In the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, I wrote my will in the examination hall.

The three riders rode out side by side, their hooves striking the bluestone slabs with a crisp, resolute sound, creating a strange rhythm at the foot of the imperial city.

The man in the center, dressed in a scarlet robe and jade belt, was none other than Yang Yan.

On the left, a towering man clad in gleaming armor stands—the future "God of Doors," the Martial Saint Qin Qiong; on the right, a slender scholar in a blue robe stands tall and straight—the future "God of War," Li Jing.

The three walked on in silence, with only the sound of the wind passing by their ears.

Yang Yan's hands, which were gripping the reins, were slightly damp with sweat, not from nervousness, but from an indescribable excitement.

He glanced sideways, his eyes sweeping over the two great figures on his left and right.

An invisible tension quietly permeated the three of them.

With his left hand, he was a general who could turn the tide; with his right hand, he was a strategist who could plan and direct.

These two figures, who would one day support half of a new dynasty, strike fear into the hearts of the Turks, and make all the barbarians kneel and submit, were forcibly brought together under the banner of the Great Sui Dynasty by a hand from a thousand years in the future.

Only Yang Yan himself knows the historical significance of this moment.

"This feeling of being on a winning streak is so exhilarating."

Yang Yan felt a surge of satisfaction, but then regained his composure, for a solitary figure had already come into view on the high slope ahead.

Upon reaching the high slope, the view suddenly opened up, and the vast outline of the Daxingyuan training ground resembled a giant beast crouching in the distance, with billowing dust and fluttering banners.

On that inevitable road, a man and a horse had been waiting for a long time.

The young man was about seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in fine clothes, with a sword hanging at his waist. His brows revealed an innate nobility and arrogance, and he was tapping his palm lightly with his riding whip with slight impatience.

Seeing that Yang Yan and others had arrived, he lazily spurred his horse and came to greet them.

Yang Yan reined in the horse, and the Jade Lion of the Night let out a long neigh before coming to a steady stop.

"Uncle Bao, Brother Yaoshi, please stop for a moment."

With a smile on his face, Yang Yan pointed to the approaching young man in brocade robes and introduced him in a loud voice.

"The man in front of you is Li Mi, courtesy name Xuansui, whom I mentioned before." Yang Yan emphasized his words, adding meaningfully, "He comes from the Li clan of Liaodong, and his great-grandfather was Li Bi, one of the Eight Pillar Generals of Western Wei and Minister of Works!"

The instant the name "Li Bi" was uttered, something deeper seemed to flash across Li Mi's eyes, so fast that it was impossible to catch.

"Greetings, Your Highness!"

Li Mi bowed to Yang Yan from horseback, but his gaze went past Yang Yan and brazenly surveyed the two people behind him.

His gaze was as if he were looking at two pieces of merchandise waiting to be sold.

Yang Yan, seemingly oblivious to Li Mi's arrogance, turned around and solemnly pointed at Qin Qiong: "Xuansui, let me introduce you. This gentleman to my left is Qin Qiong of Qizhou, Qin Shubao. He possesses unparalleled bravery and is my future reliance!"

Although Qin Qiong was not good with words, he knew proper etiquette. He immediately clasped his hands in greeting and said in a steady voice, "Qin Qiong greets Prince Li!"

Li Mi nodded slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment on Qin Qiong's worn-out battle robe and burly physique. A hint of disdain flashed in his eyes, as if he were just a "brute." He simply returned the salute indifferently: "With your physique, Qin Qiong is quite the material for charging into battle."

The tone was condescending, as if he were commenting on his own servant.

Qin Qiong frowned slightly, but did not lash out. He simply retreated halfway down his horse in silence.

Yang Yan sneered inwardly. Li Mi, if you don't correct this arrogant habit, you'll suffer greatly in the future. But there's no rush, there's plenty of time to teach you a lesson.

He pointed to Li Jing on his right, his tone becoming even more solemn, even tinged with sternness: "This is Li Jing, also known as Li Yaoshi. He is the nephew of the famous general Han Qinhu, and possesses the wisdom of a million soldiers. I have appointed him as my Chief Military Advisor. From now on, all troop deployments and strategic planning in the army will be decided by Brother Yaoshi!"

