“My Lord, palace guards bring word requesting your immediate presence at court.”

Outside the study, the old manor steward’s voice carried traces of weariness and trepidation. Having served in the Grand Historian’s residence for over a decade, the elderly man sensed something unusual about this night.

The study door opened, and Li Changshou stepped out unhurriedly.

This paper avatar wore a dark red loose robe, with pale hair bound up in a crane crown. He remained as vigorous and composed as he had been years ago when he first took up residence here, radiating vitality.

Li Changshou reached into his sleeve and pulled out a letter, handing it to the old steward with a smile.

“After I go to the palace tonight, lock the main gate and tell the guards not to leave without reason. If anyone asks, simply say I’ve gone to the palace. Tomorrow when things have settled, open this letter – it contains instructions for accessing my study cabinets. The money inside is distributed among the household staff. Consider it the conclusion of our fated connection.”

The old steward’s hands trembled as he held the envelope. “My Lord, this is… Disturbing rumors are spreading through the city. These past days, people speak of the King’s grave illness. Please, you mustn’t come to harm!”

“It’s not about harm, but rather that it’s time to depart,” Li Changshou said, patting the steward’s shoulder. “Don’t overthink it.”

With those words, wisps of smoke materialized beneath Li Changshou’s feet, lifting him half a zhang into the air. His form shifted, appearing directly in the empty front courtyard, and he walked unhurriedly toward the gate.

The steward opened his mouth but could only bow deeply toward the paper avatar’s retreating, letting out a soft sigh in the night – seemingly grateful for the care shown these past years.

As Li Changshou exited the gate, a large contingent of armored soldiers quickly surrounded it. A middle-aged commander stepped forward, clasped his hands, and bowed his head, calling out loudly:

“My Lord, the Grand Steward requests your immediate presence at court. I have prepared a carriage.”

“Not an ox cart?” Li Changshou furrowed his brow, speaking like an elder: “These old bones of mine, I’m not sure they can handle the jostling.”

The commander laughed awkwardly and said softly: “The situation is urgent, please bear with it. If you’re jolted about, I’ll have the driver’s head!”

The two soldiers leading the carriage over couldn’t help but shudder.

“No need for that, no need,” Li Changshou waved his hand and stepped nimbly onto the carriage, leaving the surrounding soldiers staring in amazement.

If this were back in Li Changshou’s home on Blue Star, the young people around him would probably exclaim in unison:

[Damn, this old master… wow, holy…]

In the mortal realm of the Southern Continent, they could only say: This elder truly has robust health.

The carriage wheels clattered as they turned, and Li Changshou swayed inside as they hurried toward the palace.

At the same moment, outside the mansions of various ministers around the royal palace, carriages drawn by oxen and horses headed toward the palace under military escort.

In the preceding days, tension had gripped Chaoge City.

The old King’s health had deteriorated steadily, now nearly exhausted like a lamp running out of oil. Three princes kept vigil in the palace while the Grand Steward temporarily managed state affairs.

The Grand Steward summoning all ministers in the deep of night could only mean one thing.

The King was failing.

However, Li Changshou knew that Emperor Yi had died two hours ago – the imperial dragon representing the Sovereign’s Destiny had manifested briefly above Chaoge City before dissipating.

Using methods to read the city’s aura now, one could see clouds and mists roiling above Chaoge City, a mass of purple-red clouds continuously churning.

This was the yet-ungathered Sovereign’s Destiny, indicating the throne remained undecided.

Though Zi Shou was the heir apparent, something must have happened in the palace, or it wouldn’t have been delayed for two hours.

Mortal affairs, throne succession, greed, personal ambition…

This night would have been perfect for Senior Jade Tripod to come to meditate on the Way.

Shortly after…

“Grand Historian, we have arrived.”

“Mm,” Li Changshou responded, lifting the carriage curtain and being helped down by the soldiers.

All around, carriages were parked haphazardly as elderly ministers were successively helped down, hurrying toward the King’s chambers.

Those hurried footsteps were like rain beating banana leaves or a defeated army in chaos.

Li Changshou mixed among the group of senior officials. Several tried to speak with him but were stopped by his gestures.

Soon, this group of ministers reached the royal chambers.

Over a hundred civil and military officials had gathered, but few had the privilege to enter.

“Grand Historian!”

An elderly minister called out, and the crowd ahead parted to make way. Li Changshou strode forward quickly, frowning as he entered through the half-closed palace doors.

A thick medicinal smell assaulted him.

The hall was somewhat dark, seemingly deliberately emphasizing the oppressive atmosphere.

