“You say that the Great Shang Empire will perish within a thousand years?”
“Your Majesty, forgive me. The Heavenly Profound hexagram indeed reveals this clearly. This old minister would not dare to deceive you.”
Inside the Great Shang Empire’s Imperial Palace, within the Main Hall of the Heavenly Profound complex, celestial mechanisms turned as though stars themselves shifted overhead. Before the all-encompassing celestial compass stood over a hundred officials in court robes, hands clasped and bodies bowed in unison, their expressions tense to the extreme.
At the front of the hall, Emperor Long Cang stood in his dragon robe before the vast star-array instrument. Spiritual energy shimmered around it as the Eight Trigrams formation array rotated, and countless stars flowed across its surface like an endless sea.
Long Cang’s face was calm and unreadable. As he gazed into the swirling stellar projection, a trace of barely perceptible astonishment flickered across his ancient eyes, then vanished.
The officials of the Heavenly Profound Observatory were cultivators dedicated to calculating the destiny of the Great Shang Empire. They also monitored every development within its borders.
Weather, disasters, fortune and calamity, past, present, and future—almost nothing escaped their divinations.
“So according to you, the Great Shang Empire will fall within a thousand years. Does that mean I am about to die?” Long Cang asked evenly, and even he found the thought faintly absurd.
He was an Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner, one of the most powerful beings on this continent.
His lifespan extended for tens of thousands of years. He was not yet even 10,000 years old, his body strong, his vitality abundant. How could he possibly die?
Unless an external enemy invaded, or multiple Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioners joined forces to suppress him.
But even that seemed impossible. Even if pursued by two or more Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioners, he was confident he could withdraw unscathed.
“This old minister would never imply such a thing. May Your Majesty live for ten thousand years. You will certainly not fall.”
The words sent fear through the gathered officials, and they immediately dropped to their knees.
They had calculated that the Great Shang Empire would perish, but that did not mean the Emperor himself would die.
The rise and fall of dynasties had always followed such patterns throughout history. The Great Shang Empire had declined before, only for the Emperor to reverse the tide and restore its glory.
But this hexagram was unlike any before. It was a death hexagram. A nation-destroying omen. Irreversible.
The officials of the Heavenly Profound Observatory had recalculated countless times, suspecting error. Yet no matter how they computed it, the result remained the same. At last, they had no choice but to report it to the Emperor.
“If I do not die, then how will the Great Shang Empire fall?” Long Cang asked.
Hearing the reassurance, his heart steadied slightly.
“Your Majesty, the hexagram only reveals a fatal omen within a thousand years. It does not indicate the specific cause. This old minister is incompetent and deserves death.”
Cold sweat trickled down the foreheads of the officials as Long Cang continued to reason aloud.
“If my Great Shang Empire is to fall, there are only two possibilities.”
“First, the demon race launches a massive invasion and fully occupies human territory. In that case, the Great Shang Empire would indeed be considered destroyed.”
If the demon race attacked on a large scale, their overwhelming numbers and battle strength could easily crush the human cultivation world. No matter how powerful the Great Shang Empire was, it would be forced to retreat, abandoning the mainland and fleeing overseas.
“The second possibility is that an Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner is born within the Empire, or one from outside arrives and overthrows my Great Shang.”
“Your Majesty is wise. In this old minister’s opinion, only these two scenarios are possible.”
“Your Majesty is wise.”
The officials quickly echoed in agreement.
Their reasoning was the same. The Emperor was in his prime, his cultivation level already at the terrifying Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner stage. Anyone who wished to overthrow the Great Shang Empire would either have to be another Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner or command a large-scale demon invasion.
They could think of no other explanation.
“A thousand years…” Long Cang murmured.
For ordinary mortals, a thousand years meant ten centuries, unimaginably long.
For Long Cang, however, it was not long at all. Sometimes a single closed-door cultivation session would consume several hundred years.
“If a single outsider learns of this matter, their entire clan will be executed.”
Long Cang’s gaze turned cold as overwhelming Emperor-level spiritual pressure filled the Main Hall.
The officials prostrated themselves, trembling violently, not daring to resist.
…
In Bingze City, snow blanketed the frozen wasteland region for thousands of kilometers.
On the roof of the City Lord’s Residence, Li Changsheng stood quietly, his gaze stretching toward the distant land.
The people of the city lived modest but stable lives. Most had never traveled beyond its borders, surviving generation after generation by fishing.
The city housed over 1 million residents, capable of basic self-sufficiency. Yet even so, ninety percent of its people still lacked true freedom in food and clothing.
