The Demon Lords

Chapter 523 35 Holy Body Safe_1

Zheng Fan only woke up in the afternoon. As he walked out of the room, his face was pale and covered in cold sweat, and his steps were unsteady. Despite being a newly promoted Seventh Rank Martial Cultivator, he seemed to have had his strength sucked out overnight. Behind him stood a somewhat aggrieved Siniang, because she was not the one who had drained him.

The long dream overnight had truly exhausted him. After washing up and eating something casually, Zheng Fan lay on the recliner and started to sunbathe. He was unable to sleep, yet utterly exhausted—this feeling was truly torturous.

For the first time in his life, Zheng Fan experienced the hardship of being a father. Raising a child is not easy. Whichever family has a son-in-law in mind for her, please take her off my hands soon; it'll guarantee peace in your household.

Just as Zheng Fan was dozing off, a child leaned over.

The wolf cub actually had a name, but his barbarian name was too much of a mouthful, so he was named Zheng Man.

Coming into this world, one couldn't help being influenced by it. The seven generals under the command of the Earl of North Border all had the surname "Li," and on Zheng Fan's side, a line of "Zheng" surnames had also formed. This was the original usage of surnames, a concept signifying one family, one people, predating the division of banners, territories, and ethnic groups. There was another characteristic on Zheng Fan's side: while other ambitious power-seekers were still timid and cautious in their early stages, daring not to aim too high, Zheng Fan had already laid out grand plans. Such plans might seem useless now, and perhaps even in the future, but they were perfect for painting a big picture—a targeted one at that.

Take this wolf cub, for example. From a young age, the Blind One had told him that he was destined to become the new Great Khan of the barbarians. His tribe would replace the Barbarian Royal Court and guard the desert under the command of the Demon King! Even though he knew it was an exaggeration, the wolf cub always felt incredibly happy whenever he heard this "prophecy."

"What's wrong?" Zheng Fan asked weakly.

"My lord, I... I want to join the army."

"Join the army?"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Can you even wield a saber?"

"I can!"

"You're still too young."

If he were a few years older, he'd be adequate even as a child soldier, but the wolf cub was still too young for now. Zheng Fan cherished old ties; of the first batch of barbarian soldiers, few remained. This child was, in truth, the last living memory of that penal tribe.

"My lord, I can go train with Xue San."

Xue San was not tall, but his skills were top-notch. The wolf cub wanted to train under him.

Zheng Fan waved his hand. "No."

"My lord, I..."

"San'er trains assassins and scouts, roles that require hiding in the shadows. You are destined to be the Great Khan of the barbarians. Training with San'er would only narrow your perspective."

"My lord, but I, I want to..."

"The academy is about to open. Go and study."

"I don't want to study! Studying is useless. The Yan people aren't as good at studying as the Qian people, but the Yan people can still thrash us barbarians, and they can thrash the Qian people too!"

This was a very pertinent example. The Qian people's literary culture was supposedly paramount in the world, yet for the past hundred years, they had been a soft persimmon, easily kneaded by others. The sixty thousand strong North Border Army could march directly to their capital city. Although Lord Jingnan's feint played a deceptive role in this, the Qian people's underpants were still ripped off, regardless.

"Barbarism can only run rampant for a time, but culture can endure for generations. You have this opportunity, so read more books. The Yan people may not be as cultured as the Qian people, but how could the centuries-old noble families of Yan truly lack culture? Be humble, learn more. Don't wait until you're older to regret not studying hard when you had the chance."

Countless arrogant and ignorant youths only began to regret not studying diligently when they reached middle age and witnessed the harsh realities of society.

The wolf cub was dissatisfied but dared not defy Zheng Fan's wishes, so he lowered his head. "Yes, my lord."

"Go on then. Focus on your studies first."

The wolf cub left. A Ming, who had been leaning nearby but hadn't approached earlier, now walked over with a smile. "My lord, do you know what immediately came to your mind when you saw yourself talking with the wolf cub just now?"

Zheng Fan glanced at A Ming and said directly, "Li Chengliang and his adopted son."

"As expected of my lord, so creative and quick-witted."

"Did you come specifically to flatter me?" Zheng Fan asked.

"No."

I thought so, Zheng Fan mused. This level of flattery isn't enough.

"My lord, have you never worried about how the world's situation might be affected if this wolf cub truly grows up according to the 'prophecy' we casually concocted for him?" A Ming asked.

Blaming the enemy for learning instead of blaming myself for being useless—how pathetic. Zheng Fan reached up and rubbed his temples. "You all shouldn't be concerned about this."

"I thought my lord would be."

"This kind of nurturing project is quite interesting in itself. However, I find it even more amusing that we, who are still like quails, are worrying about such distant matters. So, what brings you here?"

"Just passing by, came to have a look."

"Are you that free you have nothing better to do?"

"Just you wait, my lord. I'm not the first one to 'pass by' today. If you want to rest properly, it's better to do so in your room."

"What you said does seem to make some sense."

「...」

「Yanjing.」

「The Imperial Palace.」

「The Imperial Study.」

Every year, this particular day marked a royal family banquet. It wasn't a public festival but an occasion exclusive to the royalty, not the common folk. On this day, there wouldn't be a grand celebration; it was simply a time for everyone to share a meal.

