In the late spring of the eighth year of Emperor Xuan's reign, before the willow catkins in Chang'an had fallen, the sound of thunderous hooves sent them crashing into the dust. The banks of the Wei River were no longer the picturesque scene of willows and painted bridges that they had once been. From the Wei Bridge, the thirty-mile stretch of riverbank and official road was packed with people. People from all walks of life in Chang'an, from the elderly to toddlers, were dressed in their finest attire. Some had even sold their possessions just to buy a pot of fine wine with which to toast the white-haired emperor on this triumphant journey.
'They've arrived...' someone called out in a trembling voice from within the crowd.
The once bustling riverbank fell into a deathly silence.
On the horizon, a thin, dark line appeared: the Feathered Forest Cavalry emerging from the Blood Pool of the Northern Desert. They carried no bright banners or exaggerated military music; only a murderous aura ingrained in the cracks of their armour remained unyielding after three thousand miles of wind and snow. Each warhorse carried a leather bag containing a special potion and the head of a Xiongnu commander of ten thousand cavalry or higher. Three thousand elite cavalrymen, representing the most arrogant three thousand souls of the grasslands, swayed like wind chimes in the warm spring sun, exuding a suffocating blend of bloodshed and glory. At the forefront of this black tide, a jet-black steed with fiery eyes strode steadily onto the Wei Bridge. The rider, dressed in black robes embroidered with dragon patterns and sporting flowing white hair, wore no heavy helmet, allowing his iconic white locks to flutter in the spring breeze. His double pupils were slightly lowered; he appeared calm, yet he seemed to contain a power capable of tearing the heavens apart.
The moment Liu Bingyi's horse touched the first bluestone slab of the Wei Bridge with a resounding 'thump', the three thousand people closest to the riverbank knelt down in unison like harvested wheat. They weren't kneeling out of fear, but because they were overwhelmed by what they saw as a 'miracle'.
'Welcome back in triumph, Your Majesty! Long live the Han Dynasty! Long live the God of War!' This cry was not a rehearsed slogan uttered by officials, but the eruption of pent-up passion from hundreds of thousands of people from Guanzhong who had endured three years of suppression along the thirty-mile-long street. The sound was like a tsunami or a landslide, shaking the waves of the Wei River back several inches. Liu Bingyi reined in his horse and stopped at the bridgehead. Looking down, he saw his people kneeling in the mud. Three years ago, when he set off from here, Chang'an was still under the shadow of the Huo family and the people looked at this young emperor with suspicion and pity. Now, the light in their eyes was not awe, but almost fanatical worship of a 'savior'. 'Your Majesty, they are waiting for you to speak.' Wang Changqing rode alongside Liu Bingyi. This former street ruffian was now pale with fear in the face of this torrent of public opinion. Liu Bingyi slowly raised his right hand and, instantly, the clamour ceased and hundreds of thousands fell silent. Only the sound of the Wei River could be heard.
'I burned the Wolf-Dwelling Mountain in the northern desert.' Liu Bingyi's voice wasn't loud, but it was amplified by System 4.0: National Fate Resonance and clearly reached everyone's ears. 'I want to tell you, and I want to tell the world, that from this day forward, those who invade the Han Dynasty will no longer be subject to "punishment no matter how far away". Because in this world, there is no place I cannot reach!" "Long live the Emperor!"
'Long live the Emperor!' Long live the Emperor! The frenzied shout erupted once more. Liu Bingyi closed his eyes and felt the national fortune gauge pulsating frantically in his sea of consciousness. In this moment, he was not a monarch governing the country, but a deified emperor. He wanted to make his name, 'Liu Bingyi', the Han people's eternal faith. Just as he reached the pinnacle of being worshipped by the masses, a purple sphere of light deep within his sea of consciousness suddenly exploded.
[Ding! Because the host has completely shattered the Xiongnu's national fortune and won the hearts of the people, the system is issuing a top-tier strategic reward.'
'Congratulations, host, on obtaining the Western Regions Holographic Sandbox (Real-time Fog Version)!' Liu Bingyi's breath caught slightly. In his mind's eye, an unprecedentedly grand panorama slowly unfolded — a three-dimensional, dynamic sand table covering the entire Western Regions, Central Asia and even the far west. The existing territories of the Han Dynasty shimmered with a stable golden light on the sand table, while the areas not yet controlled by the Han were shrouded in thick, swirling grey mist — the 'real-time fog'. But what chilled Liu Bingyi even more was that he could see, with the movement of his mind, birds flying over every city of the thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions and sweat dripping from the horses of caravans on the Silk Road. Even beneath the fog, he could sense the Xiongnu remnants hiding in the valleys, barely clinging to life. Red dots flickered in the grey fog, like lambs to the slaughter. 'Real-time fog version.' Liu Bingyi sneered to himself: With this, he no longer needed scouts or had to worry about ambushes. Any enemy movement was as clear as drawing on a blank sheet of paper; the world held no secrets for him.