Walking forward, he saw over ten major civil and military ministers gathered around the bed in the center of the hall. Li Changshou looked carefully – they were all names recorded both on the Investiture of the Gods list and secretly noted in his records.

Bi Gan, in his prime with a seven-chambered luminous heart, managed Great Shang’s criminal law.

Du Yuanxiu, minister of the Astronomical Bureau, studied celestial phenomena and seasonal changes, determining Great Shang’s annual planting months.

Minister Mei, the remonstrating official, specialized in arguing with the King.

Shang Rong, the Outer Governor, originally managed internal affairs jointly with the Grand Steward, but due to the merchant lord’s jealousy, now held only a nominal position.

And Wen Zhong, showing initial signs of age, tutor to the princes…

However.

Li Changshou counted silently and noticed that Huang Feihu, who should have had the right to enter, was absent from the hall.

Before these ministers knelt the three princes at the bedside, each with a lowered head and silent.

Zi Shou was the eldest legitimate son, kneeling at the front. Behind him were two middle-aged scholars – his elder brothers Wei Zi Qi and Wei Zhong Yan.

Li Changshou’s footsteps drew many gazes. Wei Zi Qi and Wei Zhong Yan cast friendly looks his way.

Only Zi Shou remained motionless, continuing to kneel before the bed.

The white-haired Grand Steward hurried over and said softly: “Grand Historian, you’ve finally arrived. The King has ascended to immortality. Please record this in the histories for future generations.”

Li Changshou coughed weakly twice and pulled an ornate silk scroll from his sleeve.

“It’s already written.”

“Write it!” The Grand Steward glared at Li Changshou as several elderly ministers frowned in his direction.

Li Changshou said quietly: “Better to be fully prepared than caught unaware.”

The Grand Steward opened the silk scroll and moved to a side lamp, reading it carefully before slowly nodding.

“In that case, this old minister will announce the King’s ascension to the assembled ministers. May the three princes remember the proper ceremony.”

With that, the Grand Steward held up the silk scroll and ordered the palace servants to open the doors. In a distinctive tone of emphasis, he called out loudly:

“The King! Has passed!”

The assembled ministers outside fell silent. By the bed, Zi Shou choked out:

“Royal Father!”

Wei Zi Qi and Wei Zhong Yan called out in unison, Bi Gan lowered his head with tears falling, all the ministers bowed and sobbed, and women’s wailing came from the hall’s corners.

The crying spread from the King’s chambers throughout the palace, soon filling it with sounds of mourning.

This was a ceremony, to be respected – not crying would be punishable.

An hour later, the crying ceased.

The Grand Steward called out, ordering female ritualists forward to pray and chant sutras – this would continue for a full day and night.

Then the Grand Steward said:

“Would the three princes and ministers please proceed to the throne hall?

Shang cannot go a day without a king. The King’s final edict is in this old minister’s hands, which you all just witnessed.

Everything shall be decided by this edict!”

Li Changshou couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.

Emperor Yi had drawn his last breath two hours before Li Changshou arrived, and this edict was from an hour and a half before his arrival.

At the time, Emperor Yi had seemed to rally briefly, but it was merely some magical trickery.

Heaven’s rules forbade interfering with human sovereigns, but when Emperor Yi died, the Sovereign’s Destiny had already collapsed – he was just a corpse.

This trick seemed shallow but was quite useful.

The three princes rose, each backing away with lowered heads, proceeding outside in silence as the elderly ministers followed.

Wen Zhong took the opportunity to move to Li Changshou’s side, seeming to want to speak but ultimately only sighing softly without saying more.

Soon, the ministers who had been wailing departed like a receding tide, leaving only a few female ritualists who began jumping and dancing, creating quite a desolate scene.

Each emperor had his ministers – when people left, even tea grew cold. Such was the way of things.

Half an hour later, in the throne hall.

Before the empty throne, the Grand Steward slowly unfolded the silk scroll. His somewhat breathless reading voice began to echo through the hall.

Below, the three princes stood in a triangle formation, with Zi Shou at the front, head lowered as he listened.

Wei Zi Qi and Wei Zhong Yan stood in the rear positions, exchanging meaningful smiles.

The Grand Steward read:

“In my life, though I campaigned in distant lands, expanded the realm’s territories, captured hundreds of thousands of enemies, and upheld the ancestors’ might, I had more failures than achievements.

Great Shang now faces internal troubles that cannot be resolved and heavy external threats.

After careful consideration, I feel Zi Shou is too young and overly sharp. If the throne passes to him, I fear his refinement is insufficient and the country will fragment.

Zi Qi is the eldest son, diligent in his studies, humble in dealing with others, and can be entrusted with the throne.”

The Grand Steward’s voice paused as he looked down at the three princes.

