novelraw Chapter 93 : The True Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist, the Reincarnator of Eternal Life
Chapter 93 : The True Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist, the Reincarnator of Eternal Life
Chapter 93: The True Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist, the Reincarnator of Eternal Life
Shen Yanzhou rubbed his neck, knowing those marks were definitely left by Ran Yi last night.
However, he had no intention of explaining.
“When does Mother plan to enter the palace?” he asked.
Yu Chenyu withdrew her gaze from his neck, gave a cold snort, then said calmly, “Naturally, once your father finishes making the arrangements.”
“May this child accompany you to dine in the palace?”
Shen Yanzhou asked with a smile.
“That depends on your father’s will.”
Yu Chenyu seemed to know what Shen Yanzhou was thinking; her tone remained indifferent.
“Then it seems there’s no hope. I had wanted to personally meet His Majesty. After living in the imperial capital for so many years, I’ve yet to see the Emperor’s face even once.” Shen Yanzhou sighed deliberately.
Yu Chenyu stared at him, feeling that Shen Yanzhou wasn’t saying those words merely to provoke her.
Was he trying to probe something?
“His Majesty has long secluded himself in the Hall of Cultivated Mind. Even the high ministers of the court rarely get an audience with him. Best you not think about it for now.”
“Behave yourself. Once Lord Wei reports to the throne, perhaps someday you’ll be summoned.” Yu Chenyu said casually.
Shen Yanzhou couldn’t discern Yu Chenyu’s current thoughts. He had merely asked in passing to test the waters and did not press further on the matter.
After breakfast,
Shen Yanzhou first contacted Fu Yuying to inquire about the recent situation in the Southern Border. He learned that Shen Jingxiao had indeed restrained himself somewhat but still showed no sign of retreating his troops, which made Shen Yanzhou sigh softly.
After suffering a major loss, Shen Jingxiao was clearly on guard now.
Then, Shen Yanzhou inquired about the whereabouts of Shen Tian’s human puppet and learned that in about five days, the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion would likely be holding a welcoming ceremony for the True Heir.
By then, the imperial capital would surely be lively.
Shen Yanzhou began to look forward to Shen Tian’s puppet entering the capital — by that time, he would surely be able to harvest quite a lot of negative emotions again.
At the moment, Shen Jingxiao was ignoring him, which naturally meant his emotions couldn’t be influenced.
Shen Tian’s awakened soul was far away at the Ten-Thousand-Mile Sword Court of the North Sea, showing no reaction either.
Even the few Clan Elders in the mansion now avoided him whenever they saw him, making it increasingly difficult for Shen Yanzhou to “shear the wool.”
If he couldn’t find new “leeks” to harvest, there would be little negative emotion to collect.
He couldn’t possibly risk offending the many nobles of the imperial capital by making a ruckus at their gates — that would be sheer lunacy.
After thinking it over, Shen Yanzhou decided to visit the Dragon-Tiger Institute.
Though those little “leeks” didn’t yield much, their sheer numbers could still accumulate into a decent harvest of negative emotions.
Moreover, among them was Qi Haoran — one of the so-called “protagonist party” members.
“Speaking of which, around this time in the story, the true protagonist occupying most of the narrative space should finally make his appearance.”
“However, that Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist and I are worlds apart, with no intersection or entanglement whatsoever.”
“From a standpoint perspective, we can’t even be called enemies. There’s no need to get involved in his karma.”
Shen Yanzhou still remembered much of the original novel’s plot.
The “True Heir Arc” could only be considered a relatively important segment within the grand tapestry of imperial intrigue — and the protagonist of this arc was Shen Tian, the True Heir.
But in the sprawling, intricate narrative of the original story, Shen Tian’s screen time was actually rather short.
The novel was an ensemble tale, and the true Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist was more of an immortal wanderer — a witness traveling through the ages, experiencing everything firsthand as an observer.
In a sense, that Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist’s state of mind was not easily disturbed.
In the original plot, this Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist had been a simple herbal-picking farm boy in his youth. After accidentally consuming a mysterious fruit, his soul became indestructible. He was forced to enter the mortal world, endure nine tribulations, and shatter the seal of reincarnation before he could truly be free.
His existence was profoundly mysterious — once transforming into a plain, unremarkable stone atop a mountain peak, bathing in the essence of sun and moon, witnessing beasts taking human form and countless celestial phenomena.
He had also become a withered pine on a cliff, split by lightning, later picked up by a cultivator and refined into a flying sword that followed him in conquest across the realms.
He had even turned into a divine herb deep in the Great Wilderness, witnessing a white-robed maiden grow old in solitude and finally pass away amidst the mortal dust.
……
Too many, far too many.
He had seen and heard all that the mortal world had to offer, witnessed countless extraordinary individuals, and knew secrets unknown to others.
And now, in this life, it was to be his final reincarnation.
