Wuxia: Become the 100-Victory Sword King at the Beginning

The midnight clapper shattered the deathly silence of the capital. Under the locust trees of Liulichang, in the instant crows suddenly took flight, the "Three Heroes of the Night Hawk" of the Red Flower Society's capital branch fell to the ground like meteors, the dark red rust on their black iron chains emitting a fishy smell under the moonlight.

At this moment, two more dark figures descended from the eaves, their swords still sheathed, but the gilded beast head seemed to emanate a ghostly light: "Remnants of the Red Flower, prepare to die!" Chen Feng's black-gold fan hummed and vibrated, the mechanisms between the fan bones poised to be activated, the hidden killing intent solidifying into a tangible form.

"You spies of the imperial court, how dare you stalk me so shamelessly! Do you think I'm afraid of you little thief?!" The scarred old man roared like thunder. Seeing Heshen's handsome appearance, he unleashed the "Thirteen Forms of Dragon Locking"! The black iron chains coiled like dragons, their barbs tearing through the air with a shrill whistle like ghosts howling.

Chen Feng swiftly waved his folding fan, and nine bone-piercing nails shot out in a plum blossom formation, the sound of them piercing the air like a volley of arrows. Erjie spun like butterflies, her throwing knife slipping from her hand, but Heshen's curved blade lightly deflected it, shattering it into a shower of iron filings, the shockwave making her eardrums ache.

"A mere trick!" Heshen laughed wildly as he unleashed the "Divine Blade Slash," his crescent-shaped blade slicing through the void with an arc of light.

Before the blade even arrived, the blue bricks on the ground were already cracking inch by inch, and the air was twisted into a vortex.

The two heroes parried with their swords, only to see the curved blade swirl in the air, twisting the longswords into a twisted mess of iron. The blade grazed their throats, and blood spurted out like a fountain.

The three heroes' eyes were bloodshot, and three bone-piercing nails shot out like a storm. Chen Feng laughed strangely, his fan flashing, and suddenly the words "Greedy for money" shot out like a rain of silver needles. He gritted his teeth and unleashed the "Snow Embracing Blue Pass" sword move. The sword light was like a reversed Milky Way, and when it collided with the fan ribs, it exploded with a deafening roar. The shockwave whipped up his black hair at his temples, and his tiger's mouth was ripped open, bleeding profusely.

In the chaos of battle, the scarred old man's chains stretched like iron chains across the river, tightly binding Heshen's curved blade. The Three Heroes' meteor hammers hurtled towards them, but were entangled by Chen Feng's soft ropes.

As Chen Feng roared and exerted his strength, the three heroes staggered forward. At that moment, Heshen's curved blade slashed down with the force of splitting mountains and shattering rocks. Before the blade even arrived, the ground had already been plowed with a half-foot-deep trench by the blade's energy!
At the critical moment, disciples from the Red Flower Society's Beijing branch came to their aid. Hua Hui pounced like an arrow, her short blade aimed straight for Heshen's back. Heshen spun around and swung his blade back, the arc of his crescent-shaped slashing out carrying with it intense sparks.

Hua Hui took a quick half step back, and a bloody hole the size of a bowl immediately appeared on her shoulder. The excruciating pain made her vision go black, and the smell of blood rushed straight to her throat.

The scarred old man roared, shattering the night sky, and the chains tightened suddenly! Heshen was pulled off balance, and the old man seized the opportunity to unleash his "One Chain Severing the River" killing blow. The black iron chains pierced the air like black lightning, but struck the array of silver needles that Chen Feng had flicked out.

With a deafening crack, the chains snapped inch by inch, sending a hail of iron filings hurtling towards the group. The moment the three heroes threw out their smoke grenades, Hua Hui was grabbed by the scarred old man's iron-like hand. The four leaped onto the rooftops and fled, pursued relentlessly by their enemies.

Upon arriving at the Eight Great Hutongs, torches hung like an inverted galaxy, and the Imperial Guards stood in formation with their swords and spears, the torchlight reflecting off the weapons so brightly it was almost blinding.

