For the next two entire days, Wei Yuan had nothing to do, Prince Ying's forces had nothing to do, and the border army continued to scavenge for scraps.
There were not many scraps left.
All three sides turned a blind eye to the central treasury. Then two hundred bare-bottomed men wandered into the treasury grounds, startled to discover that two vaults were somehow still intact.
As for the fifty mounted scouts who had once been their companions, they had quietly perished at the hands of the Liao in the chaos of previous days, their weapons and armor stripped to clothe other men.
Inside the field camp's great hall, the King of Jin kept his eyes lowered, offering no word to conclude the Autumn Hunt.
So long as the king did not stir, no one else dared to move. Fortunately, everyone present was a cultivator, so they cast their eyes toward their noses and their noses toward their hearts, quietly attending to their daily cultivation exercises. After all, the Heaven-and-Earth Chessboard had displayed Wei Yuan's oversized face all day and night. Everyone had practically counted every hair on his eyebrows; there was really nothing left to look at.
Only Prince Fu was young. After sitting for merely a day, he could bear it no longer and began clamoring for food and water. Annoyed by the racket, the King of Jin had him escorted from the hall. Upon receiving the news, Wang Qian hurried over to take the boy back to his quarters, offering him water and nourishment.
When Consort Yuan heard of this, however, she rushed over. After asking what had happened, she did not utter a single word—raising her hand, she delivered a stinging slap across his face!
The blow landed with tremendous force, leaving an immediate handprint on Prince Fu's cheek. He broke into wailing tears on the spot, crying out, "How dare you strike me! I'm going to tell Father!"
Standing to the side, Wang Qian wanted to intervene, but he lacked the courage.
Consort Yuan ignored the sobbing boy and said to the maids beside her, "For Prince Fu to act so thoughtlessly, someone at his side must be instigating it. Men, seize all the personal supervising eunuchs and palace maids serving Prince Fu, and drown them in the pond."
Having given her orders, she turned and left, offering Wang Qian no opportunity to utter a single word.
Prince Fu stomped his feet and threw a tantrum, but the only ones remaining were Consort Yuan's maids. They paid him no mind at all, hauling away his supervising eunuchs and palace maids one by one.
With a heavy sigh, Wang Qian could only turn and walk away.
On the morning of the third day, the lingering sensation of being watched finally faded, and Wei Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. Maintaining a flawless posture for two days and two nights straight had left even him with an aching back and shoulders.
Just as Wei Yuan stretched his arms, he suddenly felt a warm, thick, viscous mass pour over his head. An indescribable odor of decay, ruin, and various rotten substances refermenting rushed into his nostrils, struck the roof of his mouth, pierced through his palate, surged into his brain, and erupted through the crown of his skull. It left Wei Yuan feeling as though he had swallowed a massive gulp of corpse fluid mixed with mustard.
His perception was razor-sharp, almost an innate divine ability, but at this moment it was an absolute disaster. An ordinary person might not have tasted anything at all, yet Wei Yuan could discern every subtle layer within that flavor, detecting its minute variations and grasping each nuance with total clarity.
It was like eating a mouthful of dung and instinctively telling its vintage, its origin, whether it had hints of greens or pork ribs, and whether the one who produced it suffered from any hidden ailments.
Wei Yuan could endure it no longer. He dropped to his knees, dry-heaving until he vomited up clear saliva and yellow bile.
That invisible, viscous substance continued to rain down without end. In desperation, Wei Yuan transformed his primordial spirit into the Sky-Devouring Treasure Toad. Tilting his head back, he took a tremendous gulp, swallowing the remaining sludge in one bite, and shook it violently several times to sever it from the vast mass high in the void.
"It's finally gone..." Wei Yuan's face was frightfully pale. He experienced true frailty, so weak from vomiting that he could barely stand.
Xu Yi rushed over to help him up, while the knights raised their weapons and went on high alert, utterly baffled as to where the enemy had come from.
Wei Yuan waved a weak hand and said breathlessly, "I'm fine. It's just my body... something went slightly awry. I'll be fine in a moment."
Within the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, the sky was no longer a profound darkness. Instead, it was draped in a rolling layer of murky crimson. Like a pool of slime, it coated the sky of the realm. Without looking closely, it almost resembled the evening glow of a setting sun—tragically beautiful and thoroughly despairing.
