Chapter 113: This Is a Story About a Father’s Love

Not just Imperial Inspector Liu, but even Ren Ye felt his head buzzing when he saw the ghost wearing a dragon robe.

The last time he and Second Fool explored the secret chamber, the sudden extinguishing of the lights had plunged the room into total darkness, preventing them from seeing the ghost’s face.

But now, up close, the ghost was not only clad in a dragon robe but also wore a dragon crown. His figure was thin, and his soul appeared dim and weak.

This attire was practically screaming at the three of them: This old specter might not be an ordinary spirit… It seemed like he was an Emperor…

“I am Great Qian’s Emperor Wu! Unfilial descendant… why do you not kneel before me?!” The ghost’s solemn voice boomed, carrying an oppressive aura that made it instinctively difficult to meet his gaze.

Their legs weakened involuntarily, as if compelled to kneel, their hearts filled with terror.

He called himself Emperor Wu… which meant… he was Ren Ye’s imperial grandfather?!

“Buzz!”

At that moment, the Human Emperor Sword erupted with blinding light, and the spirit residing within it suddenly reacted:

“For all the vastness of Shenzhou, you spent your life warring only to claim a mere corner of it. You dared not march south, nor did you dare to challenge the northern barbarians—how dare you even call yourself Martial Emperor?¹ What a joke!”

The ghost of Emperor Wu instantly lost all its authority and grandeur the moment it saw the Human Emperor Sword glow.

“Whoosh!”

Like it had seen a ghost itself, the specter frantically retreated into the tunnel.

“Unfilial descendant, return my life!”

“I am Emperor Wu of Great Qian, blessed by the fortunes of Shenzhou—I shall exist for ten thousand years!”

His voice echoed through the tunnel, repeating the same two sentences over and over.

Ren Ye frowned, thinking to himself: This Emperor Wu’s ghost… doesn’t seem very bright. It’s probably just a remnant soul…

“Whoosh!”

Before he could dwell on it, the Human Emperor Sword suddenly flew forward, radiating dazzling light, and shot straight into the tunnel.

“My sword bro is getting serious. Let’s go check it out!” Ren Ye called out and immediately chased after it.

Imperial Inspector Liu, and Tang Feng exchanged nervous glances, but despite their apprehension, they followed.

The three of them sprinted through the narrow tunnel for a full thirty seconds before reaching the innermost secret chamber.

In the center of the chamber lay a massive stone coffin, its surface and the surrounding floor covered in intricate formation patterns, exuding an ancient and mysterious aura.

Emperor Wu’s ghost, driven into a corner by the Human Emperor Sword, looked terrified and deranged.

“I am the founding emperor of Great Qian! I shall exist eternally, my life bound to the heavens and the earth!”

Inside the chamber, the Human Emperor Sword hovered above the stone coffin, its blade shimmering with radiant light.

The spirit within the sword briefly sensed the surroundings and scoffed, “Hah, the fortune of a mere corner of the land is this pitifully thin? Shenzhou has truly fallen into decline…”

“Unfilial descendant! You have forgotten your ancestors and betrayed your clan! You shall suffer divine punishment!” Emperor Wu’s ghost, oppressed by the sword’s brilliance, cowered on the ground, its spectral form growing fainter.

“Annoying.”

The sword spirit seemed to utterly disdain Emperor Wu and had no interest in wasting words.

“Whoosh!”

A streak of radiant energy shot out from the sword, piercing straight through the ghost’s soul.

“Aaaah!”

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the chamber as the sword light shredded the ghost’s lingering spirit.

Within moments, Emperor Wu’s remnant soul completely dissipated into nothingness.

Silence fell over the chamber. The spirit within the sword said nothing more, only sending a burst of energy to shatter the stone coffin before instantly retreating into Ren Ye’s forehead.

Imperial Inspector Liu, was utterly dumbfounded. “Why am I not Prince Huai? Why don’t I have such an awesome sword… or a grandfather who wears dragon robes?! Why?!”

The formations on the coffin and the floor, once brimming with mystical energy, dimmed and lost their luster. Dust and stone fragments scattered to the ground.

“Boom!”

A beam of white light shot skyward, shattering the stone lid of the coffin.

Dense, ethereal energy surged forth, flowing straight into Ren Ye.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with this sight—back in the Mirror Realm, his body had been reforged by the same kind of energy.

This was fortune.

As it entered his body, an indescribable sensation of comfort flooded his being.

Ren Ye unconsciously sat down, his eyes closing as he absorbed the fortune that was rightfully his.

Seeing this, Tang Feng and Imperial Inspector Liu, sensibly retreated and sat in the tunnel, standing guard for him.

