding Your Majesty's teachings, has been promoting the glory of our Great Yu in the Celestial City. It shows his heart remains devoted to the empire," the eunuch said, bowing his head.

"How, exactly?"

Emperor Jingtai ignored the flattery.

"His Highness has... discussed with the other Celestials and decided to ascend the throne," the eunuch coughed lightly. "He intends to establish a new Great Yu."

Emperor Jingtai: "?"

He rose and stepped out of the study with the eunuch, lifting his gaze to the Realm Map just in time to witness—

Meanwhile, in the Celestial Hall, Jiang Yu stood clad in his yellow robe:

"From this day forth, the Celestials shall have no mere chieftain—only an Emperor! The title shall belong to the mightiest among us, with the Divine Sword as the sovereign's symbol."

His tone brimmed with excitement and ambition for the future.

"What’s the difference between an Emperor and a chieftain?"

Some Celestials, whose innate potential barely reached the blue tier and thus lacked the right to participate in deliberations, were baffled.

The Celestial City had never known an emperor; none understood what it entailed.

"A chieftain governs only Celestial affairs, but an Emperor rules as the sovereign of all three cities—bound to the welfare of the heavens, the earth, and the mortal realm. Should any wish to contest the title, we may even entertain a dual-emperorship for a time."

Jiang Yu appeared magnanimous, as if unburdened by selfish motives.

"Bound to all three cities? So we’d have to manage the mortals in the human settlements too?"

"No, no, being Emperor sounds far too exhausting. Hard pass."

"Since Jiang Yu has such grand vision, let the capable bear the weight. This golden burden is yours to shoulder."

The Celestials waved their hands dismissively. They already followed Jiang Yu’s lead.

To them, whether Jiang Yu extended his rule to the Earth and Mortal Cities mattered little. This "reform" only meant his duties grew heavier.

They thought Jiang Yu was oddly kind for proposing it.

"Emperor Jiang, the Earth City is manageable—subdue their strongest, and the rest will obey. But the Mortal City...?"

"Indeed. The Mortal City is vast, leaderless, just scattered villages. They revere us, but submission is another matter."

"And even if they submit, how would we govern them?"

Most Celestials prioritized their own cultivation.

They’d elected a chieftain precisely to delegate trivialities and remain unshackled.

Besides, Jiang Yu’s plan did promise better defenses against the impending celestial calamity.

"Let the Earth City manage them. We need only play the part of worshipped deities," Jiang Yu smiled faintly. "As for the mortals... When the calamity strikes in fifty years, their helplessness will drive them to beg for our protection."

---

Mortal Realm, King’s Village.

Autumn arrived swiftly, and with it, the harvest. A crisp breeze rippled through the wheat fields, painting waves of gold.

Villagers gathered in small groups, tools in hand, ready to reap.

Yet as they reached the fields, they spotted the young blacksmith Li Mo standing on the narrow path.

The village elder chuckled. "Starting early? No need to wait for us to tend your own plot."

"I feared I’d finish too fast—done before midmorning, leaving me idle to help you," Li Mo retorted, sweeping his wooden staff through the wild grass like a solitary martial master.

The crowd laughed. Children darted to his side, clamoring to borrow his "fine sword" for play.

"Ah, I’ll grant your strength, lad, but experience trumps youth. My skill’s sharper."

"Then let’s test that. ‘Talking less, doing more,’ as they say."

Unlike usual, Li Mo didn’t brush it off with a joke.

"A contest!"

"Elder, back in your day, you were the best reaper in the village. Strength alone won’t win this."

"Actions over words!"

The villagers egged them on.

The elder and the youth each took a sickle and vanished into the wheat, carving golden trails. Neither could see the other.

Gradually, the elder no longer heard Li Mo’s movements. He’s fallen behind, he thought smugly.

But soon, the children’s shouts reached him: "Li Mo wins!"

The elder dropped his sickle and hurried out—only to find Li Mo already at the finish line, barely sweating, his sun-bronzed face alight with triumph.

"Age does slow a man... But how’d you move so fast?"

"Li Mo dashed through like a gopher! Straight from start to end!"

The villagers marveled. Even wild boars couldn’t ravage a field that swiftly.

A worthy rival (the elder) + skeptics (the kids) + stunned spectators = a flawless display of prowess!

No one understands showmanship like I do.

Li Mo, thoroughly pleased, waved it off. "The Celestial Maiden taught me a bit of martial arts. Turns out, it works wonders for harvesting."

"The Celestial Maiden taught you?"

"Wait, she knows how to wield a sickle?"

"Heh, she masters hammers too. What can’t the Celestials do?" Li Mo puffed his chest proudly.

"Teach us, Li Mo!"

"We want to learn!"

The moment farming was involved, enthusiasm surged. Delaying the harvest for this? Worth it.

Hone the blade, and the wheat falls faster—even villagers grasped that logic.

Nearby, Ying Bing watched Li Mo surrounded by admirers and smiled.

No wonder he’d insisted she adapt martial techniques for hammers and farm tools.

Swords were deadlier, but the villagers would never use them.

Their lives revolved around the soil. Teach them skills tied to survival, and they’d practice tirelessly, without prompting.

He’d always been clever.

Only around her did he play the fool.