Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Woman Who Saved the World

The Li Dynasty was born out of the chaotic and lawless era of the tribes, forged single-handedly by the great and ruthless hero king, Chi.

By now, the Iron Throne—emblem of supreme power and imperial majesty—had long since been passed down through countless generations of emperors.

Yet, after so many years of peace and complacency, the grip of the Li Dynasty had begun to loosen. The current emperor cared for nothing but his own indulgence, seeking only pleasure and entertainment.

Still, a dying camel is bigger than a horse; and this particular camel was far from dead.

When crisis struck, this colossal machinery of power once again revealed the terrifying might expected of the Black Earth Continent’s foremost empire.

At the first sign of danger, the military institutions of the Li Dynasty took the lead. They promised rewards as rich as mountains of gold and silver, and in the shortest time, they assembled an army composed entirely of cultivators—over ten thousand strong.

The power of cultivators, once they have trained to a certain level, far surpassed the realm of ordinary warriors.

Without doubt, in the absence of intervention from the Eight Great Sacred Grounds, this army was the greatest force the Li Dynasty could muster—more than enough to sweep across most of the continent.

Tens of thousands of cultivators burst forth from the Heavenly Gate Pass like a swarm of wasps, their momentum vast and overwhelming.

The two armies faced each other across the Li River, the air between them frozen solid, oppressive and stifling. Both shores were packed with a dense, endless sea of troops, exuding an aura that could suffocate the soul.

At the command, the ranks of cultivators surged forward, every face cold and grim, exuding a killing intent sharp enough to spark flames, their shouts muffled and pain-laced, as if blades were driven into flesh—a cacophony that inspired true dread.

On the city wall above, the current ruler of the Li Dynasty, Ming, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, overlooking the entire battlefield.

He was bloated and obese, his body soft and unwieldy, with small, shifty eyes like yellow beans. Even a few steps left him gasping and drenched in sweat, giving the impression of utter frailty and weakness.

Beside Ming stood a young woman, graceful and slender, her figure elegant as jade. Her skin was flawless and delicate, her bearing dignified—truly a beauty to topple kingdoms.

On the other side stood a man of about thirty, of average height, bare-chested, his formidable muscles standing out on shoulders and arms, with rough hemp rope marks etched red across his skin—adding to his air of savagery and strength.

"Lady Shi Fei, there is no need for you to remain here. With myself and Man Yi standing guard, why risk sullying your eyes with the bloody, filthy spectacle below?"

Ming withdrew his gaze from the battlefield, dragging his corpulent body as he stole a glance at the peerless woman beside him, his tone openly laced with fawning admiration.

"Those below the city wall are all warriors sacrificing themselves for the nation. Whether in courage or virtue, they are exemplary. What is there to sully one’s eyes?" the beautiful woman replied coldly, casting a disappointed, displeased look at the Li Dynasty’s ruler.

She was a disciple of the Compassionate Heart Monastery—a renowned hidden sect on the Nine Provinces Continent, though not counted among the Eight Great Sacred Grounds. Together with the Pure Mind Sect, they had long taken it as their duty to safeguard Central Plains civilization.

Yet unlike the Pure Mind Sect, the Compassionate Heart Monastery observed an unspoken rule since its founding: in times of chaos, they would send their most outstanding female disciple to assist the chosen Son of Heaven in restoring peace.

The current, unseemly ruler of the Li Dynasty was the one chosen by the monastery’s venerable founder as the true Son of Heaven.

She had assumed he was merely unfortunate in appearance, but she had not expected him to be so contemptuous of his own warriors—a petty man lacking even the basic respect for those who risked their lives for the nation.

How could such a person, who could not even honor his bravest subjects, truly be the one foretold in the oracles?

Truth be told, she found it hard to believe.

Yet the founder’s edict was unbreakable. She had no choice but to obey, to believe, and even to devote herself wholeheartedly to the mission.

Even if it meant sacrificing her own maidenhood.

"Lady Shi Fei speaks truly. It was my error," Ming said, narrowing his eyes until they were little more than black lines.

"Attend me—bring Lady Shi Fei a seat," he commanded with a wave of his hand.

A moment later, several eunuchs struggled up the wall with an ornate wooden chair.

"Lady Shi Fei, this Mountain and Rivers Chair was my own inspiration. I commanded hundreds of craftsmen to labor day and night for years until it was finished. In comfort and durability, it is unmatched—the very best of the best," Ming boasted, wiping sweat from his brow.

He was a man of indulgence and excess, and had designed this chair himself, considering it his most satisfying creation—suitable for one, or for two to sit together.

"Your Majesty, as the legitimate emperor of the Li Dynasty and the bearer of the Son of Heaven’s destiny, you must realize that the world stands on the brink of a century’s upheaval. If you continue to live in such luxury, I fear... your rule will become unstable," the beautiful woman said, frowning.

"Lady Shi Fei, my offer of a seat was out of respect for the Compassionate Heart Monastery. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness—after all, your monastery is not one of the Eight Sacred Grounds!"

Ming’s tone abruptly chilled, his voice now cold and hard.

His nature was always so irritable. The only reason he had spoken kindly was to leave a good impression on the woman.

But never had he imagined that she would show him no deference, speaking openly of instability and unrest, making him lose face before his confidants.

He was the sovereign of this vast dynasty—how could he not know the state of his own rule?

Did she not see how at court, his ministers praised his wise governance, how peace reigned throughout the land, the people clothed and well-fed, living in joy and harmony?

Such a woman—haughty and full of wild talk. The fact that he had not ordered her buried alive on the spot was proof enough of his mercy.

"Emperor Ming, the Compassionate Heart Monastery exists to save the people. We will not suffer such insults," the beautiful woman retorted without hesitation.

"Very well; if you insist on going your own way, I will concern myself no further with your affairs," she said, and turned to descend the nearby stairs.

The Compassionate Heart Monastery specialized in divination and the study of destiny. Its disciples were no more powerful than ordinary martial artists and could not leap down from the towering city walls in a single bound.

"Leave? After slandering me so, you think you can walk away so easily?" Ming said coldly.

At his signal, his bodyguards moved to block the woman’s path.

These guards were all at least second-tier experts, far beyond the woman’s ability to resist.

"Emperor Ming, what are you doing? The Compassionate Heart Monastery is not to be trifled with!" she exclaimed, her almond eyes flashing with anger and disbelief.

"You know perfectly well what I intend. But for now, I merely want you to witness how I deal with those ugly monsters beneath the city walls," Ming replied with a cold laugh, his bloated face quivering with the motion.