Chapter Eighteen: The Emperor of Qin

In front of the square stretched a flight of steps, more than a thousand in total, all paved with white jade bricks, their surfaces carved with golden cloud patterns that seemed naturally formed. Ascending the steps led directly to the Hall of Great Benevolence—the main hall—its blue bricks and glazed tiles shining with radiant splendor, the purple-gold dragon columns exuding an awe-inspiring majesty. At each corner of the upturned eaves perched a jade statue of a mythical beast, lending the hall an overwhelmingly grand aura.

On the square, Zhou Tian cast a sidelong glance at Zhou Yi, thinking, “So this is the Prince of Qin—no grandeur at all! Look at their carriages, and then look at yours... shameful!” Zhou Yi, reading perfectly the meaning in Zhou Tian’s eyes, could only think, “What can I do? He is the Emperor of Qin; I am but a mere prince.”

The eunuch leading the way, oblivious to the silent exchange between father and son, waited until they had all alighted from their carriages, then bowed slightly and led them onward in silence. Following this elderly eunuch, they entered the inner palace via a path on the left side of the steps.

Once inside, Zhou Tian found himself as wide-eyed as a country woman entering a grand estate for the first time, glancing left and right, clearly noticing that the maids here were of a distinctly higher caliber than those in the Prince of Qin’s household.

The inner palace was a maze of nearly identical corridors—without the eunuch’s guidance, Zhou Tian would have soon lost his way. Tian Ling, for her part, was more reserved, trailing behind Zhou Tian with careful steps. She knew very well why she was to marry him: the Emperor of Qin was the ruler of this empire, and to him, wiping out the Haotian Sect would be no harder than turning over his hand. She was about to meet him, and her heart was pounding with anxiety.

They turned this way and that, finally arriving at the so-called Hall of Nurtured Heart. Compared to the opulent Hall of Great Benevolence outside, this place was much more understated, appearing to be an ordinary palace hall.

The elderly eunuch stopped before the doors, bowed, and said, “His Majesty has instructed that Your Highness the Prince of Qin may go in directly. This old servant need not announce you.”

“Very well,” Zhou Yi nodded, glancing back at Zhou Tian. “Come, let’s go in together.”

“Understood!” replied Zhou Tian, feeling no great pressure. Partly it was because of the close family ties, and partly because Zhou Tian, after all, had his own advantages—he knew what to expect.

Observing Tian Ling’s anxious expression, Zhou Tian could guess what was troubling her. He reached out and took her hand—it was cold—and smiled gently, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Mm,” Tian Ling replied, gazing at Zhou Tian’s smile. Her racing heart gradually calmed, a sense of reassurance settling within her.

Zhou Yi shook his head helplessly, then stepped up the stairs, pushed open the doors, and entered the hall. Zhou Tian, hand in hand with Tian Ling, followed close behind.

The Hall of Nurtured Heart resembled a study, filled with many racks—though not of books, but of jade tablets, each glowing faintly with golden light.

At the desk sat a middle-aged man of imposing presence, garbed in a golden dragon-embroidered robe. In his left hand he held a golden jade tablet, runes swirling around it. His eyes were closed, and his right hand tapped the desk in a mysterious rhythm.

At the sound of movement, the man opened his eyes—that gaze, as if the sun, moon, and stars revolved within. For a fleeting moment, Zhou Tian seemed to see the ancient forebears carrying mountains and driving forth the land, cultivating the very earth with blades, sowing seeds as large as heads, golden dragon-shaped phantasms coiling about—a vision of an era where humanity flourished in glory!

A cough, deep as a great bell, resounded as if from beyond the heavens, shattering the illusion. Zhou Tian found himself back in the hall, dazed and bewildered. He glanced at Tian Ling beside him and saw the same bewildered look—she, too, must have witnessed the vision.

“I failed to restrain myself just now and drew you into my Dao. You have not yet formed your own path; to become too immersed would not be good,” the middle-aged man said in a deep, resonant voice. With a flick of his finger, the golden jade tablet flew to a rack in the hall. He then looked toward Zhou Yi and, with a hearty laugh, said, “Second Brother, what took you so long?”

Zhou Yi’s face was solemn as he bowed low and intoned, “Your servant pays homage to Your Majesty!”

This middle-aged man was none other than the current Emperor of the Great Qin Empire—the Emperor himself.

Seeing Zhou Yi’s formality, the Emperor sighed, “Enough, enough, drop the act. About that incident the other day—it’s not that I didn’t speak up for you, but who told you to sneak a drink of the imperial brew, get drunk, and cause a scene? You even smashed a corner off the imperial throne! The impeachment memorials from the censors are piling up like mountains. If I defend you, the censors will only escalate their protests. It’s a headache for me too…”

Zhou Yi, his expression easing, complained, “Let the censors go to hell! They’ve been such a nuisance lately. As if I don’t know the rules—but I was drunk! How can that be blamed on me?”

Zhou Tian, listening on the side, was dumbfounded. No wonder Zhou Yi had been so irritable lately—turns out he’d suffered a reprimand outside. Breaking the imperial throne? That’s quite a feat!

Then Zhou Yi said, “It’s all because of this rascal here today—slept like a dead pig and delayed us for ages!”

The Emperor turned his gaze toward Zhou Tian. Zhou Tian cupped his hands, “I greet—” but before he could finish, a gentle force lifted him up, and the Emperor said,

“We’re all family here. Just call me Uncle, no need for all the formalities. It’s been a while since I last saw you—yesterday Chuan’er told me he ran into you at the arena.”

“I took Ling’er to the arena yesterday for a look and happened to run into Third Brother,” Zhou Tian replied.

“Chuan’er came home yesterday and boasted about it for ages. A genius with triple divine talents is rare indeed,” the Emperor remarked. A prodigy the outside world might see only once in many years was, to the Emperor, merely “rare.”

He then turned to Tian Ling. “You must be Tian Ling.”

“Yes…” Tian Ling replied, trembling with nerves.

The Emperor smiled kindly, “There’s no need to be nervous. We’re about to become one family—don’t overthink it!”

“Mm,” Tian Ling nodded, her anxiety lessening considerably.

Seeing her unease, the Emperor said no more—time would help her adjust. He then turned to Zhou Yi, “Second Brother, I’ve called you here today for two things. First, to draft the imperial edict formally bestowing the marriage. Second, that matter you asked of me—I’ve taken care of it. The Lord of Qiguo from Xiezhou delivered the item today.”

Reaching into the void, the Emperor withdrew a vial—a slender tube of violet, sparkling with crystalline light, as if a galaxy flowed within, exquisite and translucent. He tossed it lightly to Zhou Yi and continued, “Tian’er’s physique is unique—completely insulated from spiritual energy, unable to use it to strengthen his body. I pondered long and hard and only the peculiar path of Qiguo seemed to offer a solution. According to them…”

“This was developed using a newly discovered technology—what do they call it… gene… genetic technology? Quite a mouthful. It’s said to probe the deepest secrets of man and has nothing to do with spiritual energy.”

What the—?

Zhou Tian was utterly bewildered. Genetic technology? This is outrageous—wasn’t this an ancient society? How did genetic technology make its way here!