Wouldn't You Like To

Xiniu Hezhou, the Xuánwǔ Kingdom.

Gloomy clouds shrouded the capital of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom, and from time to time, a chilly wind swept through the city.

Within the imperial palace, in the Hall of State Affairs.

Li Junzi looked even thinner and more haggard than before. She stood by the threshold with a light blanket draped over her shoulders. A gust of wind blew past, lifting a few strands of her untied white hair.

The moment Zhao Xuan, ruler of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom, saw this, he spoke up.

“Teacher Li, the wind outside is strong.”

Li Junzi stood straight. After hearing Zhao Xuan’s concern from behind her, she fell silent for a moment before smiling.

“It’s nothing. Ling Yu always sends me plenty of pills on time—she practically wants me to eat pills instead of meals. It’s not easy for me to fall ill even if I wanted to.”

Zhao Xuan respectfully walked over to Li Junzi and advised her earnestly, “Teacher Li, you are busy with state affairs and rarely have time to rest. My advice is useless, I know, but neither of us is a cultivator. How can we withstand such an excess of mental strain?”

Li Junzi wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself and glanced at Zhao Xuan’s deferential expression.

“Your Majesty needn’t be so humble before me.”

Zhao Xuan answered at once. “I am not being humble before you, Teacher. I am merely humble before your talent and courage.”

Those were his sincere feelings.

Wrapped in the blanket, Li Junzi walked back into the hall. She then gestured for Zhao Xuan to sit.

“There is no need to put it that way. I am only expending some mental energy; it costs me little. But Your Majesty has placed an entire kingdom on your shoulders. If we are speaking of courage… I am ashamed to say that I cannot compare.”

Zhao Xuan obediently took his seat, then spoke in a firm voice.

“I believe only that you can succeed, Senior, and I believe this matter can allow the Xuánwǔ Kingdom to leap through the dragon gate and bring all nations to pay tribute!”

Hearing this, Li Junzi’s gaze instinctively fell upon the enormous stack of documents piled beside the table.

The new reforms of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom had already achieved remarkable results, and Zhao Xuan’s full support was naturally indispensable.

The three great aristocratic clans had been slaughtered, while the blades of war had risen within the kingdom itself.

The name of the Tyrant would remain etched in the annals of history.

The road to implementing the new reforms had been paved with the blood of the aristocratic clans.

Zhao Xuan had wielded the heaviest blade, while Li Junzi had struck the most vital points.

The resistance to the reforms would not disappear simply because Li Yingling and Lin Luoyu had left. It was a path that constantly wore down the spirit and allowed no relaxation.

The cultivators’ affairs had merely given Li Junzi the first opening.

Zhao Xuan had become the Tyrant, while Li Junzi had naturally become the Blood Confucian Chancellor.

Yet the new reforms had also pushed the Xuánwǔ Kingdom to the pinnacle of literary prosperity.

The ideas of every school of thought surged forth through this upheaval, and even the aristocratic clans were swept along by the tide.

The new reforms had already been fully implemented throughout the Xuánwǔ Kingdom, becoming an irreversible trend.

The upheaval caused by the reforms was immense, and many people had guessed that Li Junzi intended to accomplish this feat and attain the position of a Sub-Sage.

Most of them did not believe that Li Junzi could become a Sub-Sage.

This was not because they thought the reforms could not be implemented.

It was simply that implementing the reforms alone—even if they created a different beginning and gave the common people more opportunities—could not truly change the era.

Otherwise, there would have been dozens more Sub-Sages under Heaven by now.

The deeds were useful, but they were too small in scale.

And once the reforms had been completely established, Li Junzi remained, just as they had predicted, in the Grand Confucian Realm.

Some people lamented this, while others sneered.

The objects of their ridicule were not only Li Junzi, but also the Tyrant Zhao Xuan, who had forcibly pushed the reforms through. Their judgments were remarkably uniform:

“You? You think you can cling to a Sub-Sage’s coattails ahead of time? You picked the wrong leg to hug!”

As for the opinions circulating outside, Li Junzi did not care. Zhao Xuan did not care either.

Because what had truly made Zhao Xuan raise his butcher’s knife was not the so-called new reforms.

