Chapter 92: Li Hao’s Aspirations
The True Dragon Selection was set to take place in two months.
Li Tiangang relayed this news to He Jianlan and also informed the entire household.
For a moment, the various courtyards were abuzz with discussions.
However, this outcome was not entirely unexpected. Ever since Li Wushuang had returned from the mountains, it was clear that the purpose was to compete for the position of True Dragon.
Yet this time, the candidate capable of vying for the True Dragon title was initially expected to come from Shuihua Courtyard. Now, unexpectedly, Li Hao of Shanhe Courtyard had emerged as a dark horse.
“Hmph, Liu Yurong must be fuming,” Xiao Yujing sneered coldly in Linglong Courtyard.
She herself had no children of her own, only an adopted son, Li Yuanzhao. While Li Yuanzhao possessed the talent of an eighth-class battle body, it still fell short. After all, a ninth-class battle body was merely the baseline for a truly exceptional genius.
Naturally, he had little chance of competing for the True Dragon title.
But now that Li Hao had shocked the world by showcasing his extraordinary potential, Li Yuanzhao, who shared a close relationship with Li Hao, could also benefit.
Still, Xiao Yujing didn’t care too much about these matters.
...
In Shuihua Courtyard, Liu Yurong, though prepared for the news, was still seething with anger.
She instructed an elderly servant to prepare a letter. At this point, she could only seek assistance from Qian Kun Vajra’s master.
Perhaps the Buddhist Lord, who was said to rival a True Person of Qiandao Palace, might have a solution.
Even though her child was also at the Fifteen Li realm, they were three years older.
...
...
At Boundless Mountain, within the realm of Brahma Pure Land, in the Boundless Spirit Realm...
The regulations of Boundless Mountain were stringent, with accommodations and lifestyle privileges determined by one’s rank within the Buddhist hierarchy. For instance, Vajras could reside in the Vajra Heart Hall to comprehend the Heart of a Grandmaster and cultivate into Arhats. Arhats, in turn, could reside in temples and enjoy offerings.
The Spirit Realm, however, stood supreme, serving as the residence and training ground of the Boundless Buddhist Lord.
This place was shrouded in spiritual mist, resembling a transcendent paradise.
“Amida Buddha. Buddhist Lord, the message has already been sent to Qian Kun Vajra, and he is on his way back. Additionally, we have just received a letter from the Divine General Mansion, sent by Lady Liu.”
A Bodhisattva whispered the sacred phrase while holding the letter, presenting it from a distance to the Buddhist Lord above.
Clad in a kasaya, the Boundless Buddhist Lord radiated divine Buddhist light. The blazing Buddhist Wheel behind him illuminated the surroundings, exuding the power to deliver all beings from suffering.
His massive form, over ten zhang tall, was a result of a unique secret cultivation technique, endowing him with unfathomable strength.
The Bodhisattva, having reached the Fourth Pillar Realm, appeared as small as an ant beside the towering Buddhist Lord, only able to look up in reverence.
As the letter floated before him, the Boundless Buddhist Lord did not reach out to take it. It lingered in the air for a moment before disintegrating into ash, its contents comprehended by him instantly.
“We were already aware of this matter. Lady Liu is far too impatient,” the Buddhist Lord said softly. “Tell her there is no need for haste. Talent is not solely determined by cultivation realm but also by the foundation built within each realm. Qian Kun Vajra practices the finest techniques of our Buddhist Sect and has inherited the unparalleled skills of the Li Family. Within the same realm, he can easily rank among the top five.”
“When he returns, I will bestow upon him a Buddhist Wish, ensuring his invincibility within the same realm.”
The Bodhisattva breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Thank you, Buddhist Lord.”
The Buddhist Lord spoke gently, “For nearly a century, conflicts have been frequent, and the fortunes of Great Yu have waned. Our intervention in the True Dragon selection of the Divine General Mansion is a reluctant choice. When the chaos of the world descends, it will be our duty to descend from the mountains and bring salvation to the masses.”
“Amida Buddha,” the Bodhisattva intoned reverently, his expression devout.
...
As news of the imminent selection of the Li Family’s True Dragon spread, all parties received the message and began to take action discreetly.
“Selecting the True Dragon hinges primarily on two aspects.”
