The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Wang Zhonghua's mind went blank for a moment, a tremendous sense of dread, stemming from his very survival instinct, shooting from his spine to the top of his head. He never imagined that his first direct confrontation with the supreme power of this era would take place in such a secretive and dangerous situation! Countless questions surged through his mind like boiling magma:

Why did the emperor not visit the heavily guarded Chenzhou government office, but instead secretly go to the merchant Lü's residence? Was it to deliberately avoid Chen Shimei's spies, or was there another deeper meaning?

Why wasn't the powerful regional official Chen Shimei accompanied by the emperor? Instead, the demoted Di Qing and the nearly retired Ouyang Xiu were sent to accompany him. Was Di Qing's demotion not a sign of weakness, but rather a deliberate move by His Majesty? Was Ouyang Xiu's appearance in Chenzhou also on secret orders?

Why do they know so much about a country bumpkin like me? Was it Di Qing's recommendation, Ouyang Gong's observation, or... does His Majesty control another, unknown intelligence network? Is Chen Shimei completely unaware of this, or has he already been excluded from the core?

These thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning, and a strong, almost tearing sense of crisis, along with a glimmer of opportunity emerging from the dead end, seized him at the same time.

He forcefully suppressed his surging blood and qi. The soul he had cultivated through two lifetimes and the resilience forged in the crucible of war since his transmigration came into play at this moment. He stepped forward and, with the utmost solemnity, bowed deeply to the person in the main seat, his waist bent almost at a ninety-degree angle. He tried his best to keep his voice steady, yet it carried a subtle, barely concealed tremor, revealing the extreme shock and awe in his heart: "This humble subject, Wang Zhonghua, pays his respects to... Your Majesty."

This time, he didn't hesitate at all and directly revealed that supreme identity, both to confirm it and to completely place himself under the might of the thunderous heavens.

A faint hint of surprise flashed in Emperor Renzong's eyes, seemingly not expecting Wang Zhonghua to confirm his identity and react so quickly and accurately. He smiled slightly, a smile that seemed to possess a strange magic, slightly dispelling the solemnity in the room. His voice was gentle and mellow, yet carried an undeniable authority: "Rise. I have long heard of Wang Zhonghua's name; seeing him today, I can see his extraordinary courage. Sit."

"Thank you for your great favor, Your Majesty." Wang Zhonghua bowed again, then carefully sat down on the embroidered stool below Lü Sanjun, leaning slightly forward with the utmost respect, as if facing a primordial beast that might awaken at any moment and devour its prey, or as if listening to the final judgment that would determine his fate.

Emperor Renzong's gaze slowly swept over him, like a top connoisseur assessing a rare and precious artifact that had suddenly appeared in the world, or like weighing a newly forged, yet unseen, peerless blade. His gaze was calm and serene, yet carried an immense weight. After a long silence, he spoke slowly, his voice still gentle, but every word struck Wang Zhonghua's heart like an ice pick:

"Wang Zhonghua, you rose from humble beginnings with a bowl of spicy soup, amassing wealth from the rich and powerful with your 'Drunken Eight Immortals' restaurant, and even secretly trained 'Hidden Arrows,' wielding a steel knife with ruthless decisiveness and absolute authority. You have stirred up the waters of Chenzhou into a turbulent and unpredictable place. I would like to ask you, before you have even reached adulthood, what is your purpose in painstakingly building this vast empire? Is it to become richer than a country and live a carefree life? Or to wield absolute power and become a local tyrant? Or…?"

He leaned forward almost imperceptibly, his eyes, seemingly capable of piercing the deepest hell, locking onto Wang Zhonghua. His tone was calm, yet every word was piercing, "...You also want to sit in my chair?"

"Thump!" Lü Sanjun could no longer hold on and slid off the chair to the ground, trembling like a leaf, too weak to even get up. Di Qing's fingers, resting on his knees, tightened abruptly, his knuckles turning white. Ouyang Xiu's stroking of his beard also froze instantly, his eyelids lowered, concealing the fleeting glint of shrewdness in his eyes.

A bead of cold sweat instantly beaded on Wang Zhonghua's forehead, trickling down his brow and into the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision. He knew this was the true gates of hell, the edge of an abyss. One wrong word, and not only would his head roll, but Sanyi Village, the Lü family mansion, and everything connected to him would be crushed to dust by this thunderous might, leaving nothing but desolation. He took a deep breath, the air seeming to carry icy shards, tearing at his lungs.