He awoke upon the lands of the Nine Provinces, becoming the feeble adopted son of the King of An’nan of the small vassal state of Jiang — under the Great Qian Dynasty. On the night of his wedding, the Jiang Princess faked her death to escape the marriage, disguised herself as a man, and traveled to Great Qian to pursue her studies…
Thus, this Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist descended into the mortal realm, embarking on the final cycle of his eternal reincarnation.
Shen Yanzhou shook his head, returning to his senses.
A true Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist was called such because he possessed innate gifts and blessings that even fortune’s chosen sons like Shen Tian lacked — immortal through reincarnation, with an undispersing true spirit. Even a Martial God like Lin Qingcang coveted such an ability.
“Well, in any case, that has nothing to do with me. No matter how powerful that Heaven’s Mandated Protagonist is, he won’t affect me in the slightest.”
Shen Yanzhou quickly set the thought aside.
From another perspective, wasn’t he also a kind of protagonist himself?
He knew the plot, seized every advantage ahead of time, and had a panel that allowed him to allocate points at will — mastering any technique or martial art instantly.
……
Inside the study of the Demon Suppression King.
Shen Jingxiao stood before a bronze mirror, adjusting his robe. His robe of dragons and cranes was dominated by red and yellow hues, embroidered with immortal cranes, mountains, and purple cloud patterns — a royal robe personally bestowed by Emperor Mingde. Its rank surpassed even that of the princes’ python-patterned robes, exuding unmistakable prestige.
“Still haven’t succeeded?” he asked faintly, his gaze deep.
Ran Yi, cloaked and hooded, stood in the shadowed corner behind him. Beside her were Kui and Jiao, two of the Four Fiends.
“Not yet. The Heir is cautious,” Ran Yi replied softly, her head lowered.
“Heh, clever fellow. You’ll need to put in more effort. I don’t wish to waste any more time on that unfilial son.” Shen Jingxiao seemed unsurprised.
If Shen Yanzhou were so easily deceived, he could never have hidden beneath his very nose for so many years.
He was an exceedingly shrewd and cunning man.
“The Heir won’t fall for it. He clearly knows something is off about me.” Ran Yi’s voice remained low.
Shen Jingxiao waved his hand lightly. “So what if he knows? It’s an open card. Since ancient times, heroes have always fallen before beauty. I’m giving him a chance to save you—how could he possibly refuse it?”
Ran Yi lowered her head without saying a word.
“One month. I’ll give you only one month. If there’s still no progress or results—”
“Then you’ll personally make a trip to the Ancient Sect of Qingqiu. After all these years, it’s about time you repaid me with something.” Shen Jingxiao’s tone was calm.
Ran Yi’s face seemed to turn slightly pale.
A moment later, she clenched her robe tightly and whispered, “Yes.”
In the shadows, Kui and Jiao appeared utterly accustomed to this exchange, showing no surprise at all.
The Ancient Sect of Qingqiu — that was its “official” name in recent years. Many years ago, it had been known as the Thirty-Six Demon Caverns of Qingqiu.
Its power was vast, its roots deep, to the point that even the leaders of the Daoist path, such as the Three Pure Immortal Sects, were wary of it.
However, unlike the Nether Cult, which brought turmoil to the court and endangered the state, the Ancient Sect of Qingqiu was located north of the Nine Provinces, deep in the mountains bordering Beiyu. It rarely interfered in the struggles of dynastic change.
Only occasionally did a few disciples cause disturbances, but those were mostly factional disputes related to rivalries with Daoist lineages.
In recent years, the Demon Suppression King had been in contact with various sect forces that had yet to submit to the imperial court. Among them, the largest was none other than the Ancient Sect of Qingqiu.
“It’s time to leave.”
“His Majesty has invited us to a banquet — we mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Shen Jingxiao withdrew his gaze from the bronze mirror, straightened his crown, and then pushed open the door to leave.
The others followed one after another.
……
“Shen Yanzhou, give me back my brother’s life!”
At the Dragon-Tiger Institute, before the Martial Academy’s Reflection Stele, Shen Yanzhou had just arrived when he heard a student’s voice — full of righteous fury — echoing in the air. The next moment, a gust of fist wind surged toward him from behind.
His expression remained calm. Without turning his head, he casually kicked backward.
With a loud bang, the student — whose face Shen Yanzhou hadn’t even seen clearly — screamed as he was sent flying like a ragged sack, hitting the ground and clutching his abdomen, his face pale as paper, unable to stand for a long while.
“Idiot.”
“You should be grateful I didn’t kick you to death.”
Shen Yanzhou shook his head slightly, glanced at the surrounding students who were either meditating before the Reflection Stele or contemplating in silence, then looked at those startled by the commotion and staring his way. His expression remained calm as he picked a spot and sat down.
Instantly, he became the center of a vacant circle — a natural crowd repellent.
The surrounding area was now empty; everyone had retreated far away from him.
He had noticed the odd atmosphere the moment he arrived at the Dragon-Tiger Institute.
Many students looked at him with strange, wary gazes. Some pointed fingers and quickly dragged their companions away to keep their distance.