Before long, the mist-like white light completely enveloped Ren Ye’s body.

Yet his consciousness remained intact. Amidst the flowing fortune, he saw a sheet of paper drifting out from within the stone coffin.

Raising a hand, he caught it—absorbing the fortune while simultaneously lowering his gaze to examine the letter.

The letter was yellowed with age, and its contents gradually emerged.

It was a final letter left by the old Prince Huai for his son—written in plain words yet filled with deep emotion.

“I am Zhu Kai, Prince Huai of Great Qian.

My dear son, by the time you read this letter, you must have already seen ‘his’ soul and likely endured many hardships.

Without the spirit of the Nation-Stabilizing Sword, you would not have arrived here.

I assume you have already passed through Qingliang Mountain and overcome the trials set by Princess Anping.

To outsiders, you may seem like nothing more than an unlearned and frivolous wastrel, but in a father’s heart, his child will always be the best…

If only he had understood this.

In my memories, he was always wise, decisive, and full of authority.

But in his later years, he changed—he became too obsessed with the world, too selfish, filled with suspicion… to the point that he could no longer recognize his own flesh and blood.

In the ninth year of Emperor Wu’s reign, under his orders, I dispatched eleven secret agents to investigate the princess’s tomb, seeking to retrieve the Human Emperor Seal, to prolong the fate of Great Qian, to extend his own life…

The fate of a nation does not lie in the hands of the ruler, nor the civil and military officials, nor the common people—could it truly be bound to a dust-covered imperial seal?

Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the laws of heaven and nature—who can defy fate and alter destiny?

The so-called Human Emperor?

But he failed to understand—the Human Emperor was favored by the heavens not because of two lifeless relics, but because of the will of the people…

To me, his obsession was utterly absurd.

But a command from the emperor is not something I could disobey.

Since time immemorial, emperors have grown feeble and confused in their twilight years. If he desired the seal, then let him have his wish.

Yet, I did not expect that all eleven men who entered the tomb would perish at the third trial.

I truthfully reported to him that the princess’s tomb was too perilous, impossible for ordinary men to pass.

He refused to accept this. He then ordered the Tianjian Division to issue an enormous bounty, recruiting the most powerful cultivators in the world to forcibly open the tomb.

In the end, 216 cultivators all perished on the eighth level of the princess’s tomb.

The Tianjian Division observed from outside and discovered that on the ninth level of the tomb, there was a great cultivator awaiting the arrival of the Heavenly Pardoned One—only this person could open the tomb.

The massacre of 216 cultivators spread like wildfire.

Scholars and students across the land condemned him and the court for this atrocity. Many loyal ministers remonstrated him with their lives, only to be executed…

From that day forward, he became obsessed with finding the Heavenly Pardoned One, as if possessed.

Years passed, but no such person was found. Meanwhile, he grew old and frail, his body ravaged by illness, nearing death.

During that time, he resided in the summer villa in Crane Forest, frequently summoning me for idle conversations.

He began to show interest in your studies and well-being, even sending those mystics from the Tianjian Division to Prince Huai’s Manor to pray for you… and gifting you the Imperial Brush.

“With a stroke of the brush, I craft a legacy for millennia; on the stage of history, I paint mountains and rivers.”

The weight of his words was immense—too direct, too explicit…

I am but a martial artist, having spent half my life in war.

But I am not foolish. I knew well that his gift was nothing more than an attempt to sway me—to use me as a counterbalance against the growing power of the Crown Prince’s faction.

Yet, how could a dying tiger hope to threaten a tiger in its prime?

It was because of this that my relationship with my imperial brother grew strained.

Even so, at that time, he and I still had a bond as father and son.

If he ordered me to explore the tomb, I would do my utmost. If he commanded me to lead troops into battle, I would never return in defeat.

How many lifetimes must intertwine for us to be father and son?

I do not know, nor can I calculate it…

But when I saw him grow old and frail, even though I knew he intended to use me against the Crown Prince’s faction, I never once refused him.

However, I never expected that his concern for you before his death had an ulterior motive.

He did not realize that while I am a martial artist, I have commanded armies for years and have many ears and eyes in the court.

A secret agent from the Tianjian Division informed me that his long stay in the Crane Forest summer villa was not simply to convalesce—he was secretly preparing a Soul Transfer Ritual to seize the body of the Heavenly Pardoned One.

He planned to wait until his soul awakened, then personally enter Princess Anping’s tomb, retrieve the Human Emperor Seal, and claim eternal life.”

At first, I didn’t believe it. I secretly sent people to investigate, only to finally discover the strange formations set up by the demonic priests of the Tianjian Division beneath the summer retreat.

And the one they intended to steal a body from… was you.

My son, Zhu Zigui!