If it had only been about the reforms, Zhao Xuan would never have acted with such decisiveness, nor would he have left himself without any room to retreat.

After all, Zhao Xuan was already a ruler whose white hair continued to spread and whose movements had grown sluggish. Naturally, he no longer possessed the reckless drive of his youth.

What had truly made Zhao Xuan act without the slightest hesitation was the great undertaking that would follow the reforms.

An undertaking…

That, if accomplished, would be as monumental as a Sub-Sage cleaving open the firmament!

Seated upon the throne, Zhao Xuan reached for the imperial jade seal resting beside him and looked toward Li Junzi.

“The road ahead has now been laid. All that remains is for Teacher Li to set foot upon it.”

Li Junzi reached toward the documents beside her, sensing the literary energy within them.

Some were like the rising sun—immature, yet blazing and pure.

Some were like the full moon—cold and ruthless, yet illuminating a sliver of light in the dark night.

Some were like spring water, unraveling the mysteries of all things and allowing one to understand their nature.

These were the writings of the various schools, each representing the culmination of its own tradition.

The new reforms had ultimately attracted countless scholars and Grand Confucians with ambition in their hearts.

Li Junzi made her decision. She raised her eyes to Zhao Xuan.

“How can you say I am the only one setting foot upon it? This road is already crowded.”

“We scholars of Confucianism are called stubborn by some and dismissed with scorn by others.”

“But today, scholars of Confucianism will also show the backbone of scholars.”

“Then let it be today.”

Zhao Xuan’s gaze trembled when he heard this. Looking at the weariness on Li Junzi’s face, he wanted badly to ask one question:

Shouldn’t you rest first?

But he also understood that sometimes, morale was something intangible—something that could neither be seen nor felt.

Even if the body was exhausted, as long as that spirit remained, one could still cut through every obstacle.

But once that spirit was gone, even a person in peak condition would inevitably fail.

Zhao Xuan lowered his voice and answered heavily.

“Very well…”

Zhao Xuan raised his hand and opened the box covering the Imperial Jade Seal.

Inside was the Imperial Jade Seal, marked with numerous cracks. He reached out and lifted the seal, which was as heavy as countless rivers and the lives of tens of millions. Then he pressed it down upon an edict that had evidently been prepared long ago.

“Above, receive the grace of Heaven; below, shelter all realms and all people.”

“Now, the Xuánwǔ Kingdom of Nanzhan Buzhou…”

“By the authority of the kingdom’s sovereign, and with the Seal of National Fortune as witness…”

“We hereby open the national fortune of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom. All scholars of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom—whether they enter the court as officials or remain among the people—as long as they sincerely wish to benefit the common people, resist foreign enemies, serve the kingdom with sincerity, cultivate themselves, put their households in order, and govern the nation…”

“They shall enjoy the national fortune of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom. Those martial practitioners who lack strength shall have their foundations cleansed and renewed; those Confucian scholars who have failed to awaken shall pierce through the riddles before them.”

“Those who hold office shall bear the national fortune.”

“Confucian scholars shall not lose heart; martial practitioners shall not wither.”

The Imperial Jade Seal seemed to possess a spirit of its own, for it understood that every character written below would consume the national fortune of the entire Xuánwǔ Kingdom.

Zhao Xuan could raise the seal, but though it hovered only a short distance above the edict, he found that he could not press it down with all his strength.

“If the Xuánwǔ Kingdom can exchange itself today for the eternal prosperity of humankind, so that humanity will no longer blindly seek immortality…” Zhao Xuan spoke in a low voice. “I am willing to abandon my life of wealth and honor and become a withered skeleton. When I kneel before my ancestors beneath the Yellow Springs, I will bow my head to them. Now, are you unwilling?”

As his words fell, the sluggish jade seal finally descended.

The next moment—

The already-cracked Imperial Jade Seal shattered completely, transforming into pale-yellow national fortune that rose into the sky. It became a five-clawed golden dragon and ascended, piercing through the firmament.

Zhao Xuan’s hand suddenly felt empty. He pressed it down upon the edict.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted his hand.

Beneath the edict, the seal of the Xuánwǔ Kingdom had already been stamped.