Chapter 288 : The Southern Chu Threat
Chapter 288: The Southern Chu Threat
“Your Highness, forgive my boldness, but this marriage between Miss Xia and Your Highness—His Majesty was not aware of it at first. It was the Princess Yong’an who strongly pushed for it, along with several outer court officials like Lord Chen advising His Majesty, which led to this misunderstanding…”
On the way, that young eunuch whispered his explanation to Chen Ming, ending with, “His Majesty is now bestowing the marriage to Your Highness and Miss Xia as a way of making amends. The Emperor holds high expectations for Your Highness and does not wish for this matter to cause any rift between you.”
“How would this humble servant dare harbor resentment? I will always remember His Majesty’s benevolence.”
Chen Ming responded immediately.
But in his heart, he thought—this little eunuch was talking a bit too much.
Who knew if this was truly the Emperor’s intention?
Regardless, since the other party said it like this, he might as well listen for now.
Before long, they arrived at the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Before the eunuch even entered, the Emperor’s voice rang out from inside, “Is it Loyal Subject Gu arriving? Quickly, invite him in.”
The voice indeed sounded a bit weak.
Chen Ming followed the eunuch into the hall, where he saw the Emperor half-lying on a brocade couch. The Empress was sitting beside him, holding a bowl of ginseng soup, feeding him personally.
He immediately saluted, “Greetings to Your Majesty and Your Majesty the Empress.”
He had originally intended to kneel, but when his eyes met those of the old eunuch by the bed, cloudy and dull, his knees just wouldn’t bend.
“No need for such formality,” the Emperor said. “Now that Loyal Subject Gu is here, let’s speak of official matters first before drinking more.”
The latter sentence was directed at the Empress.
The Empress was unmoved. The spoon in her hand remained firmly at his lips, her meaning clear: drink the ginseng soup first.
Soon, the Emperor gave in and obediently finished the soup.
The Empress gently wiped the corners of his mouth, then rose and left.
Everyone present saluted in unison, respectfully sending off the Empress.
The Emperor waved his hand, summoning Chen Ming over. “Loyal Subject Gu, come speak with Us.”
“Your Majesty.”
Chen Ming obeyed, standing respectfully beside the couch.
“As for Miss Xia, it was Our oversight. We nearly broke apart a destined pair. Fortunately, it was discovered in time, and no great error was made. Letting two people in love be together—better late than never.”
“Your Majesty is magnanimous, and did not pursue the Xia Clan’s crime of deceiving the monarch. Truly, a benevolent ruler for the ages.” Chen Ming offered a flattering remark.
Flattery always works.
A blush of color returned to the Emperor’s pale face, though he still put on a stern expression and said, “Do not say such things again. There is no shortage of sycophants around Us. What We need are people who can truly get things done. Loyal Subject, are you willing to assist Us in achieving great deeds?”
“Graced with Your Majesty’s recognition, this subject is willing to shed blood and sacrifice life without regret.”
“Excellent!”
The Emperor grew somewhat excited and sat up, “With Loyal Subject Gu’s assistance, there will be no worries from either the Northern Frontier or the Southern Chu.”
…
When Chen Ming left the Hall of Mental Cultivation, he was finally a bit more at ease.
This Emperor did not seem like someone scheming and manipulative. On the contrary, he appeared somewhat naïve. After chatting for just a while, the Emperor had already gotten carried away, as if pacifying the Northern Frontier and destroying Southern Chu were just around the corner.
As an emperor, wasn't he being a bit too optimistic?
Or rather—
“Is he putting a bit too much blind faith in me?”
Chen Ming, instead, felt a bit guilty.
Only he knew that clearing the Tower of Merits was all thanks to the Nine Nether Demon Venerable’s support. In truth, while he did possess some military ability, he was still far from being a renowned general.
If the Emperor really intended to give him command of a hundred thousand troops to pacify the Northern Frontier, that would be quite the joke.
Fortunately, the Emperor was aware that such an arrangement was unrealistic and would provoke unanimous opposition from the ministers. He made no such proposal. Instead, he granted him the right to establish his own residence and staff.
That’s why he was given the title “Prince of Linjiang” instead of another princely rank.
From this alone, one could see how high the Emperor’s expectations were of him. Unfortunately, the Emperor had little to offer in actual support—no fiefdom, no provisions, no manpower.
To put it bluntly, he was a commander with no troops, a Prince of Linjiang in name only.
The only real item the Emperor gave him was the Xuantian Battle Armor—a peerless divine armor, said to be the personal protective gear of the greatest general from the previous dynasty, who had been the Founding Ancestor of Great Jin’s strongest opponent.
Later, after the Founding Ancestor of Great Jin killed him, the armor became the most prized trophy and was stored in the palace ever since.
Now, the Emperor had even given up this hidden treasure to him—clearly, he truly had nothing else to give.
In addition, the Emperor also bestowed upon him a mansion in the capital as his royal residence.
“Why does something feel off?”
The more Chen Ming thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
The Emperor appeared to value him greatly—granting him a title, a marriage, and treasures—but the actual support was minimal.
It felt like the Emperor was painting a big picture.
Offering an empty promise, then sending him off to fight for real.
Perhaps he’d even have to wrest his own fiefdom from Southern Chu.
