Preface:

“Governing a great nation is like cooking small fish; in times of chaos, one must use potent medicine for severe illness!”

— Dao De Jing and Zhou Li

Chapter 1: Five Hundred Years in Hindsight

The old warrior narrowed his eyes at these words, shifting his gaze from Xu Qi An to the distant horizon.

There was an air of twilight about him—not in the derogatory sense, but rather that natural essence that people often shy away from in their pursuit of youth. This twilight air surrounding him was born of years, carrying a weight more profound than mere vicissitudes of time.

He was as old as the nation itself, born in the late Zhou Dynasty, bearing witness to the rise and fall of two dynasties. During times of chaos, he had raised his banner in rebellion, leading righteous armies to overthrow tyranny. He had experienced too much, and seen too many people come and go.

This twilight essence had naturally seeped into his very bones.

Strangely, Xu Qi An hadn’t noticed such an air about the Overseer, the Compassion Arhat, or even the two Vajra warriors, despite their transcendent powers.

Was it because he had always remained in the mortal realm? Or perhaps because he was a crude warrior? Xu Qi An pondered.

After a long moment, the old warrior spoke slowly:

“When Emperor Wuzong rebelled and usurped the throne, I hadn’t yet gone into seclusion. At that time, the Da Feng Emperor was close to corrupt officials, throwing the court into complete disorder.

“Of course, temporary political turmoil was nothing compared to the chaos of a dying dynasty.

“Wuzong was the grandson of the founding emperor, with talent no less than his grandfather’s, and the same character—both were ambitious heroes. He took advantage of the widespread dissatisfaction with the corrupt emperor and his officials, raising an army under the banner of purging the court.

“It was clever. Had he directly declared rebellion, he wouldn’t have won the people’s hearts or the support of the worthy.

“At the time, he was merely a Third-Rank warrior. Trying to rebel under the First Overseer’s nose seemed impossible.

“So he cleverly sought three allies: the Confucian Sect, the Buddhist Order, and the Overseer of that era.”

At this point, Xu Qi An couldn’t help but interrupt: “But I heard that during Emperor Wuzong’s rebellion five hundred years ago, the Confucian Sect remained neutral throughout.”

The old warrior chuckled: “Their neutrality was the greatest help. Otherwise, with the Confucian Sect’s foundation plus the First Overseer, how could Wuzong have succeeded? Unless Buddha himself had intervened.

“The Confucian Sect had long been dissatisfied with the emperor then, but the First Overseer’s presence kept them in check.”

Seeing no questions from Xu Qi An, he continued:

“When Emperor Wuzong first rose, his forces were insufficient to challenge all of Da Feng, so he turned his attention to the Martial Alliance.

“The one who came to persuade me to deploy troops was none other than the current Overseer.

“Initially, I disagreed. What benefit would I gain if it succeeded? Wuzong couldn’t give me the Sword Province. If we failed, the Martial Alliance I’d built over a century might be destroyed.

“Care to guess how the Overseer convinced me?”

Xu Qi An’s mind stirred: “Was it related to this agreement?”

The old warrior nodded, then shook his head:

“More precisely, it was a transaction.

“In the hundred-plus years after returning to Sword Province and founding the Martial Alliance, I had reached the peak of Third-Rank, but couldn’t achieve Unity.

“The most terrifying thing isn’t difficulty or setbacks, but seeing no hope. That Ji fellow had similar cultivation to mine, but after becoming emperor, blessed by imperial fortune, his cultivation advanced rapidly until he reached First-Rank warrior status.

“I wasn’t convinced, so I never stooped to ask him about his experience reaching Unity.”

What a laugh about ‘stooping to ask’—you old fox, you’ve already taken all the bamboo shoots from Dog Rong Mountain, Xu Qi An silently mocked.