"Miss Hua, run!" The scarred old man wrapped half a chain around his waist, his scar twisting menacingly like a living creature. "Tell the Grand Master..." Before he could finish speaking, Chen Feng's fan slashed down with the force of a thunderbolt.

Hua Hui gripped the token tightly, watching as the old man was cleaved off the roof by Heshen's blade, blood blooming in the air like red plum blossoms.

She swung her final sword, but was enveloped by Chen Feng's shadow. Amidst the excruciating pain of the bone-piercing nail piercing her shoulder, her consciousness gradually sank into darkness.

The destruction of the Red Flower Society's Beijing branch by the Imperial Guards, along with the vast sums of money and grain stored inside, became the basis for Shi Feiyang's confidence in increasing the salaries of all the civil and military officials.

However, the heroes of the Red Flower Society in Jiangnan were unaware of this, as was Su Dai, who was hiding in the Jishi Pharmacy.

Three days later, dark clouds loomed over the capital.

Su Dai hid on the second floor of the teahouse opposite "Netherworld Prison," watching the Red Flower Society members approach the bronze door like ghosts.

Zhao Banshan's Bone-Piercing Nail broke the silence first, followed closely by Daoist Wuchen's Soul-Chasing Sword. The moment the sword light cleaved through the rain, Su Dai gripped the railing tightly—she clearly saw Wei Nianhua standing on the high wall, the parting hook in his hand gleaming with a cold, eerie blue light.

"Not good! An ambush!" Luo Bing's Mandarin Duck Blades suddenly turned, and hundreds of Imperial Guards surged out from all directions.

Wei Nianhua's laughter mingled with the downpour: "Those scoundrels from the Red Flower Society, do they really think they can abduct a wanted criminal?"

Su Dai watched as Chen Jialuo was sent flying backward by Heshen's crescent-shaped blade, a metallic taste rising in her throat—it turned out that this was all a meticulously designed trap from beginning to end.

Bai Zhen was no match for Daoist Wuchen, but Heshen, with his extraordinary martial arts skills, sent Chen Jialuo flying and then joined Bai Zhen in the battle against Daoist Wuchen. The power of the Divine Blade Slash was immense. "Golden Crow Blade Saint" You Ning wielded his blade and slashed at the Red Flower Society disciples for a while before flying in to join Heshen and Bai Zhen in attacking Daoist Wuchen. Daoist Wuchen was overwhelmed and his life hung in the balance.

Su Dai could no longer contain herself and leaped down from the teahouse.

Her throwing knife flew like a meteor, but it was knocked away by Wei Nianhua's internal energy when it touched Wei Nianhua's throat. Her martial arts skills were far inferior to Wei Nianhua's, worlds apart.

Shi Huiyu appeared masked, his sleeve wrapped around her wrist, his phoenix eyes swirling with emotions she couldn't understand: "Miss Su, why seek your own death? Your life is so wonderful, following the Emperor, you'll enjoy endless blessings for the rest of your life!"

While Su Dai hesitated, Luo Bing suddenly pointed at her and screamed, "Traitor! That wretched Su Dai has already betrayed us and become a lackey of the Qing court!"

Looking at the blood-stained eyes of the crowd, Su Dai suddenly recalled the warmth of Shi Feiyang shielding her from a hidden weapon on Mount Tongbai.

She abruptly shoved Shi Huiyu away, drew a dagger, and pressed it against her heart: "I, Su Dai, swear to heaven that I have never betrayed the Red Flower Society!"

Before the words were finished, the bronze doors of the Netherworld Prison burst open with a roar, revealing an empty cell with only a flickering solitary lamp.

The torrential rain poured down, drenching the mottled bronze gates of the Netherworld Prison, the splashing water mingling with blood and meandering into streams.

Chen Jialuo, his face deathly pale, gripped the door frame, his knuckles white from the exertion, the bones protruding like jagged rocks.

He let out a low growl like a trapped beast, his voice filled with resentment and despair: "Brother Wen... isn't here..." The voice seemed to come from the deepest hell, carrying a bone-chilling sorrow.

Su Dai stood blankly in the rain, the blood-stained note in her hand already blurred by the rain.