This was the privilege of the victor: absolute control, earned by eating sand in the desert and wading through pools of blood.
As the army slowly entered the city, the atmosphere on Zhuque Street reached its climax. The girls of the brothel showered red petals from the taverns lining the street. However, these delicate petals were often intercepted by the Imperial Guards before they could touch the ground. The bloodthirsty aura that had condensed on the cavalry armour shattered instantly — a perfect fusion of beauty and violence. Liu Bingyi noticed several cold, sinister gazes lurking in the shadows of the cheering crowd. These were the last remaining members of powerful clans who had once been affiliated with the Huo family and who had not yet been eradicated by the 'Azure Eagle Division'. Rather than ordering their arrest, he subtly shifted the perspective of the 'Western Regions Holographic Sand Table' in his mind to a specific part of Chang'an City.
In an instant, all the 'red dots' plotting in the deep courtyards and lurking in the shadows were exposed to his view.
'Changqing,' he called softly without turning his head. 'Your subject is here.' 'The people are happy today, and I don't want to see bloodshed.' Liu Bingyi stroked the white hair at his temples. His eyes were as cold as knives. 'But after nightfall, I hope to see a clean Chang'an City on the holographic sand table.' Wang Changqing shuddered. Seeing the purple flame in the emperor's eyes, he knew that Chang'an would be embroiled in a final, celebratory purge tonight. Liu Bingyi looked ahead again. The majestic Weiyang Palace was now within reach — where he would face his final battle: a battle of life and death; a battle for the woman hidden deep within his heart.
As Liu Bingyi rode his horse across the wide moat bridge at the south gate of Chang'an, he witnessed the people's jubilation and a significant shift in the centre of power. Led by Zhang Anshi, more than three thousand Han Dynasty officials, ranging from the chancellor and grand commandant to minor officials, had removed their swords and hats. They knelt in order of rank along both sides of the official road. The crimson and purple of their official robes appeared humble and sombre against the backdrop of the black armour and iron cavalry, extending from the city gate to the square in front of Weiyang Palace. The officials shouted in unison: 'We respectfully welcome Your Majesty's triumphant return! Your Majesty's divine might is unparalleled throughout history; may the Han dynasty prosper forever!' Though loud, their voices could not conceal the tremor within.
Liu Bingyi reined in his horse and stopped before Zhang Anshi. Rather than telling him to rise, he looked down at this veteran minister, who had served two dynasties. Three years ago, when Liu Bingyi set out from here, he had to address Zhang Anshi politely as 'Lord Zhang'. Now, however, his silence created an oppressive atmosphere that froze the air.
Time ticked by in the deathly stillness. A full quarter of an hour passed without a word from Liu Bingyi. The usually pampered and privileged officials pressed their foreheads to the scorching ground, sweat dripping from their faces into the dust, yet not one dared to move an inch. They could sense that the white-haired emperor no longer felt human anger; rather, he felt the indifference of a god looking down on ants. 'Zhang Anshi,' said Liu Bingyi finally, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. 'This old minister is here.' Zhang Anshi bowed even lower. 'I have killed enough in the northern deserts, and this old sword has drunk its fill of blood.'
Liu Bingyi's hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, his fingertips tapping rhythmically. 'I came back to Chang'an planning to put my weapons away. But just now, at the city gate, I could still smell the musty scent of the Huo family lingering in the air. What would you suggest I do?" These words plunged the officials into a chilling abyss. They all knew the emperor was issuing a warning. Although the Huo family had been destroyed, he meant that the old forces clinging to powerful clans and officials still observing the political climate were the source of the 'musty smell'. 'Your Majesty...' Zhang Anshi replied tremulously. 'Both thunder and rain are acts of imperial grace. Now that you have returned to the throne, only you can set the rules of Chang'an. If there is any musty smell, I humbly request Your Majesty's judgement to eradicate it completely.' A mocking smile played on Liu Bingyi's lips as he rode slowly through the officials. The thunderous hooves of the black-armoured cavalry echoed in their ears, each step feeling like a blow to their hearts. The army slowly entered the main gate of Weiyang Palace.
