My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 539 – The Human Emperor and Li Yuan - Part 3

Mid-winter arrived, with snow blanketing the land.

Gu Xuejian sat in the snow, hair disheveled, hunched in the corner of a tent.

Three months ago, she had been the leader of the Holy Tree Temple. Now, she was a fugitive.

The Son of Heaven would not forgive her. And he had made it clear that he would not offer her a second chance. There was only one, and she had squandered it.

She gasped for breath, chest rising and falling, staring blankly at the snow outside.

There was no way forward. No way back.

The heavens were shut. The earth offered no refuge.

The only flicker of safety she could cling to was the growing number of powerful martial artists gathering in the snow around her.

The Mystic Gold Monastery, Moon Reflection Tower, Buddhists, Daoists, various martial clans, and wandering martial artists...dozens of forces, large and small, had come to camp.

All of them were fleeing from the same thing. All were trying to survive the wrath of a boy who now ruled like a god.

Each time a new faction arrived, the fear surrounding the Son of Heaven only deepened.

It had become clear that this Emperor wasn’t just conquering territory. He was rewriting the very fabric of the world.

All the old powers were crumbling. A new order was rising in their place. Yet standing in his path was one last formidable force.

That was the Bladeseekers and Court of Judges.

The Bladeseekers alone boasted tens of thousands of fifth and sixth rank martial artists. Add to that the vast, enigmatic strength of the Court of Judges, and one had a force once capable of overturning the entire world.

But that was simply the past. Now, no one believed the Bladeseekers could stand against the Emperor.

“Just hand over the legacies,” Li Yuan said, without the slightest hesitation, once he heard the news. He turned to Sheng’er. “Register everyone. Fold them into the imperial ranks. Obey the court's commands.”

The unification of the land was inevitable. That was simply the tide of history.

The Bladeseekers had once been his garden of talent to harvest, and so it would remain.

Sheng’er in her crow form nodded in silent agreement.

It all came sooner than expected.

After crushing the twin-headed wolf riders, the young Emperor had fully realized the extent of his own power.

He was unmatched on this land. Unstoppable.

And with such strength, what was there to fear?

The powerful cultivators who had fled south, seeking shelter in Gemhill County under the Bladeseeker’s wing, now had no choice but to keep running, further and further south into the Sunset Rainforest, a region overrun with powerful demonic beasts.

But even that seemed safer than facing the Emperor.

On this day, Gemhill County lit up with lanterns and red banners, preparing to receive the sovereign who now ruled the realm.

With Lady Divine Crow’s blessing, both the Bladeseekers and the Court of Judges made ready to welcome the Emperor who stood above all others.

Ji Hu descended through the sky, clad in his nine-dragon imperial robe, floating effortlessly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

No one could tell what he was thinking.

Behind him, the Flying Bear Army had become something else entirely, no longer elite soldiers, but elite bureaucrats. Their task now was simple: receive reports, manage integration, process legacies.

Cultivation manuals would be sent to the Jade Capital for classification.

Martial artists would be registered and assigned accordingly.

Many among the Flying Bear Army couldn’t hide their excitement as they caught sight of Gemhill County, a place that had become a living legend in the south.

But as they looked closer, at the thousands of disciples from the Bladeseekers and the grim figures from the Court of Judges, their expressions turned to awe.

This wasn’t the same Flying Bear Army from Lu Xuanxian’s era. The soldiers were new. But the structure and spirit remained. They knew well the origin of the ghost cavalry.

Three thousand disciples from the Bladeseekers, transformed into a shadowy force of assassins and enforcers.

And now, standing before them, were not three thousand...but tens of thousands of high ranked Bladeseekers disciples.

Given time, that number would only grow.

The sheer power gathered here might someday rival, or even surpass, the invading Khagan. And that wasn’t even counting the Court of Judges, with its eerie methods and terrifying secrecy.

And yet...they had submitted willingly and without a fight.

This was the terror of the Son of Heaven. Unparalleled under the sky, his might already surpassed every emperor in recorded history.

He was no longer merely the ruler of a dynasty. He was the Human Emperor, a sovereign above sovereigns.

No one knew exactly when the title of Human Emperor began circulating, but it had spread far and wide. And more and more people began to believe it, deeply and sincerely.

Yet just as everyone assumed today was nothing more than a symbolic ceremony of submission, the young Emperor, still soaring through the sky, suddenly stopped mid-air.

He Si, flying at his side, immediately grew alert, scanning the surroundings with sharp eyes. But she sensed no danger.