Thanks to his current martial cultivation and tempered physique, Shen Yanzhou’s hearing far surpassed that of ordinary people — allowing him to catch their whispered conversations clearly.
It seemed he was being treated as the true culprit behind the deaths of three students from the Martial Academy.
As for when this rumor had begun or how it spread so wildly, he had no idea.
At present, many at the Dragon-Tiger Institute were claiming that his inexplicable martial cultivation and terrifying physical strength came from secretly cultivating a forbidden technique banned in the Great Qian Dynasty — the Northern Sea Heaven-Transforming Human Pill Grand Art.
Those three dead Martial Academy students, they said, had been secretly murdered by him.
There was no proof — no witness, no evidence — yet many believed it wholeheartedly.
Especially the many Martial Academy prodigies who had trained their bodies from childhood, swallowing countless pills and heavenly treasures through years of arduous effort.
For them, such an unnatural phenomenon could only be explained by one thing — Shen Yanzhou must have relied on some forbidden art.
They knew better than anyone how excruciatingly difficult martial cultivation was.
Shen Yanzhou had once been a useless wastrel — a second-generation dandy who either frequented brothels, drank with courtesans, or harassed noblewomen, and if not, was on his way to do so.
They themselves had lived with utmost restraint, guarding their purity for fear of losing even a trace of their essence and slowing their progress. They had endured such hardship for years — so why should Shen Yanzhou suddenly become a sixth-rank martial cultivator like them?
Clearly, something was wrong. His cultivation couldn’t have come from honest, diligent effort.
To such thoughts, Shen Yanzhou had only one response — you’re absolutely right.
His cultivation really had come about exactly that way.
Originally, he had no intention of behaving quietly at the Dragon-Tiger Institute.
Now that someone had deliberately smeared his name and stirred trouble, it conveniently gave him a perfect chance to harvest more negative emotions.
“Shen Yanzhou, we’re all Martial Academy students and classmates — must you be so ruthless?”
Shen Yanzhou had barely sat down, his seat still warm, when a mocking voice came from nearby.
“Oh, it’s you, Liu Zi’an?”
He turned and recognized the brocade-robed young man — the young master of the Duke’s Mansion, Liu Zi’an, and a close friend of Qi Haoran.
At this moment, Qi Haoran wasn’t with him. Instead, several other Martial Academy students stood at his side — all young, elegantly dressed, and noble in bearing.
Shen Yanzhou found their faces familiar; he knew they were sons of prominent families in the capital, though he couldn’t recall their names.
In the past, he hadn’t moved in their circles — and certainly didn’t now.
The student he had just kicked earlier, upon seeing these people, immediately put on the look of a servant meeting his masters — both indignant and sycophantic. Ignoring his pain, he scrambled to his feet, clearly afraid of embarrassing them.
“Shen Yanzhou, the Martial Academy is not a place for your mischief,” Liu Zi’an said, frowning.
He still struggled to accept the reality before him — the once spineless wastrel who used to wet his pants at the slightest threat now stood at the same martial rank as himself?
And worse — possessed an unnatural, monstrous strength?
Did that mean all his years of hard work and suffering were nothing but a joke?
“Was I being reckless?” Shen Yanzhou asked with a smile.
Liu Zi’an retorted coldly, “You don’t think so? Why don’t you see for yourself what your kick just did to that man? The Martial Academy has rules — if there’s conflict between students, they’re to seek mediation from the Elders. Private fighting is forbidden. If you must fight, do it on the Martial Platform. You’ve blatantly broken the rules — just wait for the Elders’ punishment.”
Ah, so this was an ambush waiting for him.
Shen Yanzhou hadn’t known of such a rule — though even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.
“So what?” he said, still smiling.
“You—!” Liu Zi’an’s expression darkened with anger.
Before he could say more, a tall, handsome young man beside him raised a hand to stop him. His tone was casual, but carried a condescending edge: “Brother Zi’an, there’s no point wasting words with this wastrel. Relying on brute strength without knowing how to wield it — one day, it will rebound upon him.”
“Reason and rules mean nothing to someone who’s barely read a few lines of the sages’ classics. He wouldn’t understand even if you explained.”
This young man exuded an extraordinary presence. His brocade robe was embroidered with dark avian patterns, and faint divine light flickered in his eyes — clearly, he had cultivated not only martial arts but Daoist techniques as well.
Liu Zi’an treated him with noticeable respect and courtesy.
This young man was named Cui Ruifeng, a relative of the Empress, from the Cui Clan of Hejian — true imperial kin.
The Empress’s beloved nephew, whose elder cousin in the same bloodline shared a close bond with him.
At the Martial Academy, Cui Ruifeng was well known — a brilliant prodigy with many followers.
“Brother Ruifeng is right. There’s no need to waste breath on this wastrel.”
“Once the Chilin Guards complete their investigation and gather the evidence, this fellow won’t dare act so arrogantly again.” Liu Zi’an nodded, firmly believing that Shen Yanzhou had indeed been cultivating a forbidden art.