As they did so, the System 4.0 notification sounded in Liu Bingyi's mind again:
[System Monitoring: Host's Prestige Value has reached its limit (100/100)!]
'Imperial Achievement Unlocked — Sole Supremacy,' the host's will is the will of the empire, immune to all internal backlash. Liu Bingyi stood on the high, white marble steps of Xuan Shi Hall, his white hair flying in the wind. Behind him lay the kneeling empire; before him was the dragon throne he hadn't seen for months. He had completely shed the naivety of the 'commoner emperor' of three years ago. 'Chang Hui, bring those things up.' Liu Bingyi turned and sat on the dragon throne, his voice echoing throughout the hall.
A moment later, a dozen Imperial Guards entered the hall carrying several heavy iron chests. The chests were opened to reveal not gold, silver or jewels, but dozens of blood-soaked parchment scrolls and gold seals from the northern border. Each scroll bore the title of a Xiongnu tribal leader. 'These are the blood-written surrender letters of the eighteen Xiongnu tribal leaders, along with the wolf-headed gold seals used in sacrificial rites to heaven.' Liu Bingyi casually picked up a gold seal and slammed it onto the hall floor with a resounding crash. 'I have brought back not only land, but also the backbone of the Xiongnu people. From this day forward, wherever the edicts of the Great Han reach, the colour of the mountains and rivers will change, and the sun and moon will shift their positions. I will ensure that the term 'enemy state' ceases to exist!" The entire court, both civil and military officials, bowed in unison; this time, none dared to look directly at the white-haired dragon.
As night fell, the clamour subsided and Liu Bingyi was left alone in the empty Xuan Shi Hall. He lightly tapped the air with his fingertip and a holographic sand table appeared, displaying a partial view of Chang'an.
A pale purple screen unfolded, displaying a 1:1 scale model of Chang'an suspended in mid-air. Green dots represented compliant citizens, while flashing red dots represented remnants, corrupt officials and enemy agents under surveillance by the 'Azure Eagle Division'.
Liu Bingyi moved the screen slightly, revealing a secluded manor in the western suburbs. Several powerful figures formerly belonging to the Huo family were plotting their escape from Chang'an following their triumphant return. Liu Bingyi sneered. 'Can they escape?' He traced a red dot with his finger. 'Order issued: The Azure Eagle Division is to carry out the clean-up.' Almost simultaneously, the red dots on the holographic sand table gradually dimmed, eventually turning a deadly grey. Under the crushing weight of this 'God's' perspective, all the power struggles and intrigues seemed laughably insignificant.
This was the true fruit of victory — Liu Bingyi had not only won the Battle of Mobei, but also acquired a scalpel capable of surgically removing the empire's malignant tumours at any time. However, when he turned the perspective of the sand table towards Duling — Xu Pingjun's resting place — a purple mist appeared on the table that the system could not analyse.
[Warning: Abnormal magnetic field detected at Duling; soul resonance value has reached 85%.
System prompt: 'All prerequisites for the resurrection ritual have been met. Activate 'Defying Heaven' mode?" Liu Bingyi stared at the purple mist. The chilling aura in his eyes, capable of shaking the world, instantly melted away and was replaced by an intense, maddening burning sensation capable of consuming the soul. 'I have waited far too long for this moment.' He slowly stood up and walked towards the dark chamber behind the main hall. There, the Divine Essence Crystal emitted a faint purple light, as if calling out to the soul that had been absent for three years.
The lights in the Xuan Shi Hall burned brightly, but Liu Bingyi did not order the officials to kneel outside until dawn. When they were permitted to rise and enter the hall, they noticed a row of seats beneath the dragon throne that they had never seen before—seats prepared for Wang Changqing, Guo Zidi and the core members of the 'Azure Eagle Division'.
'My beloved ministers,' said Liu Bingyi, leaning back on the dragon throne with his white hair cascading down the armrests. 'While I was away on campaign, the affairs of the court relied heavily on your efforts. 'But upon returning to court, I found that the Han Dynasty is short of officials, especially those who dare to speak the truth and act ruthlessly.' His gaze fell on Wang Changqing. At that moment, Wang Changqing was wearing a dark black imperial robe reserved for supervising envoys. Although his roguish air remained, the ruthlessness in his eyes, honed by a murderous aura, made the old minister Zhang Anshi hesitate to meet his gaze. 'Issue my imperial edict.' Liu Bingyi's voice echoed in the hall. 'The Azure Eagle Bureau is hereby reorganised as the Imperial Guard of the Great Han Dynasty, reporting directly to the Emperor and beyond the control of the Three Dukes.' Wang Changqing is promoted to the rank of Garrison Commander and granted a gold medal. I grant you one power: wherever the red dot on the sand table points, you may execute first and report later — a privilege granted by imperial authority.' This decision shattered the civil officials' last illusions, meaning those cruel officials who had been street thugs would become the sword of Damocles hanging over all the powerful clans. Not only did Liu Bingyi want to become a war god, he also wanted to reshape the world's power structure according to his own will. After the officials had dispersed, only Liu Bingyi remained in the hall.
