Chapter 106: Where One Stands Becomes the Vortex, Rewards at the Heavenly Profound Palace Settle the Turmoil

Five centuries after the Great Zhao Dynasty’s southern migration, although the domain of its rule had shifted, the system it followed remained largely unchanged.

Ever since the founding ancestor of the Great Zhao Dynasty ended the centuries-long chaos of warring feudal lords across the Central Plains, the dynasty had adhered to the principle of governing through culture to pacify the nation, implementing a fundamental policy of favoring civil governance over military power.

Though the Academy of Letters and the Martial Temple were often at odds, it was evident that the dynasty leaned heavily towards the former. Within the Great Zhao Dynasty, military officers and generals held far less status than their civil counterparts.

Under this literary supremacy and military suppression, phenomena such as "letters cannot replace martial skills" emerged. The flourishing imperial examinations further drew countless prodigious talents towards civil service, leaving military positions neglected.

The standing of martial families grew increasingly precarious under such national policies. Within the army, military supervisors—civil officials appointed by the Court of Imperial Furs—were tasked with overseeing generals, deepening the antagonism between the Academy of Letters and the Martial Temple.

Restricting generals had long been a common consensus in Great Zhao. After all, the founding ancestor himself rose to power as a military man, donning the yellow robe to establish a grand empire. The current sovereign of the Zhao family understood all too well the profound impact a powerful general holding military authority could wield if left unchecked.

Within the Hall of Heavenly Mystery, the atmosphere had become taut and grim.

The sudden return of the Academy’s Second Master, Pang Ji, astonished many. More surprising still, upon entering the Hall, Pang Ji’s first words were to support Chancellor Qin’s resolution.

In an instant, the air before the Hall grew peculiarly charged.

Seated upon the imperial throne, the Zhao sovereign furrowed his brow slightly, fingers lightly tapping the armrest. Observing Pang Ji’s approach, he found himself unable to fully grasp the man’s intentions. Though Pang Ji was known to be on friendly terms with Chancellor Qin, he had never before so openly shown support.

Moreover, the sovereign had heard that An Le had once stirred a profound and rare vitality from the Wenqu Stele before the Chancellor’s mansion, indicating deep ties between this youth and the Academy of Letters.

Why, then, would the Second Master Pang Ji step forth so boldly in support of Qin Lishi?

The Zhao sovereign remained silent, lost in thought. After a moment, clarity dawned, and a faint smile curved his lips.

Meanwhile, Di Cang, who had just sheathed the Founding Ancestor’s Dragon-Slaying Blade, felt an irresistible urge to draw it forth once more and strike out. His hair and beard fluttered wildly, the tattooed marks on his face shifting as his eyes blazed like twin suns, fixed fiercely upon Pang Ji.

“Old thief Pang! What are you saying?” he thundered. “Using the Martial Temple’s treasured Wukuai Stone as the martial examination’s test—what injustice lies in that?!”

Pang Ji lowered his gaze calmly and replied, “As Chancellor Qin said, An Le resonates with the Wukuai Stone in a way no one else can, summoning aid from the martial champions of past dynasties. That is indeed unfair. For example, the Academy of Letters has never used the Wenqu Stele for assessments because An Le possesses the rare vitality stirred by it. Using the Wenqu Stele would be unjust to others.”

Upon hearing this, Di Cang’s anger gradually subsided. His eyes narrowed as he loosened his grip on the sword’s hilt.

“Is this your personal stance, or does it represent the Academy’s entire position?” he asked coldly. “Do Zhu Huoxi and Wang Banshan share your view?”

Pang Ji sighed, “This is my own position alone, unrelated to the First or Third Masters. The Academy is divided into factions. Though I have overseen its affairs these years, I can only represent the branch behind me. Yet all I do is for the Academy’s sake.”

Di Cang studied Pang Ji deeply, suddenly understanding why the latter had returned. It was because An Le had pushed the Wukuai Stone’s power beyond its limits, causing the martial champions’ spectral forms to appear and dance upon it.

Thus, this devoted Second Master returned to the Hall of Heavenly Mystery. Since An Le had refused the First Master Zhu Huoxi’s invitation, he was certain not to join the Academy. Legendary pathwalker Li You’an had once belonged to the Academy before departing, and Su Zhaxian, who had also stirred the rare vitality, though now separate, had once flourished within it. Only An Le, having stirred the Wenqu Stele’s vitality, had never joined the Academy.

If An Le joined the Martial Temple, his presence might revive the suppressed military faction under the Great Zhao’s “literary supremacy over martial power” policy. With such a prodigy, the Martial Temple could perhaps overshadow the Academy for five hundred years!

Such a prospect was intolerable to Pang Ji, who had poured his heart into the Academy.