“I didn’t know then about the rule that those blessed by fortune couldn’t achieve longevity. Decades later, before I could convince myself otherwise, that Ji fellow became short-lived and passed away…”

The old warrior shook his head and sneered, “The First Overseer probably cried her eyes out, haha! I always suspected he was a pretty boy. Ahem… Anyway, I remained stuck at peak Third Rank for many years, unable to break through, seeing no hope of advancement.

“Until that day, when the current Overseer came to me, saying if I would deploy troops to help Wuzong take the throne, he would help me reach Second Rank.”

Xu Qi An burst out laughing: “I understand now—Senior, you were tricked by the Overseer. Who knew the Overseer was such a political schemer back then.”

The old warrior glanced at him with an ambiguous smile: “I used to think so too, but now, I have indeed reached Second Rank.”

In the several seconds after these words, Xu Qi An’s smile remained unchanged at first, then, as if realizing something, his expression gradually stiffened, froze on his face, and slowly disappeared.

If a camera had captured this process, his “acting” would have been perfect.

Xu Qi An stared at the old warrior with blank eyes, his lips moving with difficulty as he spoke: “You mean… the nine-colored lotus root… no, my help… is the Overseer fulfilling his promise from back then?”

The old warrior grunted in agreement: “I can’t think of a better explanation.”

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Xu Qi An stepped back three paces, staring dumbfounded at the old man, his face suddenly contorted with an expression that was hard to distinguish between surprise and fear.

Or perhaps both.

Others couldn’t know his inner thoughts, but beneath his blank expression, his emotions were churning like a stormy sea, information exploding in his mind.

If things were as the old warrior said, what did that mean?

“I remember Xu Ping Feng saying that Destiny Masters can peek at heaven’s mechanisms and somewhat predict the future. Because of this, the Overseer can’t interfere with what he foresees. He can only arrange things in the background, influencing matters indirectly.

“Peeking at heaven’s mechanisms is already defying heaven—revealing heaven’s secrets would bring direct divine punishment. But this isn’t even the key point. The key is…

“Five hundred years ago, the Overseer wasn’t a Destiny Master! How could he possibly have predicted the future? How is this possible?!”

Xu Qi An’s expression became extremely ugly as if his worldview had collapsed.

“You seem to have realized something?”

Seeing his disturbed expression, the old warrior frowned and asked.

Xu Qi An didn’t reply, maintaining his troubled expression as he took a long time to calm his emotions.

Then, based on this information, he derived three conjectures and one doubt.

Conjecture One: The one who predicted the situation five hundred years later wasn’t the current Overseer, but the First Overseer.

If so, the secrets involved were terrifying.

Conjecture Two: The current Overseer’s identity was questionable—he might be the First Overseer. The disciple from back then might have been the First Overseer’s alternate identity.

But if so, why did the First Overseer go to such lengths to fake a “suicide”? What was the purpose?

Moreover, the Buddhist Bodhisattvas were involved in this matter. Each Bodhisattva possessed power to rival heaven and earth—it would have been extremely difficult for the First Overseer to hide an alternate identity from them.

Conjecture Three: Both previous theories were wrong—the current Overseer could predict events five hundred years later because there was something unusual about him.

As for the doubt…

Thinking back on the Artificer system and the curse of disciples betraying their masters, there actually existed a paradox.

The current Overseer was as formidable as the First Overseer had been.

If the current Overseer could predict the future, so could the First Overseer—she could have found a way to eliminate Emperor Wuzong before his rebellion.

Even if Destiny Masters couldn’t directly interfere with the future, Xu Qi An believed that Emperor Wuzong must have had countless near-death experiences in his military career.

The First Overseer only needed to seize one such opportunity and exert indirect influence, and Emperor Wuzong would have perished.

Without question, the First Overseer was capable of this.

There were many similar methods—the First Overseer certainly could prevent Emperor Wuzong from finding any opportunity to rebel.

This paradox seemed at first glance to validate Conjectures One and Two, but it could also support Conjecture Three.

If there was something unusual about the current Overseer himself, that could indeed resolve the paradox.