He waved his hand again and summoned his reward: the 'Western Regions Holographic Sand Table'. The miniature map on the sand table had now expanded to cover the entire territory of the Great Han Dynasty, from Chang'an City. He could see that the Han army was building permanent stone fortresses in the oases of the Western Regions and that new herders were being registered under the guidance of Han officials in the former territory of the Xiongnu. However, when he ran his finger across the deep, undeveloped forests of the southwest and the frigid lands further north in the Gobi Desert, the sand table's fog churned violently.
System 4.0 prompted: 'Warning! Unnatural energy fluctuations detected in the fog area.'
'Analysing... There are suspected traces of "other system holders" or "ancient forbidden spells" not belonging to this plane.' A purple light flashed in Liu Bingyi's double pupils. 'Other holders?' He sneered, tracing the unknown grey area with his fingertip. 'Since this world already belongs to Liu, only my voice can exist. Whether it's a god or a demon, as long as it's on my sand table, it will eventually become my destiny.' This reward, the 'real-time fog version', was not only a monitoring tool, but also a map of the hunting ground. It stirred the expansionist ambition that had been awakened in Liu Bingyi's heart through killing. However, he also knew that before he could declare war on the fog, he had to heal the deep wounds within his heart first. At midnight, Chang'an City fell into a deep slumber and Liu Bingyi left the Xuan Shi Hall. Rather than riding a horse, he used his masterful lightness skill, disappearing into the night as a blur. Moments later, he appeared at Duling, the mausoleum of Xu Pingjun. From the system's perspective, Duling was completely enveloped in an extremely dense cloud of purple liquid energy. This was because the immense national fortune brought by the people's worship when Liu Bingyi returned from his campaign had been forcibly diverted here.
[System 4.0: Resurrection progress: 92%][Key item: divine essence crystal (ready)]
[Host status: White Hair Burning Soul (Current vitality can last until the end of the ritual). Liu Bingyi walked to the stone tablet in front of the mausoleum. He could feel the ground beneath his feet trembling slightly — the sound of souls colliding with the barrier between yin and yang. 'Pingjun, can you hear that?' He slowly pressed the Divine Essence Crystal in his hand into the centre of the stone tablet. The entire crystal instantly erupted with light, obscuring the moonlight. Through the 'holographic sand table', he could see that the point of Duling was changing from green to pure gold, a symbol of divine miracles. 'Tomorrow, I will let the people of Chang'an witness a true miracle.' He sat beside the stone tablet, his white hair spread out on the ground as though guarding a rare flower about to bloom. This was his first night back at court. Instead of sleeping in the magnificent palace, he slept beside this cold, impersonal mausoleum. Only here did he feel that he was no longer the solitary war god, but rather the gentle youth who had just emerged from the bustling streets of Duling, covered in mud yet still tender-hearted. Just as Liu Bingyi closed his eyes in meditation, a blood-red lightning bolt suddenly appeared in the once clear night sky. [System Red Alert: Host, please note! Reversing life and death is a 'world-destroying' violation, triggering a 'Heavenly Tribulation of Karma'!" 'The tribulation lightning will descend tomorrow morning when the resurrection ceremony officially begins, affecting the entire city of Chang'an.' Liu Bingyi opened his eyes, his double pupils not filled with fear, but with an arrogance capable of slaying gods. 'The Heavenly Dao?' He drew his old sword, pointing the tip at the gradually dissipating crimson lightning. His tone was calm yet resounding: 'I have slaughtered the Xiongnu, burned the sacred mountain, and won. Drawing his old sword, he pointed the tip at the gradually dissipating crimson lightning. His tone was calm yet resounding: 'I have slaughtered the Xiongnu, burned the sacred mountain and won the hearts of all the people under heaven. If the Heavenly tries to stop me, I will shatter the heavens themselves!" The wind swirled the fallen leaves of Duling and, at that moment, the entire city of Chang'an was overcome with an inexplicable sense of oppression. Everyone knew that when the sun rose the next day, the Han Empire would be facing an unprecedented upheaval.