This custom originated hundreds of years ago. Annually, around this time, the ice and snow would begin to melt, which largely signified the imminent start of a new round of warfare with the barbarians. After both sides had lain dormant through the harsh winter, they would once again begin to shed each other's blood. After this meal, most adult males of the Ji Clan would depart for the front lines.

However, for the past century, as peace gradually took hold, this day evolved into a more casual affair—a simple shared meal. Due to its historical origins, it was never marked by excessive celebration or ostentation.

Ji Runhao occupied the head seat. The Second Prince, Ji Chenglang, sat in the next highest position, followed by the Fourth Prince, Ji Chengfeng, the Fifth Prince, Ji Chengmin, the Sixth Prince, Ji Chengjue, and the young Seventh Prince, Ji Chengsu. Ji Chengsu, no longer reliant on his wet nurse, sat quietly and properly behind his elder brothers, eating his meal.

Two were absent: the Eldest Prince, who was stationed at the border in Beifeng Prefecture, and the Third Prince, Ji Chengyue, who was confined in the lake pavilion. The Fifth Prince, Ji Chengmin, had finished his period of disciplinary confinement and had been released.

Such is the heartlessness of the Royal Family. With Ji Runhao as their father, one could not expect such things as paternal affection. From the Second Prince down to the young Seventh Prince, all the princes ate their meal with trepidation. The portions were fixed, and no leftovers were permitted; even the plates had to be scraped clean.

Ji Runhao had already finished eating. He was using a steamed bun to wipe his plate clean, taking small bites while silently observing his sons seated below. The Emperor's gaze was like a tangible pressure, making it difficult for most of the princes to even breathe as they ate. There was one exception, however. Having finished his own food, he was helping the young Ji Chengsu with a portion of his.

"Cheng Jue, are you very hungry?" The Yan Emperor's gaze fell upon his sixth son.

The Sixth Prince smiled and nodded. "Father Emperor, your son has been rather short on rich food lately."

The princes' residences were supplied with food, but it wasn't particularly lavish. Moreover, each prince's household supported many 'unofficial' personnel, which made their resources rather tight.

"Then it is my failing for letting my son go hungry," the Yan Emperor said.

"I'm not starving, Father Emperor. I can eat my fill at every meal. For an ordinary family, this would already be an incredible blessing. So, to occasionally have the chance to enjoy a feast like this is a wonderful thing."

"Wei Zhonghe."

"Your slave is here."

"Later, send an extra course of dishes to the Sixth Prince's residence."

"Your slave obeys the decree."

The Sixth Prince immediately rose from his seat and knelt. "Thank you, Father Emperor."

The Yan Emperor waved his hand. "Enough. If you can't eat anymore, don't. Forcing it down is just a waste of food, like pointlessly carrying stones up a mountain."

"Your son obeys the decree."

"Your son obeys the decree."

All the princes rose in unison to express their thanks.

The quantity of food was a long-standing rule. For a very long time, the rule had been there—how much food, how many dishes—it remained unchanged. People, however, often changed. The men of the Ji Clan in olden days were valiant and skilled in battle, and naturally had large appetites. Now, apart from the absent Eldest Prince who had a hearty appetite, and the Sixth Prince who was famished for rich food and could still eat, the other princes were hardly associated with martial prowess.

"Cheng Lang, stay. The rest of you may leave."

"Your son receives the order."

"Your son receives the order."

The Fourth Prince, Fifth Prince, and the young Ji Chengsu departed. The Second Prince, Ji Chenglang, remained. However, one other person, seemingly oblivious, also stayed behind.

It was the Sixth Prince. He actually took out a bag from his robes and began to pack the leftovers from his brothers' tables into it.

Seeing this, the Yan Emperor's eyes narrowed slightly. He directly flung his chopsticks at the Sixth Prince, who nimbly dodged them and continued to gather the scraps.

"Who are you putting on this pitiful act for?!"

The Sixth Prince's body trembled. He turned to face the Yan Emperor. "Such good food, Father. It would be a pity to waste it. Since it's all going to be given to the servants anyway, shouldn't family members like your son get first dibs?"

"Has your princely stipend not been issued?"

"That's not it. It's just that I have many concubines in my household, and thus many mouths to feed. In fact, I've already put them to work weaving cloth at home."

The Yan Emperor tapped lightly on the table. Wei Zhonghe immediately bent forward. "Your slave is here."

"Confiscate all the concubines in the Sixth Prince's household and register them as official slaves. If he cannot support them, the Imperial Court will do it for him."

"Your slave... Your slave obeys the decree."

The Sixth Prince swayed, his body trembling. Finally, he knelt. "Your son... thanks His Majesty for this profound grace."

「...」

Carrying a bag on his back, the Sixth Prince walked out of the Imperial Palace in a daze. Then, with Master Zhang's assistance, he unsteadily boarded the carriage waiting outside.

"Your Highness? Your Highness?" Master Zhang asked with concern. While waiting at the palace gate, he had already seen the eunuch delivering the imperial decree depart, so he naturally understood what had transpired. "Your Highness, you must endure. You must endure."

The Sixth Prince extended his hand. "Handkerchief."

"Oh, right away." Master Zhang immediately handed him a warm, damp towel.

The Sixth Prince wiped his face, then lowered the towel. He took a long, deep breath.

Looking at Master Zhang, he said, "That old man... his health is failing."

——————

Thanks to Mu Xiansheng of Camil for becoming the 81st Alliance Master of Devil!