“How so?” Zhao Li asked hurriedly.
“The Ziwei imperial qi Your Highness bears is the most orthodox wisp of imperial fortune between heaven and earth.
With imperial qi gracing your person, heavenly and earthly law fragments will naturally draw close to Your Highness.
Like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, or ten thousand birds paying homage to the phoenix.
Others must search bitterly amid the aftermath of the sword intent.
Your Highness only needs to open your mind, and those sword intent fragments will surge in of their own accord.”
Having said this, Qingyangzi paused briefly, lowering his voice by several degrees.
“What is more, the character ‘Li’ in Your Highness’s name is the name of a river.
Water is both utmost soft and utmost firm; it can carry a boat, and it can capsize it.
Jinyang City faces the Eastern Sea.
When Your Highness stands atop that city wall, with Mount Jinyang at your back and the waters of the Eastern Sea before you,
metal generates water, water nourishes dragons, and dragons command the heavens.
This is an alignment where Heaven, Earth, and Man merge into one.”
He extended an emaciated finger, dipped it into a few droplets of wine on the red sandalwood table, and drew a simple directional chart.
“Your Highness, look.
Jinyang City sits in the north and faces the south.
To the north is Mount Jinyang, and to the south is the Eastern Sea Bay.
If Your Highness observes the battle from atop Wangchao Pavilion, the highest vantage point in the northern city,
you will have a mountain of gold at your back and the boundless sea before you.
Having a golden mountain to lean on means Your Highness’s foundation in the Martial Dao will be as solid as a fortress.
Having the sea before you means the path of the Martial Dao lying ahead of Your Highness will be vast and boundless.
And Your Highness’s Ziwei imperial qi is the dragon qi activated between this golden mountain and the great sea.”
He lifted his eyes and looked straight at Zhao Li.
“This poor Daoist has divined for Your Highness countless times, yet I have never seen an opportunity where heavenly timing, earthly advantage, and human harmony are so completely aligned.
After this battle, Your Highness will at least be able to step into the Abyss-Facing Realm.
If fortune favors you and you capture the innermost core wisps of sword intent fragments that burst forth when the two sword immortals unleash their full-strength strikes,
stepping directly into the Wind-Riding Realm is not out of the question.”
“Directly into the Wind-Riding Realm?”
Hearing this, Zhao Li’s breathing grew several shades heavier.
“A twenty-six-year-old Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster? Wouldn’t that match Sword Immortal Shen’s cultivation speed back in the day?”
“Indeed. If Your Highness can step into this realm at the age of twenty-six,
you will be the person of highest martial talent in the Grand Zhao imperial family across three hundred years.
When that time comes, what will the pedantic scholars spouting archaic nonsense under the First Prince, or the bald donkeys chanting sutras and abstaining from meat under the Second Prince, have to compare against Your Highness?”
Qingyangzi drained the remaining wine in his cup, a meaningful smile rising at the corners of his mouth.
“Furthermore, if Your Highness enters the Wind-Riding Realm, martial artists throughout the realm will look upon Your Highness with newfound respect.
The forces of the martial world are the very forces that can truly sway the balance of the world.”
Zhao Li reclined against the brocade soft couch, his eyes slightly narrowed as his fingers lightly tapped the small table.
He thought of his elder brother who revered Confucianism, quoting classics before Imperial Father all day, babbling “the Master said” and “the poems say” at every turn, wishing he could replace every minister in the imperial court with pedants from the Imperial Academy.
He also thought of his second brother who believed in Buddhism, maintaining a vegetarian diet and chanting sutras to feign benevolence, yet secretly colluding with that old castrated wretch Cao Zhengchun behind closed doors to fortify the Directorate of Ceremonial like an iron barrel.
And what about himself?
He had nothing, only a princely manor and eight hundred retainers.
Yet if he could step into the Wind-Riding Realm at twenty-six, everything would change.
The appeal of an imperial prince at the level of a Martial Arts Grandmaster toward the martial world was something neither of his two elder brothers could ever match.
“Good.”
Zhao Li slammed his palm onto the small table, causing the bowls and dishes to jump in unison.