Looking into the despair in Chen Jialuo's eyes, she felt a chill run through her body, as if she had fallen into an ice cave.

Memories flooded her mind like a tide—the sweet times she spent with Shi Feiyang, the days she risked her life for the Red Flower Society—all now felt like sharp blades, tearing at her heart. Suddenly, she threw her head back and burst into laughter, the sound piercing the rain, carrying endless sorrow and despair, startling the crows under the eaves into a flurry of flight.

Before the laughter subsided, Su Dai's dagger flashed with a cold light, heading straight for her own throat. However, just as the blade was about to touch her skin, a strange vortex of suction suddenly appeared, like an invisible hand, forcefully pulling the dagger away.

The dagger sliced ​​through the rain, carrying a chilling killing intent, and flew diagonally towards Luo Bing. Caught off guard, Luo Bing let out a shrill scream, and blood gushed out like a fountain, splashing onto the bluestone slab, like a blooming red plum blossom, gradually spreading in the rain.

Shi Huiyu's eyes suddenly changed, and his figure flashed like a ghost. He pointed his fingers like a sword at Su Dai's "Lingtai acupoint".

Su Dai felt a sudden darkness before her eyes and then lost consciousness.

Shi Huiyu steadily picked her up, and with a light touch of his toes, he dashed away like an arrow released from a bow.

Seeing this, Zhao Banshan roared and waved his hands, sending hidden weapons flying towards Shi Huiyu like a rain of pear blossoms.

Strangely, the hidden weapons were pulled off course by the suction force of vortexes after flying only a few feet, and ended up killing the Red Flower Society disciples around them.

Screams rose and fell, and the heroes of the Red Flower Society stared in disbelief at the bizarre scene, their hearts filled with fear and despair.

By this time, the heroes of the Red Flower Society were already wounded one after another, and this sudden turn of events threw them into disarray.

Faced with the encirclement of the Imperial Guards, they had no choice but to fight and retreat, and in the end, they could only flee in disarray.

Wei Nianhua, Chen Feng, Bai Zhen, He Shen, and the others watched the fleeing Red Flower Society members and sneered. Wei Nianhua waved his hand, his voice as cold as iron: "Clean up the battlefield and remove the corpses." He paused, then added: "Yue Shan, you lead a portion of the Imperial Guards, carrying money and provisions, to comfort those merchants. Don't skimp on the benefits they deserve."

Bai Zhen, Chen Feng, He Shen, and others then turned around and returned to the palace to report back.

Inside the Qianqing Palace, Shi Feiyang sat upright on the dragon throne, exuding an aura of majesty.

After Bai Zhen and the others entered the hall, they immediately knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty, the Red Flower Society has suffered heavy losses this time and is no longer a threat!"

Shi Feiyang smiled with satisfaction: "Good! You have done a great job this time. Tell Zhang Zhaozhong to keep a close watch on Wen Tailai. The whole Red Flower Society will be wiped out thanks to Wen Tailai."

Just then, the eunuch's shrill voice rang out: "Governor-General of Zhili, Feng Yinglian, is here to pay his respects!"

Feng Yinglian strode into the hall and performed a grand salute.

Shi Feiyang smiled and pulled Heshen in front of him: "Minister Feng, this Heshen is my capable assistant, handsome and talented in both literature and martial arts."

Feng Yinglian was incredibly clever, and he immediately understood. He knelt down and said in a loud voice, "Your Majesty, I dare to beg you to grant me permission to marry my granddaughter, Feng, to the guard He!"

Shi Feiyang laughed loudly, a sly glint in his eyes: "Good! Since Minister Feng is so earnest, I will grant this marriage! Heshen, listen to my decree, I hereby appoint you as a third-class imperial guard, a guard of the Imperial Guard, and an attendant in the ceremonial guard, and bestow upon you a thousand taels of silver, granting you half a month's leave, and you shall immediately marry Lady Feng!"

Heshen trembled with excitement and quickly kowtowed, saying, "Thank you for your great kindness, Your Majesty! This servant will serve you with utmost loyalty and devotion!"

Bai Zhen, Chen Feng, You Ning, Lu Fangtian and others stepped forward to offer their congratulations, and the hall was filled with laughter and joy.