"Reporting to...Reporting to Your Majesty." His voice was hoarse from extreme tension, but he struggled to speak clearly, each word deliberate and deliberate, as if carving words on a knife's edge. "My initial request was so humble and insignificant, nothing more than the three words 'to survive.' To prevent my father from having to fish in the river in winter, to allow my mother to have a bowl of hot soup, to free my sister from fear, and to allow the villagers who follow me to stand tall and not be bullied like pigs and dogs by the local tyrants. Spicy soup is my means of survival, 'Drunken Eight Immortals' is a stroke of luck that struck me, 'Hidden Arrow'..."

A bitter smile appeared on his face, a smile more heartbreaking than tears. "It was Qiu Laohu's knife to my throat, it was Lu Laojiu's bandits surrounding the village, it was the only straw I could grasp to survive after being driven to the brink of despair."

He raised his head, his gaze as clear as the purest mountain stream, untainted by any impurity, bravely meeting the soul-crushing stare: "Your Majesty, try it if you don't believe me—in this dog-eat-dog world, in Chenzhou, a place surrounded by tigers and wolves, without this little bit of protection, I wouldn't even be able to keep my iron pot for cooking soup; I would have long since become a pile of forgotten bones! 'Hidden Arrow' has never been a tool for me to retaliate, fight, or seize power; it is merely a tattered shield, protecting the hundreds of people in Sanyi Village so they can sleep peacefully and eat a bite of food that won't be stolen! I swear to Heaven, if I harbor even the slightest thought of claiming supremacy or coveting the divine weapon, may I be struck by lightning, die without a burial place, and never be reincarnated!"

He didn't shout those high-sounding slogans of loyalty to the emperor and patriotism; every word seemed to have rolled through mud and blood, carrying the most primal desire for survival and the simplest belief in protection from the common people. This was the most humble honesty, yet also, in this situation, the sharpest and most direct form of self-preservation.

Emperor Renzong listened in silence, his face showing neither joy nor anger. Only the rhythmic, gentle tapping of his fingertips on the rosewood armrests sounded like a death knell, striking Wang Zhonghua's already crumbling defenses.

After a long silence, the emperor suddenly chuckled softly. The laughter was so gentle, yet it chilled the room to the bone: "What a beautiful 'survive.' So sincere and moving. Now, let me ask you another question—"

His voice suddenly turned sharp, like an iceberg bursting open, a cold blade drawn from its sheath, "That 'steel' sword in your hand, sharp enough to cut through iron like mud, is something even border soldiers would fight tooth and nail on the battlefield. Those 'hidden arrows' under your command, trained by you to fight to the death among the soldiers—if someone were to offer ten thousand taels of gold or a peerless beauty for your sword, if someone were to threaten you with the lives of your parents and younger sister to force your loyalty, then…would the sharpness of your 'hidden arrows,' the edge of your 'steel' sword, be pointed at my empire, or at my enemies?"

The air froze completely, as if solidified into ice, threatening to freeze and crush everyone. Lü Sanjun lay paralyzed on the ground, his face deathly pale. Di Qing's breathing became heavier. Ouyang Xiu also frowned slightly.

Wang Zhonghua stood up abruptly and bowed deeply again. This time, his bow was slow and heavy, as if he were carrying a thousand-pound burden, wanting everyone in the study, especially the one in the main seat, to see his unreserved submission and resolute determination: "Your Majesty! A knife is a weapon, but also a weapon of death! This humble subject understands better than anyone else in the world the principle that 'a common man is innocent, but possessing a treasure is a crime!'" His voice suddenly rose, carrying a ruthless and sincere determination, as if he had burned his bridges and was gambling everything. "Therefore, this humble subject dares to humbly request Your Majesty—this method of steelmaking, this humble subject is willing to offer it up without reservation! If the court wishes to set up workshops to supervise its production, this humble subject is willing to give all his knowledge and serve with utmost loyalty! If General Di needs divine weapons to bolster the army's prestige, all the steel knives under my command are at your disposal, and the 'Hidden Arrow' soldiers are also at your command!"

He turned sharply to Di Qing, his eyes slightly red, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly with excitement:

"General Di! You have fought valiantly on the northwestern frontier, enduring wind and dew, protecting the countless people of our Great Song Dynasty and safeguarding the beautiful land of our nation! You and the soldiers of the border army are the true masters of this 'steel' blade! If my humble skills can be used to forge a battle blade, giving our Great Song soldiers a greater chance of victory on the battlefield and reducing the bloodshed; if it can help you, General, slay generals and capture flags, thus enhancing our national prestige, I, your humble servant, will..."

"...Even if I were to die right now, it would be worth it!"