The three Academy masters each had different temperaments. First Master Zhu Huoxi focused on Neo-Confucianism and was indifferent to disputes between the Academy and the Martial Temple. Third Master Wang Banshan disliked the mingling of scholars with officials and constantly clamored for reform and separation. Only Second Master Pang Ji was wholly devoted to the Academy and its future, standing in stark opposition to the Martial Temple.

“I brought the Martial Temple’s Wukuai Stone as the martial examination’s test not merely to assess cultivation, but to measure candidates’ breakthroughs in their martial path limits. This is fairness itself,” Di Cang said, exhaling. “The struggle over orthodoxy between the Academy and Martial Temple has lasted ten thousand years. We need not hinder a candidate’s future because of it, do we, Second Master?”

“Moreover, dragging a single youth into the Academy-Martial Temple conflict only invites ridicule,” Pang Ji sighed, looking at Di Cang. “You understand it is a fight between the two factions.”

Di Cang fell silent, knowing Pang Ji’s nature well—he was willing to sacrifice much for the Academy.

In recent years, under the Great Zhao’s policy favoring culture over arms, many Martial Temple generals had been suppressed, losing more often than winning in contests against the Academy. It was a glorious era of literary dominance.

An Le’s appearance brought new worries to Pang Ji. This youth, who frequently summoned the martial champions’ spectral forms, might lead the Martial Temple’s resurgence.

His decision to support Chancellor Qin was a firm one, prompted by An Le’s repeated disturbances in the martial examinations.

Di Cang knew Pang Ji would not change his mind lightly.

Thus, the flames of conflict between the Academy and Martial Temple had inevitably engulfed An Le.

Though neither faction had accepted him yet, the boy’s talent and gift made him the very source of the storm.

Outside the Hall of Heavenly Mystery, An Le was somewhat surprised. He knew Chancellor Qin’s words targeted not just himself but also the Lin family.

Yet the appearance of the Academy’s Second Master felt like an arrow aimed directly at him.

An Le paused, uncertain of the full situation.

By his recollection, he had spoken amiably with the First Master and had a good rapport with the Third Master. The Second Master had only once met him at Heartwood Forest, appearing kindly then.

Yet now, it seemed the literati’s cunning had stabbed him in the back.

“You understand the Academy-Martial Temple orthodoxy dispute,” whispered Ye Wenxi, the gentle girl who had been gifted to him, her soft voice drifting like spring breezes into his ear.

“You must have declined the Academy’s invitation, right?” Ye Wenxi smiled with dignified grace, the perfect image of a refined lady.

An Le nodded, and she explained further about the bitter rivalry between the two factions.

Only then did An Le grasp the severity of their conflict.

For the moment, it seemed he was no longer the central concern.

Standing side by side, Ye Wenxi spoke softly, while An Le nodded and quietly absorbed the “Aura of Time” from her presence.

Since stepping onto the White Jade Plaza that day, he had been preparing for the imperial examination and had not had time to gather this vital essence. Now, as the court’s dispute erupted, he seized the chance.

From the gifted girl, he drew five strands of the Aura of Time. Likewise, Sima Pudu, Wang Qilin, Zhong Taohua, and the slowly rising Qin Hua’an each contributed five strands, totaling twenty-five strands effortlessly absorbed.

While An Le joyfully absorbed the aura outside the hall, inside, the atmosphere grew heavier as the energies between Di Cang and the Second Master clashed.

The Zhao sovereign remained silent upon the throne.

Below him, the assembly of civil and military officials teemed with thoughts. Many civil officials exchanged glances, their eyes shining with understanding.

The Academy of Letters was the cradle of civil officials; most had risen through it and once shone on the Wenqu list.

Many were students of the Second Master.

Thus, when the Second Master voiced support, many civil officials sprang from their ranks, stepping forward with sweeping sleeves to make a formal bow and voice their support for Chancellor Qin.

Those belonging to Qin’s faction spoke freely, but even officials from other factions stood out in support.

Everyone knew Chancellor Qin’s aim was not to target An Le personally but to strike at the Lin family, a martial noble house.

Civil officials, born from the Academy, were naturally enthusiastic about suppressing martial families, thus willing to aid the cause.

Even Qin Lishi himself showed slight doubt but remained outwardly respectful, bowing deeply.

His rejection of the Martial Temple’s use of the Wukuai Stone as the martial examination’s standard was merely a test, not a serious attempt to redo the trial.

His true purpose was to draw a sword and point it at the Lin family, igniting the forthcoming turmoil.

Though Qin Lishi hoped An Le would fail to place in the top three of the imperial examination — which would allow him to use law to detain and cripple the so-called prodigy — he was indifferent even if An Le succeeded.

If the law could be leveraged, all the better; if not, he would bide his time.

Qin Lishi was patient.