Behind this bustling scene, a barely perceptible glint of cold light flashed in Shi Feiyang's eyes—he had already laid out numerous deadly moves in this game of chess between the imperial court and the martial world, and every step he took was a step towards his imperial ambitions.

The twilight in the streets and alleys of the capital was diffused by the drizzle, and the copper gourd signboard of Jishi Pharmacy swayed gently in the wind.

Shi Feiyang removed his dragon robe and put on a blue shirt, with only a mutton-fat jade pendant hanging at his waist, making him look like a refined scholar from Jiangnan.

Bai Zhen and Lu Fangtian disguised themselves as attendants. The three of them avoided the beggars on the street corner and slipped into the back room. The hidden door slowly opened behind the medicine cabinet. In the flickering candlelight, Su Dai lay on the carved bed, her face as pale as paper, her hair still covered with bits of grass and dust from the earlier brawl.

Shi Feiyang dismissed his attendants, and as the bamboo curtain fell, he was already sitting on the edge of the bed.

Su Dai's eyelashes trembled slightly as she caught sight of that familiar green figure, and her fingertips involuntarily tightened around the corner of the blanket.

"Does it still hurt?" Shi Feiyang reached out and touched her forehead. The warmth of his palm, infused with the scent of ambergris, overlapped with the aroma of the warm tent on the pleasure boat in his memory.

Su Dai bit her lower lip, but when she saw the deep concern in his eyes, her eyes suddenly reddened.

"Why does Your Majesty need to concern yourself with me..." She turned her face away, but he gently turned her back to him.

Shi Feiyang ran his fingertips across the corner of her reddened eyes and said softly, "If I don't take care of her, who will?"

These words, like a spring stream, gently washed over the icy heart of Su Dai. She recalled the fleeting ruthlessness in his eyes last night in the Netherworld Prison, and then the tenderness in his palm at this moment. A ridiculous illusion arose in her heart—perhaps, he actually had some genuine feelings for her?

"Why exactly?" Shi Feiyang gently pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Why would someone as wonderful as you get involved in the mess of the Red Flower Society?" Su Dai smelled the scent of agarwood on Shi Feiyang's clothes and listened to the steady heartbeat in his chest. Suddenly, she lost her strength.

Memories flooded her mind like a tide: when she was seven, Yu Wanting had rescued her from the snow, and he smelled of sandalwood on her too; when Chen Jialuo taught her martial arts, he always said, "Sister's Hundred Flowers Fist is still a bit lacking"; and now, the person in her arms could make her feel a moment of longing amidst the bloodshed.

"I...I was orphaned at a young age..." Her voice was filled with sorrow: "It was Chief Yu who gave me a home. He taught me martial arts, taught me to read, and even made me the head of the Vermilion Bird Hall..."

At this point, she suddenly grabbed Shi Feiyang's wrist, "Your Majesty, please spare the Red Flower Society! They are all good people, it's just... just that they have different political views..." Shi Feiyang's body stiffened slightly, but quickly softened again, gently stroking her long hair: "Silly girl, the imperial court and the martial world have always been irreconcilable. Moreover, the Red Flower Society's goal is to overthrow the imperial court!"

He lowered his head, his nose brushing against her brow. "But if you want to plead for mercy... I can make an exception for you."

Su Dai suddenly looked up and gazed into his deep eyes, where there was a cunning light, but also a tenderness she couldn't understand.

"Really?" Her voice trembled, as if grasping at a last straw. Shi Feiyang smiled and nodded, his fingertips caressing her moist lips: "However... the Red Flower Society must leave the Central Plains!"

These words struck Su Dai like a hammer blow, shattering her illusions. She recalled Chen Jialuo's sorrow before leaving, and the horrific torture Wen Tailai had endured; her nails dug deep into her palms. So, he was, after all, an emperor.

And she was nothing more than a pawn on the chessboard. "What exactly does the Emperor want?" Su Dai lowered her eyelids, concealing the pain in her eyes.

Shi Feiyang suddenly lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye: "I want you... to forget Chen Jialuo, to forget the Red Flower Society."

