Gathering of the World's Talents in the Capital, Turning the Competition into a Mass Audition Variety Show

Shen Xue gazed at Wang Hao, her eyes filled with growing complexity.

Initially, she had only felt disgust and wariness toward this Emperor of the Great Zhou, believing him to be domineering, unpredictable, and overwhelmingly lustful—hardly a righteous figure.

But having made it this far, she had to admit that although this man was machiavellian, shameless, full of deceit, and extremely brazen in his methods...

He at least dared to shoulder the burden, and he truly could.

Facing the impending chaos, his thoughts were not of self-preservation or retreat, but of how to twist all available forces together.

Even if his methods were unsightly, his direction was right.

Such a person was very dangerous.

And it was hard to continue defining him by simple likes and dislikes.

Yun Meng was also looking at Wang Hao.

She still felt this dog emperor needed a good beating.

Yet, whenever a major event occurred, he acted as their backbone. You knew perfectly well he was scheming, you knew he never made a losing deal, yet you had to admit—following his rhythm seemed to genuinely increase your chances of survival.

As for Ren Mingyue, her thoughts went even deeper.

She saw more than just Wang Hao's ambition.

She saw the almost coldly cruel execution behind that ambition.

This man was not some ordinary emperor she could casually test, maneuver around, or bargain with.

The Ren family had already boarded his ship, becoming chips in his grand layout.

Wang Hao took in the reactions of the three women, his heart completely calm.

Winning their hearts?

A little was enough.

He never believed in love at first sight or eternal devotion from a single battle.

Those were just tales to trick little girls in storybooks.

What truly mattered was not a momentary emotional fluctuation, but psychological dependence formed through interests, situations, habits, and critical moments.

As long as they started to think—

"This guy is annoying, but he's truly reliable when it counts."

Then he had already won half the battle.

And the other half never relied on romance.

It relied on continuing to set the board.

Thinking of this, Wang Hao suddenly stood up and walked to the high terrace outside the hall.

The night wind howled, and the imperial city was a sea of lights.

In the distant sky, the faint crimson hue in the direction of the Blood Moon still lingered.

He stood with his hands behind his back, overlooking the entire imperial capital, a smile slowly curling the corners of his lips.

"Wei Zhongxian."

"This old servant is here."

"Draft a decree."

"Effective immediately, the Great Zhou will prepare to host the First Martial Arts Tournament. In seven days, we will re-establish the Prodigy Roll to evaluate the outstanding talents of all domains and recruit the world's geniuses."

"Anyone who participated in suppressing the evil at Yan Mountain will be given priority in the ranking evaluation."

"Anyone willing to enter the Demon Suppression Alliance's reserve sequence will gain access to the secret vault for exchanges, military formation trials, intelligence clearance, and opportunities for titles and rewards."

Wei Zhongxian's spirit roused: "This old servant obeys the decree!"

Behind them, Bai Zhantang's mouth twitched as he listened.

He finally understood what Wang Hao meant earlier by "follow-up compensation."

So this was the trap waiting for them.

First, use them for free, then use their battle records at Yan Mountain to boost their worth, and then launch the Martial Arts Tournament, establish the Prodigy Roll, and create the alliance reserve sequence...

After this entire sequence, young prodigies like them who had originally come to fight for fortuitous encounters would probably be swept up—reputations and all—into the Great Zhou's system.

Rong Xiaotian scratched his head: "So we risked our lives earlier just to earn the qualification to keep selling our lives?"

Gu Han said indifferently: "It seems so."

Xiao Chen fell silent for a long time before finally looking up, his eyes glazed over as he spat out a sentence:

"Is it too late for me to back out now?"

Wang Hao turned to look at him, his smile warm and genial.

"Of course it's not too late."

"I never force others against their will."

"It's just that the Yan Mountain visual recordings, newspaper interviews, heroic deeds, prerequisite qualifications for the Prodigy Roll, Demon Suppression Alliance registration, and the expectations of the world's public opinion might have already started operating."

"If you back out now, people outside will probably think you were bought off by the Heavenly Pavilion, or that you fear the Blood Moon and lack the courage to take responsibility."

"But it matters not. I understand you."

Xiao Chen: "..."

At this moment, he finally profoundly understood what it meant to stab someone with a smile.

Bai Zhantang patted his shoulder, speaking with earnest gravity:

"Accept your fate."

"We've already come this far. We, the Ten Great Prodigies of the Great Zhou—oh wait, we should now be called the Eastern Wasteland Prodigy Reserves—have completely sold ourselves out just to participate in this tournament."

As soon as these words came out, everyone's expressions became exceptionally colorful.

They sighed inwardly, "Is it easy to toil like beasts of burden for this dog emperor?"

Yet they couldn't even refute it.

Because the facts seemed to be exactly as stated.

Standing on the high terrace, listening to their grumbling, Wang Hao's mood was better than ever.

Nightmare, the Blood Moon Demonic Sect, the Heavenly Dao Alliance, the Heavenly Pavilion...

They were all troublesome.

But trouble also meant opportunity.

In troubled times, fists and blades could kill.