This murky crimson sky was the embodiment of Western Jin's state fortune. Looking upon the pervasive stench of decay and ruin, Wei Yuan could only sigh.
Western Jin's state fortune was an asset, a resource for attaining the Dao, even when nearing its final collapse. It made the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains more complete; with a sky, there was now a basis for forming wind and rain, bringing the entire Dao Foundation a massive step closer to a real world. Such a progression was typically something achieved only after reaching Scenery Command.
In other words, Wei Yuan now possessed at least a measure of the miraculous power of a Scenery Command True Monarch.
Yet it was also a shackle and a cage. The entirety of this fortune formed an inverted dome over the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, merging into a single whole at the ends of the earth and seeping into the realm in countless threads. At this moment, the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains was like a beast trapped in a spider's web; though it would not succumb, its movements were hindered. Until he completely transformed and refined this state fortune, he would be unable to achieve a mindscape world or attain Scenery Command.
Wei Yuan's mastery over karmic luck was already remarkably deep. After Western Jin's state fortune settled into the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, he observed the fluctuations of the outside realm's fortune and had an accurate gauge: this expanse of murky crimson actually accounted for a full tenth of all Western Jin's state fortune!
Karmic luck was an intangible thing, present everywhere and nowhere. Whether high in the void or within the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, it was part of Western Jin's state fortune, an element of the greater whole. However, this portion was now bound to Wei Yuan. If it fared well, Western Jin fared well, and vice versa.
Once it fell into the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, however, it differed from the general state fortune. If Wei Yuan could refine it to a higher state, the majority of the benefits would belong to him alone, with only a small portion trickling back to Western Jin. Even if Wei Yuan managed to restore it to the flourishing splendor of the founding Taizu's era, he would retain at least half the benefits—and the same held true in reverse.
Judging by this state fortune, however, Wei Yuan felt the dynasty was not far from ruin. No matter how perversely he acted, things could hardly get any worse.
Therefore, to Wei Yuan, this portion of state fortune was currently nothing but a burden, and it offered no help in neutralizing the Karma Great Curse. If the Shamans cast a Karma Great Curse right now, Western Jin would certainly suffer natural disasters and slaughter, but the resulting karmic backlash would give Wei Yuan a truly bitter pill to swallow, far worse than the curse itself.
By then, Wei Yuan would effectively be a partial sovereign of a fallen nation, guaranteed a record in the history books for future generations to revile.
*Still, since the state fortune has descended, has the Autumn Hunt ended?*
Inside the field camp's great hall, the King of Jin set down the oversized golden goblet in his hand and picked up a tiny golden spoon from the table, no larger than a fingernail. He gently scooped with it, lifting a trace of some mysterious substance into the bowl of the spoon, then walked to the front of the sand table and tipped the contents into it.
The aura of Lü Wenbai, the Military Commissioner of Yunxiang, suddenly surged violently. Overcome with shock and joy, he left his seat, knelt on the floor, and proclaimed repeatedly, "I thank Your Majesty for this sacred grace!"
Yet even as his aura climbed, a flash of pallor crossed his face; he, too, had likely tasted what it meant to receive state fortune. He simply lacked Wei Yuan's innate divine perception, so his senses were far less acute.
At this moment, Lü Wenbai was still somewhat dazed, unable to comprehend how he had ended up in second place when Prince Ying and the border army were still in play. He cast a discreet glance at the golden goblet, a faint trace of regret in his eyes. That goblet was truly massive—more than ten times the size of the tiny spoon.
Wei Yuan hurriedly racked his brains, recalling what knowledge he possessed regarding state fortunes.
The volume and vicissitudes of a nation's fortune depended on multiple factors; the royal house was not its sole pivot. A portion of the fortune was dispersed across the realm's territory, a portion rested upon the common people, and a portion was rooted in the court officials, prominent figures, and aristocratic clans—those known as the foundation of governance.
In terms of proportion, the Jin royal house held roughly thirty to forty percent, of which the King of Jin naturally possessed the lion's share. Now that Wei Yuan had claimed a full tenth of the total state fortune directly from the royal share, the shift in balance meant that while he could not match the King of Jin, he certainly far surpassed the Crown Prince.
Wei Yuan sank into deep thought. Judging his relationship with the King of Jin through the lens of state fortune, it seemed he really ought to take him as an adoptive father.
Yet thinking of Consort Yuan made the notion feel rather strange.
Chapter 323