Dragon Canon

Wei Yuan stepped out of his room and into the morning light. A crisp, austere autumn chill immediately swept over him.

Outside the posthouse, his personal guards were already waiting for him. They would be accompanying him to the Western Park for the autumn hunt. Wei Yuan looked up at the sky where a layer of dark clouds hung overhead. It was neither thick nor thin, but just enough to cast a gloomy shadow over one’s mood.

It’s already getting cold. I wonder if it will snow today....

Wei Yuan felt some emotions welling up within him. He turned his gaze away, then suddenly stopped in his tracks.

In the posthouse’s courtyard, an elderly servant was sweeping up fallen leaves. His movements were slow, yet he seemed to blend in seamlessly with Heaven and Earth. Stroke by stroke, he was sweeping the leaves to the edge.

At that moment, the entire courtyard seemed to transform into the vast expanse that was Heaven and Earth, and the fallen leaves turned into historical luminaries and Chosen Ones from the past. Though they had all once been bright and seemingly indomitable, once their time was up, they could do nothing but wither away helplessly and be swept into the dusty archives of history.

Wei Yuan was stunned, but when he looked at the old servant again, all traces of the strange vision had vanished. The old servant’s movements had become frail and feeble, and the vitality within him was like a candle flame in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.

Wei Yuan did not approach him. Instead, he waved over an official from the posthouse and asked, “Who is he?”

The official immediately turned pale, cold sweat pouring down his brow.

Two days ago, one of the inn’s oddjobbers suddenly fell ill and had been bedridden at home since. Thinking it was no big deal, the official had casually found a frail old man to fill in and paid him just two biscuits a day. The wages, of course, went straight into his own pockets. However, he hadn’t expected to be questioned by the military commissioner on the very first day of work!

Seeing the official’s expression, Wei Yuan had a rough idea what the situation was and asked no further questions. His thoughts raced. Without disturbing the old servant, he walked straight out of the courtyard, mounted his horse, and galloped toward the city gate.

Still, Wei Yuan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of emotions.

In a sense, the posthouse was the face of Great Jin. Aside from diplomatic delegations from other nations, only officials of at least the upper third rank—for example, a provincial commissioner or a commander-in-chief—were permitted to stay there. To think that even a place like this could be exploited for personal gain—it was like squeezing oil from stone.

Wei Yuan couldn’t be bothered to care, nor did he want to. Be it minor officials or major ones, arresting one simply meant that there were still a whole bunch more—it was a never-ending cycle.

Suddenly, he wondered: Would the realm of Qingming end up looking like this in the future?

The 100-strong iron cavalry rode out of the city gate. They were joined by another 400 iron cavalry already waiting outside the city, then guided by a small detachment of royal guards toward the Western Park.

The Western Park where the autumn hunt would be taking place was the Western Jin royal family’s exclusive hunting grounds. It stretched 500 li and encompassed mountains, forests, and rivers.

The autumn hunt was scheduled to begin officially at noon, but Wei Yuan arrived two hours early and was escorted by a eunuch to the martial arena. His cavalry, meanwhile, went to the designated military encampment to set up camp.

As was customary, the autumn hunt was divided into two sessions. The first session was a martial contest, in which warriors selected by various factions compete before the king to determine the champion. Participation was limited to those below the Avatar-stage because Avatars were highly valued no matter the faction. Allowing them to participate in such a competition could easily provoke public outrage, not to mention that a battle between Avatars wasn’t easy to control.

The autumn hunt’s martial arena spanned 1,000 zhang with shaded grandstands erected on both sides. High-ranking officials from all factions had designated seats, and Wei Yuan was no exception. He was allotted a small section on the side grandstand where he could bring 10 personal guards.

Once Wei Yuan had taken his seat on the grandstand, several eunuchs carried a bronze mirror to him. One of them said, “Please examine your appearance in the mirror to ensure you do not appear disrespectful, Lord Wei.”

