Volume 2 - Chapter 11: Long Xiao
The court was in a state of astonishment. While everyone had their motives for proposing punishment, even those officials close to the Li family who argued in defense of Li Hao had only attributed his actions to youthful ignorance and arrogance born of favoritism.
Who would have expected talk of grand ambitions or patriotic concern for the people?
To hear such praise from these self-righteous scholars was no easy feat.
The Grand Tutor spoke with great respect: “Your Majesty, a few days ago, one of my students hurried back from Qingzhou City and delivered a poetry collection. According to him, the poems were all composed by the young master of the Li family. He has verified their authenticity through various sources—there is no falsehood!”
“Oh?”
Emperor Yu was intrigued. That young man could compose poetry?
Then he thought about it—if the boy could play chess, why wouldn’t he be able to write poetry?
In his mind, chess was far more challenging than poetry.
Of course, he wouldn’t dare voice this opinion to the scholars of the Hanlin Academy, lest they argue him to exhaustion.
“Having read this collection, I feel nothing but shame,” the Grand Tutor continued. “We scholars spend our days reading the classics and surveying the rivers and mountains of the realm, yet we lack the talent and breadth of mind of a boy who spends his days sitting in a courtyard. I am utterly unworthy to face Your Majesty.”
As he spoke, the Grand Tutor raised a hand to cover his face, adopting an expression of regret and sorrow.
Everyone present was dumbfounded.
Was this old scholar under some sort of spell?
When had they ever heard the word “shame” from his lips?
He was the type to argue his point to the bitter end even when in the wrong, yet today he was conceding defeat?
Even Emperor Yu was drawn in, his curiosity piqued. “My dear minister, stop keeping us in suspense. Tell me, what is the reason for this?”
At the emperor’s urging, Zhao Shugang, the Grand Tutor, pulled the poetry collection from his voluminous sleeve and presented it with both hands.
The eunuch Chu Jiuyue stepped forward, taking the collection and handing it to the emperor. Zhao Shugang turned his gaze toward the commander of Liangzhou, his sleeve flicking dramatically, his eyes sharp as lightning.
“Yes, it’s true that the father and son fought on the battlefield, and yes, it’s true that this violates moral principles. But you’re wrong to say that no reason can justify it!”
“The Great Yu Dynasty honors propriety, but we do not adhere to lifeless rules!”
“Otherwise, would we not all be outdated and rigid fools?”
Were they not already?
The generals couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.
But Zhao Shugang’s eyes burned as he continued in a booming voice: “I ask you all—does someone who writes, ‘Why bother returning a corpse wrapped in horsehide if one can die for the nation on the battlefield,’ not embody patriotism?”
“Or someone who writes, ‘Since ancient times, who has not died? Let my red heart illuminate history,’ does he not love his country?”
“‘Speak not of titles or rewards, for a general’s success is built upon the bones of countless dead!’”
Zhao Shugang fixed his gaze on the Liangzhou commander, his voice resounding through the court: “These lines advise against craving titles and rewards, lamenting the soldiers who perish in battle while harboring no desire for personal fame.”
“I ask again—what kind of person could see the world with such gravity and personal ambition so lightly?!”
“And how many of you could achieve the same?!”
The assembly fell into stunned silence. Some were left speechless, while others felt indignant. The expression in Zhao Shugang’s eyes seemed to accuse them all of pursuing glory alone.
The Liangzhou commander’s expression shifted. Those lines struck a chord deep within him.
His anger toward the youth from Qingzhou stemmed largely from his fears of Tianmen Pass falling, which would spell disaster for Liangzhou’s people.
But the line “Why bother returning a corpse wrapped in horsehide...”
As a veteran of countless battles, he was no stranger to the brutality of war and the many soldiers who never returned intact.
That single line brought a wetness to his eyes.
After all, wasn’t this the sentiment those soldiers carried in their hearts as they fought and defended with their lives?
They simply lacked the words to express it.
At that moment, Emperor Yu was leafing through the poetry collection handed over by Chu Jiuyue. As he read, his expression grew solemn, and his silence deepened.
“Even if he is patriotic and a loyal minister, the fact remains that he drew his sword against his father. That is an undeniable truth!” someone interjected suddenly.
Zhao Shugang turned to the speaker, a cold smile on his lips. “That is indeed the truth, but does truth equate to reality?”
The man faltered, thrown off by the question.
Such was the skill of these eloquent scholars—one sentence was enough to leave him speechless.
“Flowers in a mirror, the moon in water—what you see may not be real.”
Zhao Shugang’s voice was icy. “Even if it is real, can we say that King Xingwu bears no fault in this matter?”
“Sending his son to Tianmen Pass as punishment—is that not severe enough? Tell me, who among you would dare volunteer to defend Tianmen Pass?”
“...”
The court fell into an awkward silence. How had a discussion of father and son conflict turned into an accusation against them?
“Such a sincere and loyal young man can show such care for the people. Would he not also extend understanding to his own father? There must be more to this story. It requires proper investigation!” Zhao Shugang declared loudly.
Those who had initially proposed punishing Li Hao exchanged uneasy glances.
With the Hanlin Academy backing him, along with those who had already voiced their objections, their case seemed increasingly untenable.
“All this from a few poems? Words are easy; anyone can talk big,” said another voice—a cold-faced general.
Zhao Shugang sneered. “Then let’s hear your attempt.”
“I’m skilled at leading troops, not composing poems. But I can speak plainly: loyalty to the emperor and devotion to the nation—I will die a thousand deaths without regret!” the general replied.