His voice was deep and fervent, “Stay by my side and be my confidante.”

Su Dai gazed at his face so close to hers: "But I... am a member of the Red Flower Society..." she murmured to herself, tears falling onto the back of his hand.

Shi Feiyang bent down and kissed away her tears: "No, you are mine."

This domineering declaration made Su Dai's heart tremble. She felt humiliated and unwilling, but also a secret joy.

Perhaps, in this game, she is no longer just a pawn, but... a player who has fallen in love.

The candlelight in the secret room flickered. Su Dai looked at the jade pendant swaying around Shi Feiyang's neck and finally nodded gently.

She knew that from this moment on, she could never turn back.

The dream of chivalry and chivalry in one's heart will eventually be crushed into dust by the red walls and green tiles of the imperial city.

"Your Majesty...would you lie to me?" she asked softly, her fingertips gripping his sleeve tightly.

Shi Feiyang hugged her tighter, his voice filled with a tenderness he himself didn't realize: "I have deceived everyone in the world, but I never want to deceive you."

These words were like a seed, quietly planting a tender sprout of hope in Su Dai's barren heart.

The rain outside the window had stopped sometime ago, and the moonlight shone through the carved window lattice, weaving a silvery-white net on the ground.

Su Dai leaned on Shi Feiyang's shoulder, listening to his even breathing, and suddenly felt that perhaps the sharpest knife in the world was not a weapon in the martial arts world, but the tenderness of an emperor.

She had already willingly succumbed to this gentle knife.

Before the morning mist in Rehe had dissipated, the bronze bell of the Mountain Resort shattered the pale dawn sky.

Shi Feiyang, draped in a black cloak with a jade dragon hook around his waist, wrapped with wolf sinews presented as tribute from the northern frontier, looked at the forest of banners on the training ground and suddenly thought of the miasma and fog in the mountains of Miao territory—the same banners obscuring the sun, but now he was facing the increasingly lax muscles and bones of the Eight Banners' descendants.

"Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager's imperial carriage has arrived!" The roar of Sukhbaatar, the commander of the Nine Gates of the capital, shook the birch trees by the training ground, causing them to rustle and shed leaves.

This fierce general specially changed into a golden chainmail from the Kangxi era, with the beast-head ornaments on his shoulders gleaming coldly.

As Shi Feiyang turned around, he saw Empress Dowager Chongqing's palanquin slowly approaching, surrounded by palace maids. The mountain wind lifted a corner of the palanquin curtain, which was embroidered with a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix, revealing the empress dowager's ever-lasting pearl hairpin.

"My son, the scale of this autumn hunt is even more impressive than that of your father back then." The Empress Dowager gently stroked the hand warmer in the sedan chair, her voice carrying three parts admiration and seven parts probing. "But the wind in the borderlands always reminds me of... the bloody storm of the nine princes vying for the throne back then."

Shi Feiyang knelt on one knee, his black cloak sweeping across the dew-covered grass: "Your Majesty's teachings are etched in my mind. It is precisely because I do not wish to see the Eight Banners' sons indulge in comfort that I must let them rediscover their true nature of riding and archery during the autumn hunt."

When he looked up, his glassy eyes reflected the waning moon on the horizon. "Like a blade on the Miao battlefield, if it is not sharpened for a long time, it will eventually rust into scrap iron."

Suddenly, the neighing of horses came from the west side of the training ground. For some reason, a prince's mount was startled and threw him to the ground.

Chen Feng strolled over, waving his jade-inlaid folding fan. The list of secret agents hidden between the fan ribs jingled softly with each step. "This prince's horsemanship is probably even inferior to that of the scholars of Jiangnan," he said, deliberately raising his voice to attract whispers from the surrounding soldiers.

Shi Feiyang's gaze was like lightning as he stared at Hongshi's disheveled figure as he scrambled to his feet: "Issue an imperial decree: anyone who falls from their horse during the autumn hunt shall be fined half a year's salary and confined to their quarters for three months!"

Before he finished speaking, Wei Nianhua's farewell hook had already silently been drawn three inches from its sheath—this was the secret signal from the Sticky Rod Office, ready to quell any unrest at any time.