But what truly conquered the world had always been order, rules, righteous causes, and layers of pre-laid webs.

He gazed in the direction of the Blood Moon, his eyes turning slightly cold, but his smile deepening.

"Xie Wujiu, Blood Moon Demonic Sect, Heavenly Dao Alliance..."

"Don't be in a rush."

"I will deal with you all, one by one."

...

After the battle at the Yan Mountain Secret Realm, the winds in the capital were hotter than in previous years.

Not the weather.

But the people.

They talked about Wang Hao in the teahouses, they talked about Wang Hao in the taverns. Even the old man selling candied haws on the street could passionately recount the famous recorded scene of "His Majesty opening his brow battle mark and suppressing ancient evils with a raise of his hand" while dipping his fruit in sugar.

And under this circumstance where public opinion was almost swallowed whole by Wang Hao, the Great Zhou imperial court struck while the iron was hot, releasing another piece of news that shook the Eastern Wasteland—

Following the Beauty Roll, the Great Zhou's First Martial Arts Tournament and the Prodigy Roll were officially launched.

On the day the edict was issued, all four directions were stirred.

Sect disciples, aristocratic heirs, ruthless figures from the borderlands, eccentric rogue cultivators, young people from hidden lineages, and even certain "destined child reserves" who loved to emerge during chaotic times, all flocked over upon hearing the news.

After all, this was not just a competition.

Behind it stood the currently soaring Emperor of the Great Zhou, Wang Hao, the Great Zhou imperial court that had just finished the Yan Mountain Secret Realm battle, and a visibly forming momentum of a "Co-Lord of Demon Suppression."

Everyone knew that this Martial Arts Tournament was not just about rankings.

It could also dictate the providence, resources, prestige, and stances for the next few decades.

Before coming, many people had already rehearsed their grand entrances into the capital in their minds.

For example, standing with hands behind their backs in white robes before the city gates, making countless people gasp in awe, "What a young grandmaster."

For example, indifferently announcing their lineage during the drawing of lots, shocking the Ministry of Rites officials into dropping their teacups.

Or perhaps suppressing their opponents with a few simple strikes on the arena, achieving instant fame, shaking the capital, and conveniently catching the eye of some holy maiden, noble lady, or sect elder, thereby skyrocketing to success.

However—

Ideals were abundant.

Reality was very Great Zhou.

The capital, outside the southern city gate.

A dragon-like stream of people snaked all the way from the official road to the relay station entrance, a massive, dense crowd resembling a boiling pot of mixed prodigies.

Some carried sabers on their backs, some bore swords, some rode exotic beasts, some flew on shuttles, and two borderland youths practicing body-tempering arts forcibly squeezed out two human-shaped paths in the line simply because they were too massive.

And in the most conspicuous spot at the city gate stood a giant sign, upon which a line of flamboyant, dancing characters was written:

Registration Office for the Great Zhou's Number One Martial Arts Tournament—Please take a number, queue up, and fill out the forms in order.

Below was a line of small text:

Those who cut in line will be disqualified. Troublemakers will be sent to the Western Depot for a detailed chat.

Silence.

Many young people who had come to the capital for the first time, still carrying the lofty airs of heaven-chosen geniuses, almost lost their composure on the spot.

Fill out... forms?

Aren't we supposed to just register and draw lots?

And what is taking a number?

What place is the Western Depot?

A young rogue cultivator nearby, who had been queuing for two days and whose eyes were completely glazed over, spoke faintly, Brother, first time here?

The man frowned. What if it is?

The rogue cultivator raised a finger and pointed at the long tables ahead.

See that? First, you get the Pre-examination Document for Competition Qualifications.

Then, you fill out the Bone Age and Cultivation Declaration Form.

Next, the Summary of Past Battle Records.

After that, there's the Statement of Family Background and Lineage Origins.

Finally, you sign the Confirmation of Assuming Own Risk of Life and Death During the Competition, While the Great Zhou Imperial Court Retains Final Interpretation Rights for Any Competition-Related Disputes.

The man's eyelids twitched violently as he listened. ...Is this still a martial arts competition?

The rogue cultivator sighed.

I thought so too at first.

Later, I realized it feels more like I'm taking the imperial civil service exam.

At this moment, by the city gate, the temporary tournament affairs office jointly established by the Ministry of Rites, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the Eastern Depot, and the Western Depot was bustling with feverish activity.

Officials from the Ministry of Rites were responsible for registration, verifying documents, and pasting number tags.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard was in charge of measuring bone age, testing cultivation levels, examining root bones, and making preliminary combat power classifications.

The guards of the Eastern Depot recorded special physiques, abnormal cultivation method fluctuations, and lists of suspected dangerous individuals.

The Western Depot's job was even simpler.

They were specifically in charge of seeing who rubbed them the wrong way... no, they were responsible for maintaining order, screening out troublemakers, and providing psychological counseling alongside physical persuasion.

The entire process was seamless and highly organized.

So organized that it made one's scalp tingle.

A richly dressed young master from an aristocratic family in the Southern Ridge finally squeezed to the very front. He slammed his jade identity token onto the table with a haughty expression.

