Emperor Jing issued an imperial edict to quell the rebellion, and feudal lords across the realm stirred at the summons. By the twelfth month of the first year of Emperor Jing's reign, Pacification Commissioners, Military Commissioners, Pacification Offices, Pacification and Comfort Offices, imperial clan princes from every circuit, and military commissioners within the Nine Kingdoms submitted memorials in droves. Petitions flew like snowflakes toward the imperial capital of Great Tang. For a time, it almost seemed to recapture the grandeur of Great Tang's founding days!
In the imperial study within the imperial palace, the King of Jin sat behind the desk, reviewing the mountainous piles of memorials. Beside him sat the emperor, whose face still bore a youthful innocence. The memorials approved by the King of Jin were passed to him so he could examine their contents and comments closely, free to ask questions whenever he encountered something he did not understand.
Yet the young emperor read halfheartedly, his gaze constantly drifting toward the two maidservants standing at the study door.
After finishing all the memorials, the King of Jin wrote down a number on a sheet of paper and compared it to previous figures. Anger instantly darkened his face, and he slammed his hand down heavily onto the desk. "Utter bastards!"
The young emperor jumped in fright, not knowing what had provoked him.
The King of Jin glanced at him, suppressed his fury, and explained with forced patience, "Up until now, over a hundred memorials have arrived pledging to suppress the rebels by imperial order, and more than fifty claim to have won victories and demand rewards! Hmph! All told, these hundred-plus loyalist armies amount to barely over ninety thousand men, scattered across the four corners of the world! That averages out to fewer than a thousand men per army. Are these punitive forces or bandits?
"What is even more laughable is that some demand rewards before the battle has even been fought. Look at this fellow—he is up in Northern Qi, yet claims to have won a battle far off in the southwestern State of Ji!
"And this one, a petty military commissioner on the frontier, actually claims he'll deploy two hundred thousand troops against the rebels! Hah, that's more than double all the other routes combined. He is at least three hundred thousand li from the rebels—how are hundreds of thousands of troops going to get there? His vanguard is a single flying boat that can carry a thousand men. I'd wager that's all he has."
The young emperor caught the two memorials tossed to him and opened them. The one requesting rewards was nothing unusual, just a matter of having thick skin. Ever since the decline of the Tang dynasty, a contingent of frontier ministers had routinely asked for rewards when they had nothing better to do; after all, they lost nothing by trying.
As for the other memorial, it was signed by Wei Yuan, Military Commissioner of Qingyang in Qingzhou, Great Tang. This was the fellow who claimed he would deploy three hundred thousand troops to quell the rebellion.
When the young emperor saw the words "Military Commissioner of Qingyang," an indescribable feeling welled up within him. But then confusion followed: Did Great Tang have a Qingzhou? The young emperor was only sixteen and had never expected the throne would fall to him, so his basic education was far from solid.
After wracking his brains, he still could not recall Great Tang having a Qingzhou, and thus concluded that this man had seized some remote parcel of land, styled himself the Military Commissioner of Qingzhou, and bribed some court official to buy a blank commission.
Such things were common enough; Great Tang had at least seventy or eighty military commissioners by now.
After venting his anger, the King of Jin fell into deep thought for a long while before finally making up his mind. "A severe illness requires strong medicine! Issue an edict: anyone capable of quelling the rebels shall be granted the authority to establish their own administration locally. Anyone who takes control of a full commandery shall be conferred the title of Pacification Commissioner!"
The young emperor was startled and said hastily, "Isn't that carving flesh from the State of Ji?"
With his plan settled, the King of Jin was composed and calm. "The flesh of the State of Ji rotted long ago. Even if we carve it out, the King of Ji is powerless to stop us. After this war, at least two or three commanderies of Ji will return to Great Tang's fold, and we will gain an enclave bordering the foreign tribes. Once that is done, you will also have the opportunity to campaign against the foreign races."
The young emperor showed little interest. He only wanted to fool around with palace maids inside the palace, not fight foreign races on the frontier. Leading an army on campaign was grueling work, naturally left to the ministers below.
***
At the border between Yongzhou and Jiaozhou, a boundless stretch of tents spread across the mountains and plains as far as the eye could see.