“Another explanation is that the First Overseer foresaw the current one’s betrayal but chose not to prevent it, instead opting to play this game. Just like the current Overseer’s attitude toward Xu Ping Feng.

‘I know you’ll betray me, but I won’t stop it. Let’s settle this in the way of Artificers.’

“As Xu Ping Feng would say, this is the curse of the Artificer system, unavoidable unless you want the system to end here. As long as you wish to pass on the legacy, you must take disciples and accept their eventual betrayal.

“In common terms—it’s the rules of the trade!”

Beyond the three conjectures and one doubt, Xu Qi An had another theory that fits reality better.

This theory wasn’t so conspiracy-laden: the truth was simply that the Overseer had indeed been a political schemer back then, purely deceiving the old warrior.

As everyone knows, politicians worldwide promise payment upfront but take everything for free afterward.

After all, once the Overseer successfully reached First Rank, what was there to fear from a crude warrior’s revenge?

As for five hundred years later, when the old warrior reached Second-Rank through the nine-colored lotus root, perhaps the Overseer discovered years later that he could fulfill his promise through the lotus root and made arrangements accordingly.

In essence, there was no five-hundred-year prediction at all.

Objectively speaking, Xu Qi An felt this was the truth.

The reason was simple: the ability to precisely predict an event five hundred years in the future wasn’t something even a First-Rank cultivator could achieve.

Not even a transcendent rank could do it.

He wasn’t a rookie anymore—he’d killed the Second-Rank Zhen De, and fought against First-Rank Dharma Bodies, and while he hadn’t encountered Transcendent-Rank beings, he had some concept of their capabilities.

Gathering his scattered thoughts, Xu Qi An asked: “Senior, how did you determine that I was the fulfillment of the Overseer’s promise?”

The old warrior sighed: “That old fellow left me with these words back then: ‘Stay alive—when you achieve Unity will be when the people of the Central Plains need you.’

“Of course, it might have been just an excuse—Artificers are always cryptic. But since I’ve successfully advanced, I’ll take it as him fulfilling his promise.”

Xu Qi An felt his scalp tingle.

At this moment, someone flew through the air to the cliff top, stopping at a distance and cupping his hands in greeting: “Patriarch, this junior is Wen Cheng Bi.”

The old warrior’s expression showed slight confusion.

Xu Qi An helped introduce: “This is the Vice Leader of your Martial Alliance.”

The old warrior nodded in recognition, asking: “What’s the matter?”

Wen Cheng Bi explained the troubles facing the Martial Alliance, then tentatively suggested: “If we use the military garrison as the core for headquarters expansion, we could save considerable manpower and resources. Alliance Leader Cao is hesitant and asked me to seek your opinion, Patriarch.”

*The core issue is insufficient funds…* Xu Qi An concluded.

In an era of underdeveloped equipment, major construction projects consumed enormous financial and human resources. In the history Xu Qi An knew well, there were numerous examples of dynasties falling due to excessive construction—Sui and Qin being prime examples. While a dynasty’s fall never had just one cause, the fact that later generations attributed it to construction projects showed how financially draining they could be.

The old warrior pondered: “The money isn’t an issue. I’ll be responsible for retrieving the silver buried under the mountain. The headquarters must remain on the mountain—this point is non-negotiable.”

Xu Qi An understood his meaning. With great chaos approaching, the Martial Alliance headquarters would serve as a strategic position, suitable for both defense and offense.

If built on the flat terrain of the military garrison, enemy cavalry could rout them instantly.

Wen Cheng Bi said gravely: “But this way, the Alliance’s savings might… In normal times it would be fine—brothers would just need to be more frugal. But now, with disasters everywhere, without silver for relief, Sword Province might fall into chaos.”

The old warrior immediately said: “Then let the Alliance brothers work together with the soldiers.”

Wen Cheng Bi shook his head: “Still not enough manpower.”