“Your Majesty?” she asked softly. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The Emperor waved her off. “Go handle the formalities. I have...other matters to attend to.”

He Si was left momentarily stunned. But she bowed respectfully and gave no further questions.

The next moment, the Emperor vanished.

He reappeared far away, inside a secluded pavilion with few people around.

The instant he arrived, reality around the pavilion twisted slightly. To any outsider looking on, nothing would seem amiss. Just an empty, peaceful structure.

But the pavilion wasn’t empty.

Inside sat a woman, elegant and composed, sipping tea with perfect grace.

The Emperor’s voice trembled.

“Mother...?”

Xie Wei looked up at him and simply smiled.

“Mother!”

He stepped forward, faster now.

The same young Emperor who had crushed Naran, who swept across the Nine Provinces like a storm, who now marched with his Flying Bear Army to subdue every major sect in the realm—this same man suddenly dropped all the poise and steadiness he had carried on his back for so long.

He drew a long breath, then asked abruptly, “Where is Father?”

Xie Wei didn’t answer right away. She only gestured to the tea before her and said, “Come. Sit. Have some tea.”

So, Ji Hu sat. Mother and son drank tea together in silence.

Long minutes passed.

Then the Emperor suddenly murmured, “Lady White Plum...”

Xie Wei gently replied, “So His Majesty heard?”

How could he not? His senses, attuned now to the pulse of the land itself, could capture nearly everything spoken or whispered across the empire.

“Yes,” Ji Hu said. “I heard. All the others have been registered, submitted their names, passed under the seal, except her. And to me, Lady White Plum had no reason to resist. Not unless...”

He stopped. His eyes lowered. “Not unless her appearance...coincided too conveniently with the fire at the Jade Heart Pool.”

Xie Wei let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she said quietly. “But yes, I am Lady White Plum.”

Ji Hu’s voice dropped. “You...married Li Yuan?”

Xie Wei pressed down her nerves, answering with a calm that took effort, “The rest of my life is still long. I needed...someone to share it with.”

Silence followed.

Ji Hu said nothing. He still remembered his fury when he had first drawn his sword and stepped into the ruins of the Jade Heart Pool.

But he was no longer the same man.

He had waded through blood, endured storms, and pored over every detail of his father’s death, the assassinations, the lies, and the secrets that came before.

His mother’s anxiety was subtle, very subtle... But to him, it was clear as day.

And in that moment...something inside him shifted.

He looked up at her, truly looked, and didn’t ask why she had survived. Nor did he ask again about Li Yuan.

Instead, he said gently, “Have you...been well here, these past days?”

Xie Wei exhaled quietly, almost with relief. “It’s been good. Peaceful. But in the end, the burden still fell to you. And you’ve grown into something I never imagined. You’ve become a god upon this land. The Emperor of All Humanity.”

Ji Hu wanted to speak but held his words in the end. His mother’s gaze, her gentle praise...none of it filled him with pride. Instead, it only deepened the distance he felt between them.

A sudden wave of loneliness washed over him, vast and cold.

No one knew what he truly carried on his shoulders.

The moment he unified the Nine Provinces and drove back the Khagan, something within him had shifted. He had caught a glimpse of the future.

And within the Dragon Vein’s legacy, fragments of that future lingered, subtle, fractured...but unmistakable.

Those fragments told him his fate might not be as dazzling or triumphant as others believed.

Suddenly, memories flooded his mind.

Years ago, when he was still a child, unwanted and mocked, Ji Hu remembered every voice, every sneer, every whisper.

"Ugly boy. So ugly."

Even those who came close to him did so with stiff smiles, false warmth, cold eyes.

Only one person had ever truly seen him. Only one person had offered him real kindness.

In the darkest days of his childhood, that person had left him a single word of encouragement, one that had carried him through the fire and into this moment.

He thought of that day in the chaos of the Dragon Cry Hall, cornered by the last Emperor of the Xia Dynasty.

“Teacher...was the kite real?”

“Yes. It was real.”

A smile slowly crept onto the Emperor’s face. Though his features remained plain, even harsh, there was a softness at the corners of his mouth, and a gentle warmth flickering in his eyes.

Xie Wei noticed. Pretending to be casual, she asked, “Your Majesty, did something just make you happy?”

“If my mother is happy, then let me treat this meeting as if it never happened,” Ji Hu replied. He bowed his head in quiet thought, then suddenly said, “The southern powers, I won’t take them.”