In Shanhe Courtyard, Li Tiangang called Li Hao before him. Looking at his son, his feelings were a mixture of relief and concern.
“First, innate talent. Second, temperament.”
“There are also factors such as merits and connections, but those are secondary, merely the icing on the cake.”
Li Hao nodded. His second uncle had already explained this to him.
The Divine General Mansion, as a top-tier family, did not focus solely on strength.
While talent was essential, it alone was not enough. If someone’s temperament was poor, they wouldn’t go far.
Impulsiveness, arrogance, or obstinacy—such traits combined with exceptional talent would be akin to handing a lunatic the reins, only hastening the family’s downfall.
Steadiness, restraint, diplomacy, and equanimity were the hallmarks of an excellent temperament.
In simple terms, a successor needed not only extraordinary talent but also commendable character to embody the true spirit of a family heir.
Connections and merits were merely supplementary.
Connections, after all, were a reflection of temperament. Without an adept and versatile approach to handling affairs, how could one build a network?
Someone who offended others with every word, no matter how strong, would only turn the family into a target if they became its leader.
The Li Family’s True Dragon selection, while not as stringent as the royal family’s choice of crown prince, was still meticulously scrutinized. This was unlike smaller families, where a certain illegitimate child might gain an opportunity and surpass everyone overnight, forcing uncles and elders to kneel in shock.
Such scenarios often led to these opportunistic figures abandoning their families, treating them as mere stepping stones to greater heights.
By contrast, a top-tier family like the Li Family thrived because its leader bore the responsibility of uplifting the entire family, advancing together. This was why temperament was critical.
Li Tiangang glanced at Li Hao, saying, “Your talent does not worry me. But over these years, I have been lax in my guidance, leading to your somewhat unfocused nature. If you could put in a bit more effort, your achievements would be far beyond what they are now.”
He paused, casting another look at Li Hao.
These were words he had said before; this was, in a sense, old advice revisited.
Previously, Li Hao’s response had been simple: “So what?”
Now, looking at Li Hao’s calm expression, he sighed and said, “I know that your mother and I have not been by your side, which is our failing. But the lives of the millions of people in Yanbei rely on us. If I were to abandon them, the consequences would be disastrous—not only for Great Yu but also for the people of Yanzhou, who would suffer unimaginable devastation.”
“As a child of a general’s family, you should understand this.”
“I understand!” Li Hao spoke, looking seriously at his father. “In this, I have never blamed either of you—never!”
“I can vouch for that,” Li Fu interjected from where he was respectfully listening in the pavilion.
He looked at Li Hao with an expression full of pity and regret and addressed Li Tiangang, saying, “My lord, after the young master suffered an assassination attempt, you instructed me to return to the manor to protect him. I once asked the young master about it. Not only did he hold no resentment, but he was also concerned for your safety in Yanbei.”
“He…truly has never blamed you both.”
Hearing Li Fu’s words, Yuxuan, who had been standing like a sentinel nearby, was momentarily stunned.
He looked at the young man before him, whose eyes held a determined yet kind expression, and felt an indescribable emotion rising within him.
As an orphan raised in the barracks, Yuxuan understood that feeling. He had grown up abandoned and isolated, raised within the military since he was four or five. Watching other children play with their parents had always filled him with a gnawing envy.
There had been so many nights when he had angrily questioned the darkness, wondering why his parents had been so heartless, leaving him alone.
Why bring him into the world only to abandon him?
As he matured, he had gradually softened those feelings, considering the possibility that they might have had no choice.
Seeing this young master, who had been separated from his parents since birth and had grown up in this environment, Yuxuan would have thought he, too, would hold resentment. But somehow, this boy understood?
And he was still so young.
Looking at Li Hao’s thin frame, Yuxuan felt as though something deep inside was loosening, something difficult to describe.
For the first time, he realized he was truly beginning to understand the young master.
Li Tiangang, too, was taken aback by Li Fu’s words.
Looking into Li Hao’s sincere and earnest eyes, he knew there was no falsehood in them. With Li Fu’s testimony as well, he felt a sudden, painful ache in his chest.
But as a man who rarely showed tears, he took a deep breath, suppressing the ache. He recalled Li Hao’s earlier attitude and asked, “But have you ever held any resentment in your heart?”