The bronze mirror was a truly priceless treasure, capable of stripping away disguises and revealing one’s true self. No one below an Immortal Lord could evade its power. Although the mirror had not been fully activated, no manner of ghostly beings or dark entities could escape it either. One shine was all it took to scatter them like the wind.

Inspecting one’s appearance in the mirror was a standard procedure. It was designed to prevent anyone from infiltrating under a false identity or secretly carrying yin devils or ghostly entities. Of course, Wei Yuan had nothing to fear, so he stood calmly before the bronze mirror.

The bronze mirror reflected a gallant, spirited face with sword-like eyebrows. However, they weren’t entirely sharp and retained a touch of restraint at their peak. His nose was high and slender, its shape also sword-like. His lips were red but not garish. As for his eyes, they were striking as a matter of course. Back then, Grandmaster Fen Hai had been particularly fond of Lil Wei Yuan’s eyes and deemed them even more beautiful than Zhang Sheng’s, which had infuriated the swordsman to no end.

The figure in the mirror was wearing a purple-gold hair-binding crown. Tied back somewhat casually, his long hair was fluttering freely in the wind.

Guess I’m not half bad-looking... Wei Yuan wanted to gaze at his reflection a little longer, but seeing that the two young eunuchs were beginning to sweat profusely and struggling to hold up the mirror, he had no choice but to stop. He asked the eunuch beside him, “Is this enough?”

Seeing no sign of oddity from Wei Yuan, the eunuch hurriedly replied, “You are a strikingly handsome man, Lord Wei. Of course it’s... enough....”

The trailing syllable suddenly stretched out, and in Wei Yuan’s eyes, the entire world suddenly turned monochromatic. Everyone’s movements had slowed down by tenfold as well.

There was one last trace of color left in the world, though. In his reflection in the mirror, the iris of his left eye had turned cyan!

A faint, almost inaudible voice echoed in Wei Yuan’s ears. “You are destined with my Buddha, benefactor....”

Wei Yuan emptied his mind and suppressed the three immortal plants to prevent even a trace of aura from escaping. He watched quietly as the world returned to normal, and the eunuch’s voice regained its usual pitch.

The eunuchs carried the bronze mirror away and headed toward the grandstand next door.

Wei Yuan remained seated, his expression betraying no sign of anything unusual. Moments ago, the White Lotus of Tainted Earth had shown signs of stirring as if it were about to unleash its power, but Wei Yuan had suppressed it. As the eunuchs receded into the distance, Wei Yuan wondered to himself: Could it be that even the bronze mirror—a national treasure—had been compromised?

Was it the mystic treasure that had been compromised, or the nation itself?

It seemed that King Ying’s warning wasn’t without reason; the waters of the autumn hunt were indeed very deep. Now more than ever, Wei Yuan was determined not to act recklessly. He would play it safe, take only his share, and if truly necessary, forgo it altogether.

Although King Ying believed he deserved a share of the autumn hunt, Wei Yuan was now well-versed in human nature and knew that some people didn’t see it that way. They believed that everything rightfully belonged to them from birth. There were also those who might have originally thought this share belonged to him, but changed their minds later because they felt that their own portion wasn’t enough.

Recalling how his left eye in the mirror had inexplicably changed color, Wei Yuan feigned nonchalance and casually touched it. Thankfully, he didn’t detect anything unusual.

His thoughts suddenly wandered, and a strange idea crossed his mind: if he failed to make it in life and fell for grace, he could probably at least scrape by a little with this face of his, couldn’t he?

Wei Yuan then thought of the baffling little monk he had encountered some days ago. Although the monk was a bit off his rocker, his face was truly impeccable. If the apocalypse were to descend upon them, he of all people should have no trouble filling his belly.

Perhaps it was precisely because the little monk was so handsome that Wei Yuan had been particularly ruthless that day, hitting his face more times than was necessary.