He rose before she could respond, and offered her a deep, solemn bow.

Then, without another word, he turned and vanished.

The Emperor’s word was law.

He had spoken that he would not take the south.

And just like that, the Bladeseekers and Court of Judges, once trembling in fear, received an unthinkable pardon.

No one could believe it.

This was the moment the Emperor should not have backed down. He had every advantage, all the momentum. And yet, he had chosen to stop.

But his power, his prestige, were beyond question.

If the Emperor had made up his mind, who could possibly challenge him...?

The Flying Bear Army quietly withdrew.

He Si, confused and wordless, followed suit.

Peace returned to Gemhill County.

And just like that, it became a haven again...for fugitives, for wandering sects, and for any who sought shelter in the turbulent world.

He Si could hold her tongue no longer. She finally asked, “Your Majesty...do you understand what it means to let the Bladeseekers go today, what the consequences—”

Before she could finish, the Emperor casually reached out and tilted her chin up.

His fingers were light, almost teasing. His gaze swept slowly over her, eyes calm and unreadable. Then, just as casually, he let go.

A flush crept up He Si’s cheeks. She said nothing more.

Silently, she hoisted the dragon standard again and followed behind him.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Winter melted.

Spring returned, and the first green buds pushed through the thawing earth.

By March, the first batches of Three Springs Brew began appearing in markets.

The people of Gemhill County, emboldened by the Emperor’s last visit, finally moved back home, every last family.

As for the Ghost Prison, it remained perfectly still, frozen in form.

Its shape had now solidified completely into a massive, ominous black egg, brooding silently beneath the surface of the world.

The ghost tides had come and gone the year before last.

But in a world so full of chaos, people were always forgetful. Always clinging to luck.

And their comfort, as ever, was found in drink.

Outside, the crowds were as noisy as ever. A line stretched far down the street in front of the Ginger Tavern, bustling with voices and footfall, the clamor of everyday life.

A man in embroidered robes, his face slightly ashen, arrived at the end of that line. He glanced up at the packed entrance, his expression stiff, then silently took his place in the queue.

Ginger Tavern’s business was as lively as always.

He stood in line, but his eyes betrayed something else, nervousness, unease, tightly veiled but quietly persistent.

After nearly half an hour, his turn finally came. He stepped inside.

A waiter greeted him with a grin.

“First time here, sir? You look new. Well, today’s your lucky day. We just restocked our Three Springs Brew. Shall I bring you a pot?”

The man said nothing. He scanned the room, eyes searching.

The waiter caught the signal.

“Ah, no problem, sir. Just have a seat. We’re packed today, but there’s an open spot over here—”

He darted off, wiped down a table, then looked to the man already seated there.

“Sir, we’re quite full, would you mind sharing?”

The man at the table looked utterly ordinary. Unremarkable.

He nodded gently.

The waiter turned back to the man in embroidered robes. He nodded too.

Relieved, the waiter exhaled. “Great. Now then, sir, shall I bring—”

The man in robes raised his hand.

The waiter fell silent. Something in that small motion struck him like thunder, a pressure vast and cold like a mountain crashing from the sky.

It wasn’t just fear, it was reverence.

He didn’t dare breathe.

“Same as him,” the man said quietly, motioning to the one across the table.

“Yes... yes, sir,” the waiter stammered and hurried off like his life depended on it.

Soon, he returned with a pot of Springdream Brew, a rare and limited vintage.

He watched as the two men silently downed the entire pot.

Then they asked for six more jars.

The waiter scoffed inwardly. Surely this was a bluff. He was just about to refuse. But before he could speak, the shopkeeper himself stepped in, personally delivering all six jars to the table.

No one questioned it.

The two men drank wordlessly, three jars each on the left and right.

Then, the plain-faced man stood, tossed a few coins onto the table, and left without a word.

The man in embroidered robes let out a long breath, then tilted his head back and smiled, bitterly, mockingly, at himself.

But suddenly, his expression changed.

He felt...something.

He looked down sharply and saw that the spilled wine on the table was moving.

On the left, it pooled into a single phrase.

“Strive without ceasing...”

And on the right, following it was—

“Carry all things with great virtue.”

“Strive unceasingly,” the man whispered. “Carry all things...”

He stared at those words for a long, long time. Then slowly, he closed his eyes. Hot tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

For a moment, just one moment, the heart that had been crushed and hollowed by years of pain, isolation, and endless war...was finally at peace.