The Great Shang Empire imposed heavy taxes every year. Li Changsheng looked down at the memorial in his hands.
He had written it a month ago, riding at full speed. It proposed regulated maritime fishing—specifically prohibiting the capture of female sea creatures to preserve sustainable cycles.
The response contained only two words: “As before.”
Everything would continue as before. Whenever the Emperor and officials in the Imperial Capital craved fish roe or crab roe, tons upon tons would be demanded as tribute.
Setting aside the sheer difficulty of such harvesting, if this continued, within less than a century Bingze City would be emptied of marine resources. It would become a deserted, lifeless city.
If even the Emperor lacked the awareness of sustaining life and preserving cycles, then after existing for so many years, the Empire would eventually consume the continent’s resources to exhaustion.
Li Changsheng had once planned to siphon away the Empire’s fortune and become its greatest corrupt official. But after assuming his post in Bingze City, he found himself unable to act.
If he embezzled funds, it would be the common people who suffered.
Every coin of corruption came at the expense of countless livelihoods. He could try to squeeze wealth from the rich, but even the rich had wrung it from the people first.
Unless he served in the wealthy Imperial Capital, where rich merchants were plentiful and profits abundant.
Below, workers loaded cargo. The carts were packed with ice and wooden crates filled with female sea creatures and freshly preserved fish roe and crab roe.
Cart after cart rolled forward, together weighing over 100 tons after water removal.
“City Lord, everything is prepared,” an official called from below.
Li Changsheng sighed softly and said, “Depart.”
At his command, the tribute convoy moved in grand procession toward the Imperial Capital.
It was the transition between winter and early spring. The entire Great Shang Empire remained in cold weather, making this the ideal time for transport.
Li Changsheng led the convoy without obstruction. No bandit dared to intercept an official procession.
One month later, when they reached the Imperial Capital, the ice had melted just enough. The female sea creatures were spawning, and the fish roe and crab roe were at their most delicious.
“Lord Li, haven’t you heard? The Emperor has decided to abdicate.”
“What?”
“It’s true. The announcement was made last month.”
“Who will be the next Emperor?”
“No one knows. His Majesty declared that the next Emperor will be elected jointly by all officials of the Empire. All Princes with Spiritual Root Aptitude have voting rights and may participate.”
“The term is ten years. Any Prince with Spiritual Root Aptitude who wishes to become Emperor must win the support of officials across the Empire to secure their votes.”
“That is something new.”
“Indeed. For the Emperor to step down willingly is earth-shaking.”
Li Changsheng had just arrived in the Imperial Capital when he heard this shocking news.
The Emperor intended to abdicate—and introduce an electoral system.
All officials of county magistrate rank and above would vote. Whichever Prince received the most votes would become the next Emperor, serving a ten-year term. This chapter was copied from novelping(.)com without permission.
Within those ten years, each Prince with Spiritual Root Aptitude would display their abilities, courting officials across the Empire in pursuit of that precious vote.
The news had already shaken the court. In other regions, it was still spreading.
The next day, Li Changsheng attended court as usual to greet the Emperor and report on Bingze City’s condition before returning.
“Summon the officials to court!” the eunuch announced loudly.
Outside Bright Radiance Hall, ministers filed in.
As an official from a distant region, Li Changsheng stood at the rear.
“Long live the Emperor! Long live! Long live forever!”
“Rise, my ministers,” Long Cang’s aged voice replied.
Li Changsheng lifted his head and saw the Emperor seated upon the Dragon Throne.
Unlike before, many unfamiliar Princes now stood at the front of the hall. Most were over 18 years old. All Princes with Spiritual Root Aptitude had gathered.
“Today’s court session concerns only the election of the next Emperor. Do any of you have proposals?” Long Cang’s gaze swept the hall, filled with authority.
“Your Majesty, I have a memorial,” an elderly minister stepped forward.
“Your Majesty is in robust health, your authority shakes the world. May you live ten thousand years. This old minister humbly requests that Your Majesty withdraw the abdication order and continue to reign over us.”
“We agree.”
The ministers quickly voiced their support.
In their eyes, abdication was unnecessary. Long Cang was an Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner in his prime. He could reign for thousands, even tens of thousands of years. What was the need for change?
Long Cang sighed as he looked upon the assembled court.
“I am tired. I have ruled long enough.”
“I believe it is time for my Princes to experience the throne. Perhaps among them there is one who will lead the Great Shang Empire to new heights.”
“My decision is final. There will be no further objections. The term shall be ten years. Do not oppose this again.”