Here, the various rebel armies gathered for an alliance assembly, preparing to proclaim a new alliance leader.
Inside the central command tent sat a dozen rebel chiefs with varied expressions and bearing, mostly featuring fierce visages, round eyes, and burly, dark, stout frames. Yet in the central seat of honor sat a scholar.
On the table before the scholar lay over a hundred memorials. Pointing to them, he said, "Whatever memorials lie in the emperor's imperial study, identical copies lie right here before us. These are all from the lords answering the royalist call to subjugate us."
A burly man asked, "So many lords? Added together, that must be several million men, right?"
Another sneered, "The army of the State of Ji was smashed to pieces by us—what is there to fear?! These lords may be many, but they can't fly across."
The scholar smiled faintly. "General Liu Heihu is quite right. These lords seek nothing more than rewards and titles, so altogether their armies amount to less than a hundred thousand. And of those hundred thousand, more than half won't reach our front in this lifetime."
The burly men in the tent instantly perked up and chimed in, "Then what are we afraid of? Let's take them on!"
Yet someone asked, "The State of Ji also has immortals. If we make too big a ruckus, what if an immortal takes action?"
The scholar had been waiting for precisely this question. He smiled and said, "Immortals are bound by various restrictions; they cannot strike mortals without cause. Even if an immortal casts all shame aside, I possess means to counter them. None of you need worry—simply crush the Ji army. Once we hold several commanderies, we can partition the land and govern, establishing a firm footing before smashing Great Tang's realm piece by piece!"
Immediately someone declared, "Big Brother even has ways to deal with immortals! Besides, Big Brother is resourceful and wise, while the rest of us are unrefined roughnecks. Naturally, this alliance leader can be none other than Big Brother!"
The crowd voiced their agreement one after another. Those harboring different thoughts saw the overwhelming momentum of the others and had no choice but to swallow their objections.
In the twelfth month of the first year of Hongjing, the rebel forces assembled and jointly elected Lu Jiande as the leader of the righteous army, claiming a host a million strong. The day after the assembly, the righteous army decisively defeated the army of Ji at the Si River, beheading a hundred thousand, sending shockwaves throughout the world.
All the soldiers of the righteous army wore yellow turbans, with a chrysanthemum painted across the chest of their robes.
***
A small flying boat hovered above the deserted, wild mountains. Wei Yuan looked down at the valley below and asked, "The secret realm is right here?"
Hule Gao'en replied, "Right here."
Wei Yuan immediately ordered the flying boat to descend. This place was less than twenty thousand li from Qingming's core; once Qingming matured, it would fall within its range of control. Over a hundred people disembarked from the flying boat—aside from cultivators of the Palace of Grand Beginning, there were several dozen elite soldiers carefully chosen from the army.
Led by Hule Gao'en, the group entered the secret realm. It was not particularly large and bore heavy traces of age, with many artifacts having rotted away. In the center of the realm stood an altar, though it had long since been destroyed, its purpose unknown.
Hule Gao'en led them to a secluded corner and shifted aside the boulders, revealing a deep, dim passage. At the end of the passage sat a teleportation array leading beyond the secret realm.
After inspecting it, Ji Liuli found that the formation was fairly well preserved and still usable, though powering it would require a vast amount of spirit stones.
Reactivating the teleportation array proved not difficult and was soon completed without a hitch. Wei Yuan left half of the cultivators behind and took Hule Gao'en through the teleportation gate.
Beyond the teleportation gate was indeed an entirely different realm. Rolling hills stretched out as far as the eye could see, and vast expanses of exposed rock displayed unusual hues of reddish-brown and green. It was clearly the sign of an ore vein—and an open-air, massive deposit at that.
Hule Gao'en had not lied. Wei Yuan was instantly in high spirits. But before he could savor the joy, a cultivator rushed out from the teleportation gate and cried, "Domain Lord, disaster has struck Qingming! Over a dozen Dao Foundation disciples are dead, and nearly a hundred severely wounded!"
"What?" Shocked, Wei Yuan immediately turned back through the teleportation gate to inspect Qingming.
In the deep winter of the first year of Hongjing, a sudden, massive explosion rocked Qingming's Peixian Workshop, causing casualties beyond count.
Chapter 956