The Tianjian Division’s sixty-six demonic priests sacrificed their lifespans to perform divination, ultimately calculating that at some point in the future, the Heavenly Pardon Energy within you would awaken.

But he was running out of time. He couldn’t wait for the day your Heavenly Pardon Energy would awaken, so he planned to use the Soul Transference Ritual to seize your body first and take it for himself.

If he wanted my life,
I would give it to him!

But if he wanted my son’s life,
how could I possibly give it to him?!

I have spent half my life on the battlefield, never once coveting anything that was not rightfully mine.

Yet why does fate treat me this way?

You are his grandson—so why would he do this to you?!

Upon learning this truth, I knew that the bond of father and son between us had long since been buried within the unseen struggles of imperial power, lost amidst the vast and hazy empire…

After secretly preparing for over half a month, I struck.

Just as the demonic priests of the Tianjian Division were gathering the necessary materials for the ritual, I led my troops and attacked without warning.

In the palace hall,
I strangled him with my own hands.

His frail, skeletal body gradually lost all signs of life in my grip.

He begged desperately for mercy,
but I simply told him:

“Since you granted me life, I shall soon follow you in death.”

A son killing his father—this was an unforgivable crime of treason.

From that day onward, I was marked by misfortune. My body grew weaker with each passing day, plagued by illness. My death was inevitable.

But I have no regrets.

With my mortal eyes, I cannot see what lies within the Heavenly Palace nor comprehend the secrets of eternal life…

Yet within my heart, I still care—for those I love, for the things that matter.

He is dead, buried in the Martial Emperor’s Tomb.

But in secret, I used the Nation-Stabilizing Sword to extract the imperial fortune lingering within him.

Half of it was taken by the sword spirit into the Princess’s Tomb.
The other half was sealed along with his remnant soul in a hidden chamber.

I did not leave behind this imperial fortune for you to seize the throne,
but to protect yourself.

If one day, your Heavenly Pardon Energy truly awakens…

You may enter the tomb to retrieve the sword spirit,
or open the hidden chamber to claim the remaining imperial fortune.

Gui’er, if all you wish is to live as a mere spectator in this world,
then take the chamber’s gold and silver treasures,
use the imperial fortune to shatter the Princess’s Tomb,
obtain its divine inheritance,
and protect yourself.

Then, you may leave this place forever—
and roam the world freely.

If fate allows,
return this imperial fortune to the land of Shenzhou,
entrust it to a wise ruler.

Gui’er, if you have great ambition,
if you wish to follow in the footsteps of the Human Emperor,
to rise to the heavens
and usher in an era of eternal peace for all the people of Shenzhou…²

Then this imperial fortune shall be the gallant steed
that carries Zhu Zigui upon his journey to claim the world.

As for me,
I am already in my twilight years.
One day, I shall be buried beneath the yellow earth,
scattered into the vast land.

The road ahead…
you must walk on your own.

I must depart now.
War breaks out frequently in the southern borderlands,
and Emperor Jing has decreed
that I lead the army to defend against the invaders.

This journey, I shall not return.

I will die on the road back—
after ensuring our borders are secure.

This is the best end for a general.

Prince Huai — Zhu Kai’s final words.”

Inside the hidden chamber, the white radiance faded completely, and the imperial fortune had now entered Ren Ye’s body.

He lifted his head, gazing toward the tunnel,
his emotions a tangled mess.

From a personal perspective, his own parents had divorced early on.
For years, his father had raised him single-handedly.

So, upon reading this letter, an indescribable sourness welled up within him—a deep sorrow, a profound ache.

“Sigh… this is a story about a father’s love.”

At this moment, he was still unaware—that someone, under the guise of a historical tale, was slowly revealing their own love.

“It’s done?”

Imperial Inspector Liu ran over and asked.

“Yeah,” Ren Ye nodded.

As they spoke, the cold voice of the Star Gate echoed in their ears.

[Congratulations, Prince Huai. You have successfully acquired the imperial fortune within the hidden chamber, now possessing a complete Heavenly Pardoned One destiny, as well as the power to open the final level of the Princess’s Tomb.]

[However, your every move is being monitored by Emperor Jing. Once you open the Princess’s Tomb, the imperial court will undoubtedly take action. You must prepare in advance.]

[Before leaving the Star Gate, do everything in your power to seize control over Qingliang Prefecture. And Prince Huai—your rebellion must begin immediately.]

[Prince Huai faction-wide announcement: Use your intelligence and abilities to help Prince Huai seize power as quickly as possible.]

For a moment, they were all stunned.

Then, Imperial Inspector Liu was the first to react—

“Holy shit, this is about to turn into all-out war—people are gonna die by the thousands!”