As the autumn hunting party entered the Mulan Hunting Grounds in a grand procession, a flock of crows in the birch forest were startled into flight.

Shi Feiyang drew the ancestral treasured bow of the Aisin Gioro family, the wolf-tooth arrowheads hanging on the bowstring gleaming with a ghostly blue—arrows tempered with the poisonous dragon vine of Miao territory. He suddenly reined in his horse, pointing to several messy hoofprints on the open ground ahead: "Yue Zhongqi, look at these hoofprints, they're of varying depths, don't they look like a pampered young master riding a horse?"

The old general slammed his tiger-headed spear heavily on the ground, startling a few wisps of grass: "Your Majesty, to my humble opinion, it looks like a man on horseback who can't even sit properly in the saddle!" He deliberately glanced at the Eight Banners generals behind him, one of whom immediately blushed.

Suddenly, a tiger's roar echoed through the forest. Bai Zhen soared into the air like an eagle, landing on the top of the tallest birch tree: "Three miles to the northwest, there is a tiger with piercing eyes and a white forehead!" Without a word, Shi Feiyang spurred his horse's flanks, and the precious bow was already drawn to its full extent.

The wind whistled in his ears, and he remembered the words of Emperor Yongzheng before his death: "The prestige of the Eight Banners is forged on horseback!" The moment the arrow left the bowstring, a strange change occurred! The wolf-tooth arrow, which was supposed to go straight for the tiger's eye, deviated from its trajectory halfway and became stuck in the tree trunk.

Shi Feiyang's pupils contracted sharply, and he instantly activated the Mingyu Gong. The ice crystals that rose from his palms froze the reins white—someone had tampered with the arrows!

"Protect the Emperor!" Sukhbaatar's roar startled the birds in the forest. Instantly, the twelve Iron Guards formed a plum blossom formation, protecting Shi Feiyang in the center.

Chen Feng's folding fan snapped open, and the four characters "Heaven's Wrath is Unpredictable" on the fan surface suddenly oozed crimson—it was blood ink that melted upon contact with heat!
"Who did this?" Shi Feiyang's voice was icy cold. Wei Nianhua had already scraped a very fine silk thread from the arrow's fletching, which was the "thousand-weave silk" unique to the Jiangnan weaving industry: "Your Majesty, someone used string control techniques to change the trajectory of the arrow."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the pale-faced commander of the Bordered Yellow Banner in the crowd. "Moreover... this person is right here in the formation."

At this moment, the tiger with its piercing eyes and white forehead pounced close, a stench of rotting flesh assaulting their senses. Shi Feiyang discarded his bow and drew his sword—the very "Heavy Iron Blade" that struck fear into the hearts of enemy soldiers on the Miao battlefield! A flash of cold light, and the tiger's head fell to the ground, its blood splattering onto his black cloak like blooming red plum blossoms.

"Anyone involved in the cheating will be dismissed and investigated!" Shi Feiyang kicked Hu Tou away, drops of blood from the blade falling onto the withered grass. "The autumn hunt is no joke. It's to let the Eight Banners' descendants know that this country has never been won by fancy moves!"

He gazed at the distant mountains ablaze with autumn colors, then suddenly raised his voice, "Issue an imperial decree to exempt three-tenths of the taxes levied on the areas we pass through! Let the people witness that my autumn hunt is not only for the sake of the empire, but also for their sake!"

As night fell, bonfires were lit around the hunting grounds.

Shi Feiyang sat alone in his tent, carefully wiping his blood-stained sword.

Chen Feng's voice came from outside the tent: "Your Majesty, the commander of the Bordered Yellow Banner has confessed..."

"No need for further words." Shi Feiyang interrupted him, the blade reflecting his resolute face in the candlelight. "Hang Daishan's riding boots in the drill ground as a warning, to show that this is the fate of those who crave comfort."

Outside the tent, Wei Nianhua's farewell hook drew a cold light in the moonlight, a signal for the all-night patrol at the sticky pole post.

Shi Feiyang stared at the knife in his hand, recalling the time he fought alongside his soldiers on the Miao battlefield. Now, sitting above thousands of men, he needed to hone not only the blades of the Eight Banners, but also the backbone of this land.