If he succeeded, the Emperor would reap the biggest benefit.
If he failed, the Emperor wouldn’t lose much.
…
When Chen Ming left the imperial palace, he felt a little dazed. Too many things had happened in just one visit. He no longer had to go on the run. Instead, he had suddenly become a prince.
Though he was just a commander with no troops, he was still a legitimate prince. His status was exalted. Even a first-grade official of the current dynasty would have to bow before him.
Truly, life’s highs and lows were a wild ride—utterly exhilarating.
Chen Ming followed a few eunuchs to his royal residence. It had originally been an imperial garden. With a mere stroke of the Emperor’s brush, it was granted to him as his mansion.
After all, it had been five hundred years since the founding of Great Jin—there were no vacant estates left for reward.
When Chen Ming arrived and saw the place, it was truly resplendent. Compared to the imperial palace, it lacked little.
This imperial garden had been constructed over a decade by a former emperor a hundred years ago, meant for hiding his beloved beauty.
It was said that the Emperor had fallen in love with a stunning beauty but couldn’t make her the official Empress due to ancestral rules. So, he built this garden and made her its sole mistress.
Thus, it became known as the True Phoenix Palace.
Chen Ming was very satisfied with the place and moved in the same day. He simply changed the plaque over the gate, and it became the Prince of Linjiang’s Residence.
The next day, countless guests came bearing gifts—cartloads of them. The eunuchs and palace attendants temporarily acting as stewards of the mansion were utterly exhausted.
Chen Ming did not meet any of the visitors. He only accepted the gifts.
He secluded himself in the bedchamber to cultivate—mainly to comprehend the Nine Heavens Divine Thunder.
The cultivation path differed significantly from that of martial artists.
Cultivators harnessed the power of heaven and earth, unleashing forces far beyond their physical limits. If given enough preparation time, a first-grade cultivator’s spell could annihilate even a Divine Repository Realm expert.
Martial artists, by contrast, refined only themselves and were less susceptible to inner demons.
These two paths each had their pros and cons.
Of course, there were cultivation techniques that combined both—like the Heaven’s Path Alliance’s Heart of Heaven Manual, which clearly merged martial and cultivation paths.
This Nine Heavens Divine Thunder was among the most destructive of all spells.
Moreover, it was a bane to other cultivators.
Its only downside—it was incredibly difficult to master. The requirements were extremely strict. Among the heirs of the Celestial Master Residence throughout history, few had succeeded in cultivating this thunder technique.
Naturally, for Chen Ming, this was not a problem. He only needed to get started.
What he lacked was a deadly trump card—and this Nine Heavens Divine Thunder fit perfectly.
…
A few days later, after nightfall, Chen Ming felt it was about time. He silently chanted three times in his heart, “Daoist Master Wang Chenzi, Daoist Master Wang Chenzi, Daoist Master Wang Chenzi…”
A wisp of consciousness entered that mysterious cavern, where he met the sage-like old Daoist.
The old Daoist smiled, “It seems you’ve successfully left the Nine Nether Tower.”
Chen Ming said, “I was just lucky.”
“Did you encounter that one inside the tower?”
“I did. And… quite a lot happened.”
He gave a rough account of what had transpired in the Nine Nether Tower, omitting only the part about destroying the Celestial Master’s Yang Spirit with the God-Smiting Thorn.
If this old Daoist knew that he had already cultivated that forbidden technique to the fourth layer, he’d probably die of shock.
The old Daoist nodded in realization, “So it was the Undying Demon Venerable who planted a demonic thought in him. No wonder.”
Then, he suddenly stared at Chen Ming for a moment. “I see purple energy above your head—extremely auspicious. You must now hold a rank higher than marquis.”
Chen Ming responded with respect, “Daoist Master has sharp eyes. You can even see that?”
“A mere trivial art.”
He seized the chance to ask, “Daoist Master, you’re well-traveled—what do you know of Southern Chu?”
“Southern Chu? This poor Daoist once lived there for a time. But that was a full sixty years ago. I have no idea how it’s changed since.”
“In your opinion, how does Southern Chu compare to Great Jin?”
“Southern Chu is like a rising sun. Great Jin, on the other hand, is somewhat like the sun setting in the west.”
Chen Ming asked curiously, “You mean to say Southern Chu is thriving? But why?”
Logically, Southern Chu had also existed for five hundred years—it should suffer the same ailments, and its national strength was even weaker. How could it be like the rising sun?
The old Daoist said, “Because Southern Chu produced an extraordinary figure. Under his governance, the country’s strength has flourished.”
“What kind of figure?”
Chen Ming truly hadn’t heard of this. His knowledge of Southern Chu was extremely limited—he didn’t even know their current era name.
The old Daoist shook his head. “His true name must not be spoken. Some call him Prime Minister Wen, others honor him as Lord Wen. Since you now rank higher than marquis, you’ll eventually learn of him.”
Chen Ming grew more curious, “Why must his name not be spoken?”
“His cultivation far exceeds mine. He possesses great divine powers. Mentioning his name will draw his awareness.”
Ah, I know that trick.
Chen Ming thought to himself. So this Southern Chu prime minister—probably a prime minister—was someone who possessed grand magical abilities.
But such a figure wasn’t hiding away in seclusion—why was he meddling in worldly affairs?