A pin-drop silence fell over the great hall, an indescribable tension making many civil and military officials hold their breath.

The Grand Steward spoke gravely: “Prince Zi Shou, do you have any objections?”

Zi Shou remained silent but straightened his back and closed his eyes.

Wei Zi Qi frowned slightly, while Wei Zhong Yan beside him let out a long sigh and said slowly: “I never expected Father to change his mind at the final moment. Indeed, Elder Brother Zi Qi is more steady compared to Zi Shou and me, possessing the bearing of a sovereign.”

At that moment, a powerfully built commander stepped out from the ranks of military officials and called out loudly:

“May I ask the Grand Steward! When was this royal edict decided? Why have I never heard of it?”

Another military official said: “Is this truly the King’s writing? Until today, the King had nothing but praise for Prince Zi Shou. Why would he suddenly change the heir?”

“General Lu Xiong!”

A civil official rebuked angrily: “Are you questioning the King’s decisions?!”

The commander Lu Xiong retorted: “This general’s loyalty to the King is as clear as the sun and moon! But this matter is truly suspicious and must be investigated!”

“General Lu Xiong,” the Grand Steward sighed, “When the King was on his deathbed, he ordered us to open the secret box by his pillow, from which we retrieved this edict. Five of the Six Ministers witnessed this, as did the two royal uncles.”

Bi Gan, chief of the civil officials, nodded slowly. Xu Yu, who held no specific position among the officials, also nodded gradually.

Most military officials frowned in confusion, while half the civil officials wore faint smiles.

Li Changshou watched quietly from the side. He was also curious to see how Zi Shou would ascend to the throne, and whether he would reveal his cruel nature tonight.

He was quite looking forward to it.

“Third Brother.”

Wei Zi Qi called out with a sigh: “Don’t be distressed by this. The throne should be shared among us three brothers.”

Zi Shou remained completely silent, standing still, his silhouette carrying an ineffable majesty.

This wasn’t pressure from cultivation, but pure authority.

Like mountains, like the heavens, like the azure waves of the four seas!

“Third Brother,” Wei Zhong Yan stepped forward half a pace and said seriously: “Before the assembled ministers, don’t make it difficult for Elder Brother. I know you’re reluctant to give up the throne, but this is Father’s edict…”

“Had enough?”

Zi Shou murmured, causing Wei Zhong Yan some confusion.

As Wei Zhong Yan was about to speak again, Zi Shou said calmly: “All ministers withdraw. Those who don’t will be executed.”

“This…”

“Prince, how dare you give orders?”

“We were all appointed by the late King, why can’t we stay?”

Clang!

Clang! Clang!

From the military officials’ ranks, numerous commanders unexpectedly drew short swords from their leg armor, pointing the blades at the surrounding civil officials with murderous intent.

The officials hurriedly retreated. Zi Shou added: “Those who were by my father’s bedside earlier may stay.”

Wei Zi Qi raised his arm and shouted:

“Wait! Are you staging a rebellion?!”

The commanders didn’t answer, only drove out the civil officials, leaving with them and tightly closing the hall doors.

Bang!

Wei Zi Qi’s face flushed red as he turned to glare at Zi Shou.

“Zi Shou! Do you refuse to respect even Father’s edict?!”

Zi Shou had turned around by now, his cold eyes fixed on his elder brother, making the latter unconsciously step back, creasing his elegant robes.

“Whether that was Father’s edict or not, you and I both know the truth.

I’ve always respected you as my elder brother, yet you would use Father’s corpse for such schemes!

Did you think I wouldn’t know about those outsiders’ strange arts?”

The Grand Steward hurriedly said: “Third Prince…”

“Silence!”

Zi Shou turned to glare, just as lightning flashed outside the hall, frightening the Grand Steward so much he clutched his chest, nearly fainting.

At that moment, sounds of rustling armor came from outside, as if a large contingent of soldiers was gathering.

Wei Zi Qi immediately grew bolder, straightening up and pointing at Zi Shou:

“Third Brother, don’t think your martial prowess can intimidate your elder brother and the ministers! Tonight, Chaoge City isn’t yours to command!”

“Is that so?”

Zi Shou’s lips curled as he walked toward the throne platform, then turned around on the steps, sitting down in the middle of the stairs, his eyes showing a trace of pity.

“Elder Brother… Brother, all these years, you seem to have never noticed something.

Since my childhood, you and your in-laws have used every means against me – poison, assassination, accidents, stopping at nothing. Yet was I ever in danger?”

Wei Zi Qi’s expression darkened as he said coldly: “Your brother knew nothing of this.”