With Zhao Huangting’s time running out and the Canglang River battles intensifying, Li You’an could not linger in Lin’an Prefecture. And under today’s storm, the Lin family was bound to undergo great upheaval.

Thus, An Le’s support base crumbled like withering blossoms, leaving him exposed. Without backing, Qin Lishi had many means to eliminate the youth, just as he had quietly removed rivals over the years to ascend to chancellor.

His attack on An Le was more about brandishing power against the Lin family.

Most importantly, this was not just Qin Lishi’s personal vendetta but tied to the Zhao sovereign himself. Qin Lishi was simply the blade the emperor wielded to suppress the Lin family—and he was eager to be that blade.

Inside the Hall, the atmosphere shifted subtly.

Li You’an frowned slightly as he regarded the white-robed, silver-haired Second Master. He, too, was puzzled by the man’s presence and involvement in such affairs.

Madam Hua’s expression grew colder, emotionless but resolute beneath her icy facade.

The elderly matriarch lightly shook her head, leaning on her dragon-headed cane.

Madam Ye, also a titled noble, revealed a trace of unease, her poised brow furrowing at the Second Master’s appearance complicating matters.

The oppressive silence lingered.

Facing the officials’ bows and speeches, the Zhao sovereign continued to ponder.

At last, the eldest prince stepped forward, bowing respectfully.

“Your Majesty, I believe Chancellor Qin’s reasoning is sound, and Second Master’s words carry merit. To avoid unfairness, the Academy never used the Wenqu Stele because An Le once stirred its vitality. Yet Di Cang disregards this, bringing in the Wukuai Stone…”

“Enough. I understand your meaning,” the sovereign interrupted gently.

The eldest prince fell silent, bowing and stepping aside.

The Imperial Fur Court attendant returned to the emperor’s side, lowering his gaze gracefully.

The Zhao sovereign’s eyes swept across the Hall, beyond the white jade steps, finally resting on the two whispering figures beside the entrance—Ye Wenxi and An Le, who was joyfully absorbing the Aura of Time.

Sensing the emperor’s gaze, Ye Wenxi’s expression flickered with the embarrassment of being caught in a minor act. She immediately composed herself, standing upright beside An Le, her pale fingers lightly tracing the hilt of her small Zhongshan sword at her waist.

“Chancellor Qin and Second Master’s points have merit, but the Martial Temple’s use of the Wukuai Stone reflects the seriousness of this imperial examination…” she spoke with refined poise.

“The Academy and Martial Temple have nurtured talents for millennia. I treat both equally.”

“Let us compromise: cancel the direct promotion of the top candidate to champion. Restore the third round of trials. But to honor An Le’s dual champion status, Ye Wenxi will suppress her cultivation to match his level. The victor will be the Great Zhao champion. How does that sound?”

The emperor’s tone lacked royal grandeur, but as his words fell, Chancellor Qin immediately knelt, kowtowing, “Your Majesty is wise.”

Following him, the eldest prince and many civil officials echoed, “Your Majesty is wise.”

The acclamation rolled like waves across the Hall, resonating around the dragon pillars.

A faint smile played on the Zhao sovereign’s lips.

Neither Di Cang nor the Second Master spoke.

All eyes turned to the two figures beneath the white jade steps—An Le and Ye Wenxi.

A spring breeze stirred the wide white sleeves of the youth’s robe.

An Le stood silently, meeting the emperor’s gaze from the throne, his face serene and unreadable.

From the sovereign’s eyes, he sensed an expectation of gratitude, as though this compromise was a favor granted to him.

A sudden hush fell inside and outside the Hall.

Scholars who had passed the preliminary lists, as well as the kneeling officials, waited expectantly for An Le’s reply.

After a moment, An Le smiled, straightening his posture and meeting the gaze descending from the throne.

Yet before he spoke, Ye Wenxi bowed gracefully.

“Your Majesty, let the contest be waived. I see no dispute or unfairness in An Gongzi’s dual champion status.”

“I grew up observing the Wukuai Stone; An Gongzi has only studied it twice. Would such a comparison not be unfair to him?”

“Therefore, Your Majesty, I do not wish to contest with An Gongzi.”

Her voice was gentle yet resolute.

The Hall fell utterly silent.

The Zhao sovereign’s eyes darkened with a colder glint.

Ye Longsheng’s granddaughter indeed inherited his stubborn spirit.

Below, the officials’ emotions shifted. Ye Wenxi’s status was sensitive.

Li You’an smiled, admiration shining in his eyes. Vice Chancellor Ouyang Xiangru stroked his beard, smiling softly.

Madam Hua and the elderly matriarch also showed subtle approval and gratitude; Ye Wenxi’s stance eased the Lin family’s plight and calmed the turmoil.

Madam Ye smiled quietly, pleased with Ye Wenxi’s conduct.