“Such shallow declarations come easily to anyone,” Zhao Shugang retorted coldly. “But without a surging heart, one cannot create verses so profound and soul-stirring.”
As a great scholar, Zhao Shugang’s reading of the poetry collection had left him with deep admiration for the young man he had never met.
Reading the poems was akin to meeting the person himself. They knew that while a deceitful heart might produce one or two patriotic verses, it could never sustain such a consistent output of sincerity.
Initially skeptical, they had thoroughly investigated and confirmed that the young man had indeed written all the poems himself.
To think that such remarkable talent could emerge from among the rough generals and soldiers was both humbling and awe-inspiring for these scholars.
“One body traveling three thousand li in battle, one sword enough to hold back a million troops!”
At this moment, Emperor Yu’s voice rang out softly in the hall. Everyone felt a jolt in their hearts.
What majestic and grand poetry!
A flicker of light gradually appeared in Emperor Yu’s eyes. The image of the unparalleled prodigy from Qingzhou became even clearer in his mind.
“What brilliant verses! What an exceptional young man!”
With a smile spreading across his face, Emperor Yu didn’t hold back his praise.
Those who had intended to continue debating changed their expressions and chose to remain silent.
Now that Emperor Yu had spoken, further discussion was meaningless.
All they could do was hope that the biting winds and snow beyond the pass would truly crush the young man...
...
Court adjourned.
In Qianming Palace, Emperor Yu paced slowly, with Chu Jiuyue following behind him, slightly bowing in respect.
“You saw that boy at the True Dragon Banquet. What’s your impression of him?”
The emperor paused by a flowering tree, where a single bloom adorned its branches, and snowflakes rested gently on its twigs.
Seeing this, he was reminded of a line from the poetry collection:
“When autumn comes on the ninth of September, my flower blooms and slays all others.”
A faint smile played at the emperor’s lips. That little fellow’s aggressive style in chess seemed perfectly in line with creating such fierce and unyielding verses.
Chu Jiuyue pondered for a moment before bowing. “Your Majesty, I observed that the boy carried himself with casual ease yet displayed a steady temperament. He did not seem like a frivolous or arrogant person. The events of that day were indeed initiated by the Buddha Lord’s personal disciple, who harbored a killing intent that, though subtle, I managed to detect…”
Emperor Yu’s eyes glimmered faintly as he murmured, “The Buddha Lord…”
He gazed off into the distance and said softly, “It’s snowing. I wonder how the boy fares beyond the pass. I’ve heard that King Xingwu has withdrawn all the troops from that area, evidently understanding the implicit message in my earlier words. It seems he plans to abandon the place.”
Chu Jiuyue lowered his head without a word, knowing that sometimes it was best to speak less.
“If you have the time, make a trip there. I heard the boy left in such haste that he didn’t even take his sword. Deliver one on my behalf.”
The emperor’s smile deepened as he added, “Send the Dragon Xiao Sword.”
Chu Jiuyue’s heart trembled. That was the foremost among the ten greatest swords in the world.
The emperor’s affection for the young man of the Li family seemed to exceed all expectations.
“As you command,” Chu Jiuyue responded respectfully.
“I’m not afraid of Tian Gang losing his son, but I’d be a little reluctant myself...”
The emperor chuckled softly. “And tell him that if he ever feels weary, he may return to the Great Yu. I’ll allow him to train in the outer hall of Qiandao Palace, living alongside the princes.”
Chu Jiuyue’s pupils contracted slightly, but he still responded with utmost deference.
...
...
At the border of Liangzhou, Tianmen Pass.
The desolate city of Cangya had been reduced to a mere hill of rubble.
Snowflakes fell in a steady dance, blanketing the tents of the camp and covering the corpses of the demons slain just the day before.
“It’s snowing.”
Li Hao paused in the middle of writing down a cultivation technique. With a wave of his object manipulation ability, he shielded the paper to prevent the snowflakes from soaking it.
“Snowy days are unsuitable for fishing…”
He murmured to himself, his gaze turning toward the direction of Qingzhou. He wondered if it was snowing there, and whether the lake surface had started to freeze...
“Today, the two of you should consider leaving as well,” Li Hongzhuang said to Li Hao and Li He.
Li Hao’s eyes flickered, silently studying her.
Li Hongzhuang smiled faintly and said, “When you eliminated their stronghold yesterday, did you inquire about the state of the Dragon Mountain Dojo? Over there, the Three Immortals Great Demons are not limited to just one. You killed Chi Hu Jun, the mount of the old dragon. They will surely retaliate!”
“All these years, they have refrained from launching a full-scale assault. I suspect it’s intentional.”
Li Hao recalled his investigations and asked, “Do you know the reason?”
“There are several possibilities,” Li Hongzhuang replied. “The first is that they use this as leverage to demand more living sacrifices from the Northern Frost Kingdom. The second is that they aim to wear down our Li family over time. After all, breaking through Tianmen Pass directly is of little significance. Dragon Pass Path has long been overrun—they can enter our territory freely, albeit in small numbers.”
“On the contrary, keeping us contained here allows them to continuously drain our strength. That old dragon likely harbors a grudge against our Li family’s ancestors and is doing this out of spite.”
Li Hao nodded. It seemed Li Hongzhuang was well aware of the situation.
“But today, they are likely to come with fury and will not hold back,” Li Hongzhuang warned.
As she finished speaking, the ground beneath them seemed to quake violently.
The three of them turned their gazes toward the camp’s perimeter.
In the distance, towering and massive figures loomed into view at the edge of their vision.