Zi Shou leaned back, propping his elbow on the steps, his eyes carrying mockery.

He said slowly:

“For tonight, you spent three years, secretly winning over the city garrison commander and twelve palace guard commanders, making a fool of yourself with ever-greater promises.

If you become king tonight, you’d gain over a dozen more vassal states.

Brother, have you ever considered what ails our Shang nation?”

Wei Zi Qi said flatly: “Shang’s ailment lies in its slaves and vassals.”

“I once thought the same, but no longer.

Shang’s ailment lies in you, me, and Father – we all stand atop this ice mountain, yet try to melt it into flowing water. The first to fall will be you and me.”

Zi Shou pinched his nose bridge, “I once thought I alone saw our Shang’s illness.

Until one night’s talk with the Grand Historian, I realized I wasn’t the smartest prince in our history.

Everyone can see these ailments, and surely many wanted to reform, only to end up broken and bleeding.

Why?

Shang has eight hundred vassals, yet Shang itself is the greatest vassal. When the Great Shang grows old and weak, there will always be ambitious ones who step forward.

Shang’s true ailment is…

The King isn’t kingly enough.”

Boom—

Lightning flashed outside the hall, followed by pouring rain.

With the thunder came sudden battle cries from the palace gates.

Wei Zi Qi’s expression changed as he quickly walked a dozen paces toward the palace gates, then suddenly stopped and turned to glare at Zi Shou on the steps.

“Third Brother, what have you done!”

“Clearing out rebels.”

Zi Shou answered calmly, shaking his head slightly: “You only know schemes, thinking you could delay Flying Tiger, not knowing Flying Tiger was long prepared, secretly building tunnels from the city gates to the palace gates.

Half the palace guard commanders you recruited were my men.”

Wei Zi Qi’s eyes bulged as he cursed: “You- you! You plotted against your brother!”

“I didn’t want internal strife, but Brother, you went too far.”

Zi Shou said: “Junior Tutor, show Father’s edict to the Grand Steward.”

“Yes!”

Wen Zhong responded vigorously, stepping forward quickly to place a silk scroll in the Grand Steward’s hands, gently patting the back of his hand.

The Grand Steward’s breathing was irregular as he tremblingly opened the silk and struggled to read:

“I- I know my time is short. When I depart, Zi Shou shall be king. You all must support him fully, protecting our Great Shang’s rivers and mountains.

Bury me beside our ancestors, without a grand funeral.”

Wei Zhong Yan said softly: “That’s all?”

“That’s all…”

The Grand Steward looked down at the sparse writing on the silk, “Indeed, that’s all, and it’s the King’s hand.”

Wei Zhong Yan’s face instantly paled.

At this moment, the battle cries outside had ceased. The palace doors opened a crack, and a figure darted in, wearing golden armor, completely soaked by rain, with a mighty countenance and steady breath.

It was Huang Gun’s son, Huang Feihu!

Huang Feihu immediately knelt on one knee, clasping his sword and reporting: “Your Majesty! The rebels have been eliminated!”

Wei Zi Qi said softly: “Im- impossible! I had a hundred thousand troops!”

Zi Shou asked: “Flying Tiger, how many enemy troops tonight?”

Huang Feihu replied firmly: “Merely a few thousand scattered soldiers gathered at the palace gates, easily dealt with through coordination with the palace guards.”

“No, you’re deceiving me!”

Wei Zi Qi’s face turned ashen as he screamed: “Guards! Guards!”

Outside the palace doors was complete silence, as if even the ministers’ breathing had been silenced.

A tinkling sound rang out as Wei Zi Qi collapsed powerlessly to the ground.

Zi Shou said no more, turning to look up at the throne atop the steps. He lifted his long robes and ascended.

His steps were steady, his gaze determined.

‘From this day forward, Great Shang’s glory and the ancestors’ legacy shall be my burden.

Shang’s ailments and the danger of nurturing tigers shall be reformed by me.

Those among the eight hundred vassals who don’t submit shall be destroyed one by one.

Those of the four seas who don’t pay tribute shall be swept clean by thunder.

I don’t believe in Heaven’s Mandate!’

Before the throne, Zi Shou turned abruptly. The palace doors opened wide as civil and military officials hurried in with lowered heads. The dozen or so ministers who had remained inside stayed silent.

Soon, Bi Gan stood at the head of the civil officials, and Huang Feihu at the front of the military officials.

Zi Shou raised both hands and slowly sat on the throne.

Above Chaoge City, golden light burst forth from the purple-red miasma, and a golden celestial dragon soared skyward, swiftly absorbing Great Shang’s national destiny, silently roaring at the heavenly palace.

‘I AM Heaven’s Mandate!’