“Yes,” Li Hao answered straightforwardly, without hiding anything.
The three were momentarily stunned. Moments ago, they were convinced he wasn’t lying, but this answer seemed contradictory.
Li Hao took a deep breath, looking his father squarely in the eye.
“My resentment isn’t because you weren’t here. It’s because I’ve counted the reports you sent from the front—a total of twenty-four, nearly two every year!”
“Yet, in these fourteen years, you’ve only sent seven family letters!”
Li Hao was no ordinary child; if he had been a simple fourteen-year-old, he might have kept his thoughts hidden, expressing resentment in small ways.
But he chose to be direct. Perhaps only by openly addressing it could he possibly mend this relationship with his father.
“Each time a report arrived at Changchun Courtyard, I would go to look, hoping for a family letter alongside it. Seventeen times, I was disappointed.”
“Those seventeen times, my aunt had to compose seventeen false letters to comfort me. She thought I didn’t know, but in truth, I could tell just by listening.”
“I didn’t need you to rush back to see me; I just don’t understand why, despite having the ability to write, you didn’t think to include a family letter.”
“Are you not even curious about how your son is doing, whether he knows how to brush his teeth, if he’s been bullied, or if he’s sad?”
As he spoke, the frustration and sense of abandonment Li Hao had buried inside began to reveal itself.
This body of his, after all, carried his father’s blood. He saw this man as his father.
Though the bond forged over fourteen years apart could not be called deep, disappointment and loss had inevitably built up over time.
When Li Hao finished, the three of them stood stunned.
Li Fu stared at Li Hao, his body trembling slightly.
Having been by Li Hao’s side for years, he knew how the lady of the house would fake letters, and he understood the subtle sorrow in her eyes and expression.
But he hadn’t known that the young Li Hao had seen through it all.
Each time Li Hao read the letter, he would return with a joyful expression.
So, he had been pretending?
He had played along to spare her feelings?
Li Fu bit his lip. This hardened man of the battlefield, who shed no tears as he bled, now felt a twinge of something he couldn’t ignore.
Li Tiangang and Yuxuan both stood in shock, their expressions complex. Li Tiangang found himself at a loss, realizing there was no excuse he could offer in response to Li Hao’s words.
He wanted to say that it was the unending urgency of the frontier battles that had left him no time to spare.
But was that truly a reason?
He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Even in the midst of battle, was there really no time to write a letter home?
He could send war reports but not a family letter?
There was only one explanation—he had genuinely neglected this son.
When had this begun?
He could no longer recall. Perhaps it had started when he learned that Li Hao could not build a foundation or refine blood, causing him to shift his focus entirely to the battlefield.
Or maybe the battles had been so constant that they drained him, leaving him no mental energy to think of anything else.
In the depths of his heart, he wondered if he had simply grown unaccustomed to having a son after spending so little time with him following his birth.
But…could he, as a father, admit that?
The saddest truth of all was that he could barely recall those seven letters he had sent, with most being prompted by his wife’s reminders.
In that moment, Li Tiangang’s face turned pale and troubled. For the first time, he realized that while he was undefeated on the battlefield, he had failed utterly as a father.
“Hao’er…”
Li Tiangang looked at the young man before him. Li Hao’s eyes were clear and filled with sincerity.
He found it difficult to meet those eyes, his heart aching, and he pulled Li Hao into his arms, his voice tinged with a roughness he rarely displayed. “It’s my failing—I owe you.”
Hearing his father’s quiet admission, Li Hao’s hardened heart softened just a bit.
He sighed inwardly. Was an apology enough?
Some things could never be fully repaired.
But he told himself silently to let it go.
After all, life often left regrets along the way.
He was willing to accept his father’s apology, but there would always be some lingering emptiness. Perhaps this was just part of life.
Li Fu and Yuxuan, observing this scene, stood quietly, their hearts aching with compassion for Li Hao’s resilience and maturity. They were also saddened by the toll that the turmoil of the frontier had taken—not only on the countless soldiers lost in battle but on a child thousands of miles away.
After a long silence, Li Tiangang finally composed himself, regaining his calm. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Li Hao and said,
“I will make up for these fourteen years that I have missed.”
“From now on, whatever you need, I will give it to you.”
Li Hao relaxed slightly, then responded, “I only hope for a little more freedom.”