The old warrior frowned, thought for a moment, and then turned to Xu Qi An: “What do you think?”

Xu Qi An replied irritably: “It’s simple—work-relief programs. Gather the disaster victims to build the headquarters, giving food instead of silver. This solves both their hunger and saves money.”

Wen Cheng Bi’s eyes suddenly lit up with joy: “Brilliant insight, Officer Xu! As expected of you, to devise such an excellent plan.”

*This isn’t brilliant—it’s traditional…* Xu Qi An nodded modestly.

“It’s against convention!” The old warrior frowned.

In these times, there was no precedent for work-relief programs. Disaster victims contentedly drank gruel provided by the court or wealthy households, waiting for the disasters to end and the earth to warm.

Even occasional small-scale work-relief events rarely became mainstream.

“Patriarch, this plan is excellent,” Wen Cheng Bi hurriedly said. “Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. Please approve it.”

The old warrior waved his hand, too lazy to argue over such minor matters: “Go ahead.”

Watching Wen Cheng Bi leave, Xu Qi An said: “Senior, I’m now at Third-Rank, with Unity as my next step. But I still don’t understand its true meaning.”

The old warrior shared freely: “Unity is the transformation of ‘Intent,’ what I call completing one’s martial path. Every Fourth-Rank warrior can only comprehend one type of ‘Intent’—it becomes their chosen martial path.

“Intent is the embryonic form of the Way.

“Perfecting your chosen path is the true essence of Second-Rank Unity. However, while it’s easy to say, it’s incredibly difficult to achieve.

“In my life, I practiced sword techniques, combining the strengths of various schools into one. Yet I still stalled at peak Third-Rank, nearly dying from failed Unity.”

Xu Qi An eagerly asked: “How did you achieve Unity, Senior?”

“There are countless sword paths, and understanding true Intent leads to Unity. But there are countless routes to true Intent. During my seclusion, my body became chunks of flesh, each representing a different sword path. They had their ideas, each believing itself correct.”

“The nine-colored lotus root can aid in achieving Unity?”

“Nine-colored lotus seeds can enlighten all things, and the root is even more powerful. Its role is to enlighten the thousands of ‘selves’ trapped in the quagmire, establishing one dominant ‘self.’ Lotus seeds aren’t powerful enough for this, but the nine-colored lotus root is. This was why Qing Yang wanted to obtain it for me back then.”

*The nine-colored lotus root acts as a stabilizer, catalyzing and stabilizing the process…* Xu Qi An broadly understood.

*I still have a small section of the nine-colored lotus root left. Hmm, let Nan Chi continue cultivating it for me. This way, when I reach Second, perhaps I won’t need to take her spiritual essence.*

Before handing over the nine-colored lotus root, Xu Qi An had kept a small section, just like the previous piece.

Such a heavenly treasure needed sustainable development.

Bidding farewell to the old warrior, he returned to the military garrison. Xu Qi An found a courtyard and summoned Mu Nan Chi and Chai Xing Er. The latter, weakened from long imprisonment in the Pagoda Treasury, needed time to recover her strength.

She still had her uses—the ancient tomb guarded by the Chai family ancestors, having caught Xu Ping Feng’s attention, surely contained no ordinary occupant.

Mu Nan Chi wore a plum-colored cotton jacket and plain pleated dress, exuding the air of a cultured lady and wealthy housewife.

Even with ordinary looks, she couldn’t hide her unique charm.

When Xu Qi An walked away, the little white fox hurriedly said:

“Auntie, I need to pee.”

Without another word, it leaped from Mu Nan Chi’s arms and ran off playfully.

Using its innate divine ability, it transformed into a white streak, flashing through the military garrison several times before leaving the building complex and plunging into the verdant Dog Rong Mountains.

Within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Bai Ji had infiltrated deep into the old forest, far from Dog Rong Mountain’s main peak.

It glanced around, then leaped onto a tall rock.

The Empress’s arrival needed to be grand.