Noon came in the blink of an eye. Everyone was gathered, and the King of Jin was seated high on the dais, towering above the crowd. Like during the morning court session, his face was hidden in the shadows and impossible to make out clearly.

“Noon has arrived. Let the autumn hunt begin!” The voice of Liu Quangong, General Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, echoed throughout the venue and lingered for a long, long time.

Wei Yuan immediately sensed several pairs of eyes fixed on him. The lookers had not bothered to conceal their gazes at all, their audacity as clear as day. Wei Yuan looked back and saw two men staring at him: one was a burly, hot-tempered-looking man, and the other was another man with hawk-like eyes and a shadow that seemed to linger between the eyebrows.

Like Wei Yuan, both men were military commissioners. One was Xu Tongshou, Military Commissioner of Northern Pacification in the northern frontier. The other was Lü Wenbai, Military Commissioner of Yunxiang, whose fiefdom bordered Eastern Jin and the Tang Imperial Family.

Meanwhile, the court eunuchs were continuously calling out names, and warriors were stepping onto the stage one by one. They were divided into six pairs before they engaged in combat. Moments later, some people emerged victorious while others were defeated. The victors were led to one side of the arena to rest, while most of the defeated had to be carried off. Shortly thereafter, six new pairs took the stage, and the competition continued.

This martial contest was nothing like the one during King Wei’s evening banquet. As this was a demonstration of martial might before the king himself, the warriors who took the stage had been painstakingly selected by kings, dukes, and ministers from all corners of the realm. Each and every single one of them possessed profound cultivation and deep mastery of the Dao techniques. In the blink of an eye, three lives were lost. The bodies and dismembered limbs of the fallen were immediately removed by the eunuchs, though they did nothing to remove the bloodstains—the martial arena would slowly absorb it on its own.

In comparison, King Wei’s martial contest was like children playing house.

Cui Yu and Hsu Yi were standing behind Wei Yuan. After watching just two rounds, both their faces had turned slightly pale. The competitors on the field were such skilled fighters that even they would possess no advantage should they set foot on the battlefield. Moreover, they completely lacked the ruthless ferocity displayed by the contestants.

So far, every contestant had struck with lethal force from the get go and employed every underhanded and deadly tactic imaginable. Forget assassination methods, they were even using the tactics of street thugs all in pursuit of victory.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out from the arena. A swordsman was facing off against a swordswoman. He had already severed her arm and leg, and his victory seemed all but certain. But instead of taking the win, he was stepping on her chest and slowly twisting his foot as he listened to the crisp cracking of her ribs below him.

Suddenly, the swordswoman’s remaining arm extended by a whole chi. Faster than the swordsman could react, she grabbed him between his legs, crushed his private part, sank all five of her fingers into the flesh, and ripped it out raw!

The swordsman let out a blood-curdling scream and swung his saber, severing the swordswoman’s head. Alas, he himself was on his last legs and dropped dead moments later.

With this match setting the tone, the subsequent rounds of combat only grew bloodier and more brutal. The contestants entering the arena kept growing stronger as well. However, the observers were only growing more and more excited as the spectacle unfolded, placing massive bets left and right like their silver was no more valuable than the soil beneath their feet.

An eunuch standing by in the stands asked eagerly, “Why not place a few bets, Lord Wei?”

Wei Yuan smiled politely and replied, “I have no luck at gambling. I’ll pass.”

“That’s a pity. This year’s martial contest is far more spectacular than the ones before....” The eunuch shook his head repeatedly, as if lamenting the hundreds of millions of immortal silver Wei Yuan had missed out on.

Just then, a swordswoman in the arena cleaved her opponent’s earthen shield, the heavy shield in his hand, and his very body diagonally in two. Her feet submerged in the growing pool of blood of her fallen foe, she called out in a clear voice, “Jiang Yao, an independent cultivator of the northern frontier, seeks your guidance, Lord Wei!”

In the end, it came.... Wei Yuan had already anticipated this. He glanced toward the central dais where the King of Jin sat high in the shadows, motionless.