As the first rays of the setting sun painted the northern horizon crimson, the autumn hunt began once more. Shi Feiyang gazed at the banners fluttering across the mountains and plains, then suddenly cracked his whip, pointing into the distance: "Today's hunt! Whoever comes out on top will be rewarded with a hundred taels of gold and promoted three ranks!"

His voice echoed through the valley, startling a flock of wild geese, which flew towards the Forbidden City. The sounds of autumn in the Mulan Hunting Grounds, carried on the wings of these geese, would spread far and wide, proclaiming to the world—the new emperor's blade had long been drawn.

In late spring, the gauze curtains of the East Warm Pavilion in the Hall of Mental Cultivation rustled as willow catkins fluttered in the breeze.

Shi Feiyang stared at the mountain of grain price reports on his desk, his wolf-hair brush heavily etching the four characters "rice prices soaring" onto the paper. Suddenly, the warbling of orioles outside the window became shrill—this was the third emergency report of a rice-buying frenzy this month.

"Why is the order to burn pots not working?" He suddenly slammed the memorial on the table, causing the underglaze red brush washer to jump. "Wei Nianhua, although you are a minister of the Imperial Study, you are still in charge of my Sticky Rod Office. What are those spies doing?"

The commander of the sticky pole knelt on one knee, the cold glint of the farewell hook in his sleeve reflecting on his tightly pursed lips: "Your Majesty, the newly appointed Governor-General of Zhili is secretly condoning the wineries, and the young masters of the Jiangnan textile bureau are even indulging in brewing Shaoxing wine..."

He paused, then pulled a wax pill from his pocket. "This is a secret report from Chen Feng in Yangzhou. Local wealthy households have hoarded millions of tons of grain, but are using a third of their fertile land to brew wine."

Shi Feiyang's fingertips dug deeply into the dragon table, his nails almost digging into the grain of the rosewood: "I originally thought that by blocking the brewing of wine, we could save grain. But I forgot..." He suddenly recalled the scene of the Miao tribes brewing zaba wine with glutinous rice, and a bitter taste rose in his throat, "Forgot that capital pursues profit, like rivers flowing into the sea, it's better to dredge than to block." Chen Feng stepped into the hall, waving a newly made bamboo fan. The five characters "Food is the first necessity of the people" on the fan were made of cinnabar presented by the Governor-General of Sichuan: "Your Majesty, although the decree on burning pots is dead, we still have other options."

He raised his hand and waved aside the gauze curtain, revealing a young eunuch turning over the soil outside the window. "Look at this empty space in the Forbidden City. This servant has tried planting some sweet potato vines, and they will be ready for harvest in three months."

Shi Feiyang's eyes lit up as he recalled the "Complete Treatise on Agriculture" presented by Western missionaries last year: "Issue an imperial decree that all provincial governors come to the Forbidden City to collect sweet potato seeds. Also, send people to Hubei and Hunan to promote corn, as that stuff is drought-resistant and can survive in mountainous areas."

He suddenly turned to Bai Zhen, "Take the men from the Sticky Rod Office to Jiangnan and investigate all those grain storage cellars for me—if you find any collusion between officials and merchants..." "This servant understands. Cut off three feet of land, and not a blade of grass will grow." Bai Zhen's eagle claws clenched until his knuckles turned white, and the Taotie pattern on his breastplate seemed to come alive.

Three days later, at the morning court session, the Minister of Revenue's hands trembled as he held the account books: "Your Majesty, cannibalism has occurred in many places in Zhili and Shandong..."

Before he could finish speaking, Shi Feiyang slammed his jade paperweight on the table: "Open the granaries and release the grain!" He looked at the silent officials below, "Take three million shi of millet from my private treasury to save Zhili first!" Rui Xin'er stepped forward and knelt, his court beads clanging against the blue bricks: "Your Majesty is benevolent, but the national treasury's grain reserves are only enough to last three months. Now the population is surging, but arable land..."