“I shall take the Daoist Master’s auspicious words and reap an immense fortune here in Jinyang City!”
Qingyangzi nodded slightly, tucked the Black Iron Heaven-Measuring Ruler back at his waist, and rose to take his leave.
When he reached the carriage curtain, he suddenly stopped and looked back at Zhao Li.
“Your Highness, this poor Daoist has one more thing to say, though I do not know if it is appropriate to voice.”
“Speak freely, Daoist Master.”
Qingyangzi remained silent for a breath, an imperceptible trace of gravity flashing through his eyes.
“Although the Ziwei imperial qi Your Highness bears is an immense blessing, there is also a hidden danger.
Imperial qi belongs to fire, and Your Highness’s name carries water; water and fire can naturally reconcile each other.
However, the ten-thousand-year metallic and iron qi of Mount Jinyang is far too sharp. If Your Highness’s state of mind falters while observing the battle and that sharp metallic qi invades your body, it will shatter the balance between water and fire.
When that happens, at best your martial cultivation will be obstructed, and at worst...”
He did not finish his words, only cupping his hands with deep meaning.
“In short, Your Highness must empty your mind and let nature take its course while watching the duel; you must not force anything.
When fortune arrives, it will come naturally; if fortune has not arrived, forcing it will only invite harm.”
Zhao Li waved his hand dismissively.
“Understood, understood. I know what I am doing. Go back and rest, Daoist Master.”
Seeing his utterly unconcerned manner, Qingyangzi said nothing more in the end, only sighing silently before lifting the curtain and stepping out.
The night wind poured into the carriage, making the candlelight flicker wildly.
Zhao Li leaned back onto the soft couch once more, and the maidservants hurriedly leaned close again.
Holding his wine cup, he gazed at the night scenery rushing past outside the carriage window, the smile at the corners of his mouth impossible to suppress.
A twenty-six-year-old Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster.
In the three hundred years since Grand Zhao was founded, when had such an imperial prince ever emerged?
He turned this phrase over and over in his mind, chewing on it several times, finding endless delight the more he pondered it.
As for Qingyangzi’s final reminder, it had long been cast to the back of his mind.
What sharp metallic qi? What balance between water and fire?
He, Zhao Li, bore the Ziwei imperial qi—what could he not suppress?
Compare blessed fortune?
Who under heaven could surpass him, Zhao Li?
...
Three days later.
The rice paddies flanking both sides of the official road were gradually replaced by vast swathes of houses, streets, and alleys.
The first tea stall appeared along the roadside, followed by a second, then a third, and then continuous rows of shops and residences.
Blue bricks and dark tiles with flying eaves and upturned corners.
All kinds of plaques hung above the lintels: shops selling silks and satins, medicinal herbs, rouge and powder, as well as blacksmiths and metal-casting workshops.
The rhythmic clanging of iron hammers striking anvils rose and fell, blending with the hawking of street peddlers, the neighing of mules and horses, and the laughter and chatter of passersby into a noisy and vibrant din.
The official road ceased to be an official road here.
Instead, it became a straight and broad bluestone avenue.
At the end of the avenue, a majestic city rose abruptly from the ground.
The city walls stood over three zhang high, built from massive bluestones.
At regular intervals along the battlements stood standard flags embroidered with the two large characters “Jinyang.”
They snapped loudly in the wind.
The city gates stood wide open, with a long line stretching outside.
The city-guarding soldiers stood in two ranks, inspecting the travel passes and cargo of passersby one by one, occasionally questioning those who caught their suspicion with thorough scrutiny.
Qin Tiegu reined in his horse and looked up at the three enormous gilded characters above the city gate.
Jinyang City.
The calligraphy flowed like flying dragons and dancing phoenixes with sharp strokes, clearly revealing at a glance that it had been penned by a martial artist of immense stature.
“We’re finally here.”
Qin Tiegu let out a long breath, his voice tinged with the emotion of a great relief.
A-Tong jumped down from the carriage and stood on tiptoe to gaze at the majestic city gate, his mouth hanging open wide enough to stuff an egg inside.
“This is Jinyang City? It’s so huge! It’s countless times bigger than our Furnace-Listening Pavilion!”
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