Wei Yuan rose to his feet, picked up the Immaculate Pure Land, and stepped into the martial arena. The surrounding stands fell silent as every bigshot fixed their gazes on Wei Yuan. However, their expressions gave no hint of their true thoughts.

This trial was unavoidable from the moment he chose to attend to the autumn hunt. Looking at it another way, only by demonstrating his prowess would he be worthy of claiming his share of the rewards.

The other pairs in the arena had already finished their battles and left, leaving only Wei Yuan and the swordswoman. She had short hair and an average height. The mystic sword in her hand was four chi long and one palm wide—a greatsword, but not quite a giant sword. She wore a white warrior’s robe—it was likely a mystic robe—with cloth strips wrapped around both of her forearms. They too were mystic artifacts imbued with effects such as Great Strength, Swiftness, and Mystic-Piercing.

She originally had a pretty face, but they were now marred by the fresh wounds she had taken. Her sword techniques were simple yet practical, blending seamless with her Dao techniques. As for her fighting style, it was overflowing with ruthlessness but lacking in finesse—probably something she had honed through countless life-and-death combat.

Wei Yuan came to a halt before her and asked, “I am the court-appointed Military Commissioner of Western Pacification; a second-rank position. What qualifies you to challenge me?”

Caught off guard by the question, the swordswoman hesitated. Although she lacked experience, she knew this wasn’t a question she could answer willy-nilly. If she gave the wrong answer and the King of Jin permitted it, then whatever reason she gave for challenging Wei Yuan could be used by him to challenge the one behind her. When it came to one-on-one combat, it was well-known that the Palace of Absolute Beginning feared no one.

The swordswoman’s ears suddenly twitched, and her face blanched. Her left hand suddenly clenched, but slowly relaxed as she said, “After this battle, regardless of the outcome, I will sever one of my own arms to atone for the offense!”

Wei Yuan asked calmly, “Which arm will you sever?”

The swordswoman turned pale as she abruptly raised her left arm and declared, “My sword-wielding arm!”

Wei Yuan finally nodded and said, “Acceptable.”

On the grandstands, several people seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

Wei Yuan moved away from the swordswoman while the eunuchs quickly cleaned up the blood and debris on the ground, reestablished the array, and then withdrew from the arena.

Suddenly, Wei Yuan sensed a faint gaze resting on him from the central dais. His heart stirred. The King of Jin wouldn’t humiliate him for no reason. Why was he doing this? Or more accurately, what was it that he wanted to see?

Wei Yuan’s thoughts raced, and a pale red petal suddenly appeared at his fingertip. The incredibly pure aura of an immortal spirit instantly caused a stir on the grandstands.

By now, Wei Yuan understood that his greatest claim to fame was none other than the Bay Laurel Immortal Tree. Although he had shown Zhao Tong the Crimson Night Slayer of Immortals, the King of Jin was clearly dissatisfied. What he wanted really to see was the Bay Laurel Immortal Tree’s true form—to verify whether it possessed the power to extend life and restore vitality.

When Zhao Tong had come to Qingming that day to deliver the imperial decree, he had repeatedly emphasized the importance of items that could extend one’s lifespan. Given the vast amount of immortal silver Wei Yuan had offered, Zhao Tong’s hints had naturally become quite clear. Thus, Wei Yuan understood that the King of Jin wasn’t interested in just any immortal tree, nor was he lacking in them—He was specifically seeking out an immortal tree that was capable of extending one’s lifespan.

Since the King of Jin was determined to see it for himself, Wei Yuan decided to show it to him clearly. That was why he had presented the Bay Laurel Immortal Tree’s petals instead of the Crimson Night Slayer of Immortals.

The pale red petal transformed into a wisp of sword qi, vanishing and returning in an instant.

The swordswoman dodged with all her might, but only managed to avoid being hit in her solar plexus. A clean hole had been punched through her left shoulder.