Direct descendant of the Gu family of the Southern Ridge, Gu Chengyu.

The petty official from the Ministry of Rites didn't even look up.

Mhm, go fill out the forms. Next.

Gu Chengyu froze. Did you not hear me clearly?

I said, I am a direct descendant of the Gu family of the Southern Ridge!

The official finally looked up at him, his expression as calm as someone who had seen it all.

I heard you clearly.

Third table on the left, get three forms. Write neatly; if it's messy, it will be sent back for a rewrite.

Gu Chengyu's face stiffened.

Do you know what the Gu family means?

The official lowered his head to flip through a ledger, writing as he casually replied, It means you probably have a profound family heritage, so don't leave the Overview of Family Martial Arts and Divine Abilities section blank.

Gu Chengyu: ...

In the crowd lining up behind him, someone couldn't hold back and burst into laughter.

Immediately after, the laughter spread as if it were contagious.

Gu Chengyu's face turned green and pale by turns. However, not far away stood two guards from the Western Depot, watching him with professional smiles.

His lips twitched, but in the end, he didn't dare to blow up.

He could only go fetch the forms with a dark expression.

This scene had already occurred more than once today.

And the even more brilliant parts were yet to come.

On the other side of the capital, in the Heaven-Chosen Reception Quarter temporarily cleared out for this tournament.

Xiao Chen, Bai Zhantang, Gu Han, Rong Xiaotian, and Ye Guyun were sitting by the window on the second floor, drinking tea while watching the grand spectacle on the street.

Bai Zhantang was fanning himself with a newly replaced folding fan, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Brilliant, truly brilliant.

Back when we first entered the capital and were tricked into selling our lives to the imperial court by a contract, I was still feeling indignant. Now it's great, it's finally someone else's turn.

Rong Xiaotian grinned. When those bastards first arrived, they all had their noses in the air. Now they're lining up like quails. So satisfying.

Xiao Chen looked downstairs expressionlessly.

A heaven-chosen from a major sect in the Northern Lands was arguing with a Ministry of Rites official over the issue of the Preliminary Loyalty Screening.

What do you mean by Preliminary Loyalty Screening? I'm not enlisting in the army!

The official smiled and replied, You misunderstand, sir. This is a part of the martial virtue assessment. It primarily evaluates whether the participant possesses a basic concept of order, stress tolerance, and their stance against evil entities.

May I ask, if the nation faces a disaster, would you be willing to lend a hand within your capabilities?

May I ask, do you acknowledge evil entities as the public enemy of the world?

May I ask, have you ever colluded with evil paths, privately sold forbidden artifacts, or maliciously harmed civilians?

The heaven-chosen's face grew darker and darker as he was questioned.

What does this have to do with the competition?

The official's smile remained. It has a lot to do with it. His Majesty has stated that the Great Zhou's Number One Martial Arts Tournament is not just selecting those who can fight, but more importantly, talents who can be of use to the world.

Bai Zhantang slapped the table as he listened.

Masterful!

This dog... This Majesty is truly masterful!

By hosting a competition, he conveniently filters out who is one of us, who is a troublemaker, who can be won over, and who should be guarded against.

Gu Han said faintly, That's not all.

He looked at the young martial artists on the street carrying large and small bags, eating and staying in inns while queueing, and said, With their arrival, the inns, restaurants, apothecaries, and weapon shops in the capital have all seen a boom in business. Tax revenues have increased as well.

Bai Zhantang was startled, then drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

He even factored in the consumer spending?

Ye Guyun said calmly, That sounds exactly like him.

Xiao Chen remained silent for a moment before suddenly speaking up. He is not hosting a martial arts tournament.

He is conducting a census of all the young martial artists in the world.

The group instantly fell silent for a moment.

Then, they all simultaneously felt—

That was indeed the case.

The side hall of the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

Wang Hao was leaning against a soft couch, looking at the first batch of data memorials compiled overnight by the Ministry of Rites, the Ministry of War, and the Eastern and Western Depots, in a rather good mood.

From the Northern Lands sects, one hundred and seventy-three people have arrived. Among them, forty-two are above the True Intent realm, and seven are suspected to have special bloodlines. Their sect loyalty is extremely high, making them difficult to poach.

From the Southern Ridge aristocratic families, there is a total of two hundred and nine people. Their resource supply is generally stable, but their internal factions are complex, making them possible to divide and conquer.

From the borderlands, there are over three hundred rogue cultivators and wandering knights combined. Their overall backgrounds are mixed, their survival skills are extremely strong, they have the best stress tolerance, and their sense of belonging to the imperial court is low—

Many people from hidden aristocratic families and hidden worlds have also come. Added to the heaven-chosen who arrived in the capital earlier, there are no less than ten thousand people.

Seeing this, Wang Hao's eyes lit up.

This is good.

These borderland rogue cultivators and wandering knights are the most suitable for pacification... no, the most suitable for absorption and cultivation. Just look at Xiao Chen and his group of ten; what excellent beasts of burden they make.

Ren Mingyue, who was standing to the side, felt the corners of her eyes twitch as she listened.