The hall fell into uneasy silence. Perhaps the Emperor truly wished to step back. Perhaps he desired to give his descendants a chance.
The ministers exchanged glances.
To choose the next Emperor themselves meant offending many. If they supported one Prince who ultimately failed to ascend, would there not be reckoning afterward?
Li Changsheng saw this scene and knew his opportunity to perform had arrived.
“This humble minister has a memorial.”
Li Changsheng stepped forward.
Long Cang looked at him. In his memory, he remembered this man. His name was Li Wu, the top scholar of the imperial examination more than seventy years ago.
More than seventy years had passed. There had been over seventy new Zhuangyuan since then.
Yet Long Cang remembered them all. As a cultivator, such memory was effortless.
“Minister Li, speak.”
“This humble minister believes that the ministers fear casting the wrong vote for the Princes. Since this is an election, anonymity must be implemented.”
“We should place a voting box here in the Main Hall, seal it with a strict formation array, and have each minister anonymously place their ballot inside. Designated officials will record participation to prevent duplicate or missing votes. After ten years, the box will be opened and the results publicly announced.”
“All officials across the Empire may come within these ten years to cast their precious vote.”
“As for the Princes, they may use this time to travel throughout the Great Shang Empire, seek support, and compete by their own abilities.”
“This would allow them to tour the Empire’s landscapes, give officials a deeper understanding of each Prince, and temper their abilities. One move, three gains.”
“Excellent. Truly excellent.”
The ministers praised the proposal enthusiastically.
The idea was brilliant. It resolved all their concerns and allowed them to better evaluate the Princes.
Upon the Dragon Throne, Emperor Long Cang revealed a faint smile.
The suggestion was indeed sound. Anonymous voting would prevent officials from being restrained by fear.
As discussions resumed, Long Cang listened while glancing at a booklet on the desk before him.
The name written on it was Li Wu.
It detailed Li Wu’s seventy-plus years of service and accomplishments.
Beside it lay a thin sheet of paper, delivered moments ago. It recorded Li Wu’s current residence in the Imperial Capital and listed the items within—assets, clothing, possessions—with meticulous precision.
Not only Li Changsheng’s information was present. Nearly every official’s details were neatly laid before Long Cang.
The prophecy from the Heavenly Profound Observatory still lingered in his mind.
He did not fear the Empire’s destruction for his own sake. But the Great Shang Empire had been built by his own hands. Its wealth belonged to his descendants.
How could he bear to abandon it?
There were still one thousand years remaining. Within that time, he would uncover the cause of the Empire’s destruction and eliminate it in advance.
As an Emperor-level Spiritual Practitioner, he did not believe in fate.
He was the heavens of the Great Shang. He was its destiny.
Defying the heavens and rewriting fate was what cultivators had always done.
After court adjourned, Li Changsheng returned to his residence, a mansion bestowed upon him by the Emperor years ago.
Since being reassigned to Bingze City, the estate had remained unoccupied.
Several servants stayed behind to guard it. All main rooms were locked, and the servants lived only in the ordinary quarters.
“Hm?”
When Li Changsheng stepped into the courtyard, his expression shifted.
“Did anyone come to clean the courtyard today?” he asked, his gaze settling on fallen leaves scattered across the ground.
“My Lord, no servants came to clean today,” a maid replied respectfully.
Li Changsheng’s heart tightened.
If no one had cleaned, who had touched the lock on his room?
Before departing, he had personally locked it, leaving the latch tilted to the left.
Now it was no longer positioned that way. Someone had opened it.
He unlocked the door and entered. Nothing appeared missing.
The formation arrays and talismans he had set remained intact.
Yet he was certain—someone had been here.
“An imperial edict arrives!”
A eunuch’s voice rang from outside.
Li Changsheng stepped out to see several eunuchs entering with a scroll.
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Li Wu has rendered outstanding service and fulfilled his duties with diligence. He is hereby recalled to the Imperial Capital and promoted to Left Censor-in-Chief. So decreed.”
Li Changsheng bowed deeply, his face filled with astonishment.
As he accepted the imperial edict, shock still lingered in his heart.
He had not expected that a single visit to the Imperial Capital would result in immediate promotion. It seemed he had seized the opportunity well.
More than fifty years ago, he had served as a Grand Secretary in the Imperial Capital. Later he was reassigned to Bingze City as city lord. Now, returning to the Imperial Capital as Left Censor-in-Chief, his rise was extraordinary.