The Zhao sovereign’s gaze shifted to An Le.

“An Le, what is your opinion?” he asked.

At that moment, the Imperial Fur Court attendant lifted his eyes slowly, a mighty aura surging from his thin frame, glaring at An Le as if demanding a proper response.

Facing this pressure, An Le smiled, his Courage Heart Dao Fruit trembling slightly, and the Heroic Spirit weaving around him.

“Your Majesty, if you truly feel this imperial examination witnessed by your own eyes is not fair, then abolish the champion title altogether. There is no need for Miss Wenxi to suppress her cultivation to compete with me. On the Sacred List, she and I will face each other in due time.”

“To require Miss Wenxi to suppress her cultivation is an insult. Such a champion title is not worth having.”

“Therefore, I do not wish to contest with Miss Wenxi.”

His words were calm and composed, carrying the weight of the attendant’s pressure, yet spoken with a hint of jest, lingering in the palace air.

If fairness is lacking, then abolish the champion title.

That title is not worth having.

His words complicated the expressions of those scholars on the preliminary lists.

Within the court, officials murmured in surprise.

The Zhao sovereign sat upright, his gaze sharpening.

He had not expected both An Le and Ye Wenxi to refuse his proposal.

He had clearly offered An Le a way out, a chance to rise as champion.

Yet An Le’s indifference to the title stung like a thorn in the emperor’s heart.

Losing this title would shatter An Le’s legendary path and strip his right to converse with the Holy Master. How could he be so calm?

Suddenly, the sovereign felt a flash of aversion—like encountering the defiant Ye Longsheng himself.

Yet he concealed it, reclining in his chair with a detached gaze.

The Imperial Fur Court attendant intensified his aura, like a mountain pressing down, seeking to bend the straight backs of An Le and Ye Wenxi beneath him.

But they stood firm.

After a moment, the sovereign lightly patted the armrest, his voice commanding and unyielding:

“Since you both refuse to contest, so be it. An Le, as the dual champion, shall be declared the champion. Ye Wenxi as the runner-up, and Wang Qilin as third place.”

“There shall be no further debate.”

At these words, the officials fell silent.

Even Chancellor Qin offered no dissent, knowing that opposing the emperor now would bring misfortune.

Though An Le had achieved champion status, his defiance stung the emperor deeply—Qin Lishi’s plan had partly succeeded.

Li You’an, Ouyang Xiangru, Madam Hua, and others had not expected the matter to end so lightly.

The Zhao sovereign chose not to pursue the issue further.

Still, An Le’s words effectively blocked any further imperial orders; after all, to question the champion chosen before the emperor’s eyes would be to question the emperor himself.

Outside the Hall, the oppressive aura dissipated suddenly.

An Le and Ye Wenxi exchanged a knowing smile.

The Zhao sovereign remained seated, the court’s atmosphere heavy and tense.

The Imperial Fur Court attendant stepped forward, and the spear, great blade, and longbow at his back radiated immense spiritual energy.

A buzzing sound filled the air.

The three weapons were enveloped in mighty aura and levitated to the center of the Hall.

The officials respectfully stepped aside, standing silently.

All hearts trembled as they gazed upon the floating treasures with complex expressions.

The top three in the imperial examination were to receive precious weaponry as prizes—a highlight of the trial.

Yet none had foreseen that the champion would be a youthful prodigy no one ever expected.

A youth of invincible aura, treading a legendary path, dazzling and brilliant.

Originally, it was thought Chancellor Qin’s orchestration of awarding the “Calming the Storm” sword was meant to pressure the Lin family.

Now, with An Le, closely connected to the Lin family, crowned champion, Qin’s scheme seemed to fail.

The attendant stepped forward, purple robe billowing, eyes sharp.

He looked beyond the Hall and announced sharply:

“The third place of the imperial examination, Wang Qilin, enter the Hall to receive your reward!”

Wang Qilin, clad in splendid robes, flame-like aura enveloping him, strode boldly up the steps, crossing the white jade dais.

Under the watchful eyes of officials, he entered the palace, bowing respectfully toward the high throne.

Upon the throne, the Zhao sovereign’s lips curled into a slight smile as he quietly spoke a few words.

The attendant bowed deeply, his pale, bearded face flickering with surprise.

He approached Wang Qilin and announced in a sharp voice:

“The Emperor decrees that Wang Qilin of the Wang family, having performed excellently in the imperial examination and earned third place, is hereby awarded the treasured sword ‘Calming the Storm’…”

The words fell.

A chill ran down Wang Qilin’s spine; he looked up in disbelief. What madness was this?

The entire palace fell into a heavy silence.

Upon the throne, the Zhao sovereign’s gaze gleamed with amusement.

[End of excerpt.]

P.S.: Please support with monthly votes and recommendation tickets! You know the background and the direction clearly by now.