“Therefore, I will implement the ‘equalization of land tax and poll tax’,” Shi Feiyang interrupted him, “and find out all the hidden lands of the gentry, and then encourage their reclamation—Wei Nianhua, aren’t your people in the Sticky Pole Bureau good at finding secret passages? Go and find out how many fertile fields are still hidden in this world!”

That night, Shi Feiyang sat alone in the Qianqing Palace, gazing intently at the annotations for "Kangxi and Qianlong's Prosperous Era" in the Kangxi Dictionary. The sweet potato vines on his desk were half-wilted. He reached out to water them, but accidentally knocked over the inkstone, and the ink splattered onto the Xuan paper, creating a murky black stain that resembled a map of the drought in Jiangnan.

"Master," Wei Nianhua's voice drifted down from the rafters, "Chen Feng discovered something strange in Jiangnan—those wealthy households are hoarding grain using the underground palace of the former Ming Emperor Jianwen." As he leaped down, a few drops of glutinous rice flour clung to the soles of his boots. "This servant tasted it; the grain was moldy, yet they deliberately spread rumors of a famine to inflate rice prices." Shi Feiyang's jade dragon hook suddenly unsheathed itself a short distance, its cold light reflecting off the icy blue of his eyes: "Where is Chen Feng?"

"He's already taken the bone-piercing nail to the underground palace." Wei Nianhua paused. "He said he wanted to let those rats know that the hooks at the sticky poles are deeper than rat holes." Half a month later, good news came from Jiangnan. When Chen Feng blew open the underground palace with gunpowder, the moldy rice inside was piled higher than the city wall.

Looking at the moldy rice sample presented, Shi Feiyang suddenly thought of the rotting corpses in the miasma of Miao territory, and his stomach churned: "Grind this rice into powder, mix it with Guanyin clay, and distribute it to the suffering people."

He paused briefly, then said, "At the same time, the list of wealthy households who hoarded grain will be made public, their property confiscated, and their families sent to the brothels—I want the world to understand that those who profited from the national crisis deserve a fate worse than death!"

Meanwhile, the sweet potato fields in Zhili region ushered in a bumper harvest.

Shi Feiyang changed into coarse cloth clothes and personally dug sweet potatoes in the field. Watching the purple-skinned, white-fleshed crop roll into the soil, he couldn't help but think of cassava in Miao territory—also a crop used to relieve famine, but which fed countless mountain people.

"Your Majesty, the yield of these sweet potatoes can reach three thousand catties per mu!" The Vice Minister of Revenue reported excitedly, holding the account book. "If this were promoted nationwide..."

"Don't be too happy yet." Shi Feiyang wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the people planting corn in the distance. "Issue the order to exempt the entire country from grain taxes for three years." He took out a blood-dripping guillotine from his sleeve; the sound of its mechanism startled a flock of sparrows. "But if any county or prefectural official is found to have embezzled disaster relief grain..."

"This servant understands!" Wei Nianhua's farewell hook drew a cold arc in the sunlight. "The spies from the Sticky Pole Bureau have disguised themselves as refugees and are closely monitoring various prefectures and counties."

As the autumn winds rose, Shi Feiyang stood atop the Meridian Gate, watching the convoys laden with grain slowly depart from the city. Chen Feng waved a fan embroidered with the character "丰" (abundance), with secret reports from various regions tucked between the fan ribs: "Your Majesty, seventy percent of the sweet potatoes and corn have been planted, the remaining thirty percent..."

“Leave it to the people who grow cotton.” Shi Feiyang gazed at the drifting clouds on the horizon, recalling the “potato pyramid” mentioned by Western missionaries. “What I pursue is not a single granary, but a world where all grains are plentiful.”

As night fell, the candlelight in the Hall of Mental Cultivation remained burning until dawn.

In his "Complete Treatise on Agricultural Administration," Shi Feiyang annotated in vermilion ink: "The people depend on food for survival, and food depends on good governance. If governance is not sound, food supplies will be unstable; if food supplies are unstable, the country will be in danger." Outside the window, the sounds of Wei Nianhua's farewell hook and the night watchman's drum intertwined, like the heartbeat of an emperor, measuring the hunger and thirst of the vast land on this prosperous night. (End of Chapter)