The Left Censor-in-Chief was responsible for supervising officials and impeaching corruption. It was a prestigious yet dangerous position, certain to offend many.
After seventy years, Li Changsheng had finally risen.
The position carried considerable benefits.
After promotion, his monthly salary increased to 700 spirit stones.
In the Great Shang Empire, officials were paid in spirit stones.
Only cultivators serving as officials received them.
A county magistrate typically earned between 50 and 100 spirit stones per month depending on location.
Each promotion increased salary by roughly 100 spirit stones.
One spirit stone equaled 10 gold coins.
Spirit stones were valuable within the Empire but rarely circulated among commoners. Only wealthy aristocratic families used them, sometimes crafting spirit jade ornaments for warding off evil.
Many cultivators did not even have enough spirit stones for their own cultivation, let alone for luxury.
Inside the room, Li Changsheng flipped his hand and retrieved a thumb-sized spirit stone from his storage pouch.
It was fiery red, containing flame essence. It felt warm to the touch.
This was a Fire Spirit Stone.
Its uses were vast.
Drop it into bathwater, and it would automatically heat the water to boiling without firewood.
Place several in a room during winter, and the temperature would steadily rise, functioning like modern climate control.
No wonder the Great Shang Empire monopolized all spiritual veins and strictly controlled spirit stone production.
Spirit stones were not only tools for cultivation. Their daily utility was extraordinary.
A Water Spirit Stone placed in a water vat would gradually gather fresh water.
If one was thirsty, placing a Water Spirit Stone in a bowl would condense droplets until a full bowl formed.
A Wood Spirit Stone laid upon withered grass would restore new growth within days.
Placed beneath a sapling, it would accelerate growth severalfold.
Metal, wood, water, fire, earth—each spirit stone type held immense power.
After becoming an official, Li Changsheng realized how comfortable cultivators’ lives were. A single spirit stone could solve countless mundane problems.
One Fire Spirit Stone could provide heat.
One Water Spirit Stone could provide drinking water.
One Wood Spirit Stone could stimulate crops.
One Metal Spirit Stone could condense a lump of metal at one’s doorstep.
One Earth Spirit Stone could soften and fertilize soil.
Yet such useful items were monopolized by the Great Shang Empire. Commoners had neither access nor means to afford them.
Ninety-nine percent of ordinary people would never use a spirit stone in their lifetime.
Over seventy years of service, Li Changsheng had accumulated over 300,000 spirit stones.
He had spent tens of thousands to purchase a basic storage pouch with a capacity of 16 cubic meters.
Storage pouches existed only within the cultivation world. Only official cultivators could afford them.
Some county magistrates labored decades without earning enough for one.
Li Changsheng could afford it because he did not require spirit stones for cultivation.
Most cultivators used spirit stones to absorb spiritual energy.
While spirit stones rarely circulated as currency, their daily applications were practical.
Though several hundred spirit stones per month seemed generous, genuine cultivation consumed them rapidly.
Li Changsheng had instead used them for daily convenience.
Each month, the court issued spirit stones of mixed attributes.
Though officially equal in value, cultivators favored water and fire attributes.
Ironically, those were the least frequently distributed. Most allocations consisted of metal, earth, and wood types.
Li Changsheng placed the Fire Spirit Stone into a jade bowl on the table. Soon the room warmed, and the winter chill vanished.
He sat cross-legged as his lifespan burned steadily within him.
For years, he had sustained the divine ability Longevity Spirit Sea through continuous lifespan combustion, maintaining the illusion of being a cultivator.
In truth, he possessed no Spiritual Root. He was merely an ordinary mortal.
Without immortality, he could never have afforded such extravagance.
Others cultivated spiritual energy. He cultivated lifespan.
By burning his lifespan, he maintained the Longevity Spirit Sea and converted it into soul power for nearly eighty years.
Now he could sustain the combustion for long periods without headaches.
By gradually pushing his endurance threshold, his yearly lifespan burn limit increased.
It mirrored how cultivators refined spiritual energy to raise their cultivation level.
The side-effect threshold of lifespan burning also strengthened.
On the surface, his cultivation level had reached high-level Spiritual Practitioner status.
If he wished, advancing to King-level Spiritual Practitioner status would require only greater lifespan expenditure.
But maintaining high-level Spiritual Practitioner strength without dizziness or nausea was his optimal state.
Going further risked both physical strain and unwanted attention.
“My Lord, the Thirteenth Princess has arrived.”
A servant’s voice sounded from outside.
Li Changsheng frowned.
The Thirteenth Princess?
Since when had he known the Thirteenth Princess?
…