At this point, Yang Yan stared into Li Mi's eyes and said, word by word, "Xuansui, although you have read a few military books, most of them are theoretical. In the future, in the army, you must learn from your senior brother, the physician, and treat him with the respect due to a disciple. You must not be negligent!"

The air seemed to freeze for a moment after he said that.

Li Jing quickly cupped his hands in greeting: "Your Highness is too kind. I am unworthy of such praise. Greetings, Prince Li."

Li Mi's perfunctory smile froze on his face, and a sudden burst of annoyance flashed in his narrow eyes.

His left hand, resting on the saddle, unconsciously and heavily pressed his thumb against the second knuckle of his right index finger—a small gesture he made only when he was deeply engrossed in thought or trying his best to suppress his emotions.

To make him learn from an unknown minor official? And even have him perform the rites of a disciple? Are you kidding me!

Are you kidding me!

Who is Li Mi? He is a scion of a top-tier aristocratic family, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Although his family has declined, he has always believed that he can lead his family to rise again. Otherwise, he would not have sought refuge with Yang Yan. Moreover, he boasts that he is proficient in both literary and military arts.

He looked at Li Jing in front of him and thought he was just a weak scholar. Apart from being a little older than him, he didn't think much of him. He couldn't understand what Li Jing was capable of being his teacher.

"Your Highness is joking."

Li Mi returned the greeting with a forced smile: "Since you are General Han's nephew, you must have some family learning. However, matters of state are not child's play. Theory without practice is ultimately insufficient; we must see real results in the future."

Li Jing remained calm, as if he hadn't noticed the sarcasm in the other person's words at all, and simply smiled slightly: "What the young master says is absolutely right."

That nonchalant attitude was like punching cotton, making Li Mi even more frustrated.

Yang Yan saw all of this but did not point it out.

Some conflicts cannot be suppressed; they must be allowed to clash on the training ground to determine who is genuine and who is worthless.

"Alright, we can catch up later."

Yang Yan flicked his whip, pointing to the bustling drill ground in the distance: "There's more important business today. I need to select the most elite soldiers to form the Changning Guard. Li Mi, how are your preparations?"

When the matter was settled, Li Mi put away his arrogance and said solemnly, "Your Highness, as you instructed, I have reviewed the rosters of the twelve guards of Daxing Garden who are on duty. I have initially selected 12,000 men, all of whom are from respectable families with no prominent backgrounds. They are currently lined up in the drill ground, waiting for Your Highness to personally review and select them!"

"Twelve thousand people?" Yang Yan nodded. "Not bad efficiency."

According to regulations, a prince is allowed to bring 500 guards when he goes south to Lingnan.

But these five hundred people were a public ceremonial procession, meant for the court and the Xian family to see.

What Yang Yan truly needs is a knife hidden in the shadows.

The other thousand people will travel south in batches as "servants," "attendants," and "vagrants"—this is his trump card for turning the tide.

This time there are 1,500 people in total, and he must personally oversee their selection and ensure that they are loyal to him alone!

"Let's go! Come with me and see if these men of the Sui Dynasty still have any spirit left!"

"promise!"

The four men responded in unison, spurred their horses, and galloped towards the Daxingyuan training ground.

The horses' hooves kicked up dust, and Li Mi deliberately lagged behind by half a horse's length, following at the rear of the group.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze fixed on the back of the scholar in the blue robe in front of him, with the straightforward scrutiny and suspicion characteristic of a martial artist.

Although Li Jing was a decent horseman, he was thin and didn't even have a proper sword at his waist, only a worn-out pen and a book.

This appearance makes him look like one of those pedantic scholars who only know how to shake their heads and spout classical phrases.

"He doesn't even have a trace of military spirit, yet he dares to claim to be a strategist?"

Li Mi snorted inwardly, a disdainful smile curving his lips.

Your Highness has probably misjudged this person. Perhaps you recruited him simply because of his excellent official document writing skills, or perhaps out of respect for Han Qinhu?

As for me learning from him?

Li Mi gripped the riding whip tightly, a competitive glint flashing in his eyes.

"Since His Highness praises you so highly, then when we get to the training ground, I'll see if you, the 'Chief Military Officer,' can really distinguish between a long spear and a horse lance!"

The wind howled as the four of them headed in the same direction, resolutely plunging into the billowing dust of history.

As they galloped along, Li Mi deliberately lagged behind. The resentment and competitiveness on his face gradually subsided, replaced by a cold assessment and amusement.