Eight hundred years of spring and autumn, every place here has a story, every brick is soaked with blood and hatred, dyed with the traces of swords and fire. Whale Hunter originally thought that Li Guanyi and the others would naturally go in.
But the gate was still blocked, and it wasn’t by a minor character. It was the husband of a princess from the royal family who, seeing the heavy traffic in and out of the Central State Capital, got greedy and raised the taxes five or six times.
People cursed, but he didn’t listen, and the martial artists, who came to watch Sword Madman Murong Longtu, gritted their teeth and paid up, but the imperial relatives became even more ruthless.
Murong Longtu said, "He did make a good sum."
The young Taoist started a conflict with them. The people there, seeing Li Guanyi as just an old man and a young man wearing ordinary clothes and riding ordinary horses, looked down on him somewhat.
The imperial relative was drinking tea in a nearby teahouse, and upon hearing about the conflict, sent a group of people over without much concern; the young man looked at the sky, drew his sword, and toppled them all over.
This stirred up a hornet’s nest, and a crowd of people rushed out immediately.
The local townspeople scattered immediately.
The princess’s husband was quite haughty, born into a great aristocratic family and married into the central state’s royal family, his family was involved in various businesses throughout Central State and even some parts of the Central Plains. People said that even if someone was severely injured,
That person would still have to go to his pharmacy to get medicine, stay in a house repaired by his firm, and ultimately, if they died, they would need to buy his family’s coffins and funeral paper money. Purchasing some fame amongst the noble sons, his name grew even more renowned.
Li Guanyi saw that they planned to present themselves with all the airs of noble families and the Emperor’s relatives.
The young Taoist smiled it off, turned his head to Murong Longtu, and said, "Leave this to me, Grandpa." He held his sword, standing in front of the elder, whispering, "Fortunately, we came across these people here. Fortunately, Little Shitou and the others didn’t come here."
"I really hope that in Little Shitou’s eyes, I am still that playful Taoist."
"But even the longest road in the Martial World has an end."
"In the Martial World, Mu Ziyi, Pharmacist Li, here, can no longer be just Mu Ziyi, Pharmacist Li; they cannot, nor should they be these names."
"Let’s make this one last trip through the Martial World my finale."
The princess’s husband thought the young man’s words were nonsensical, yet they seemed sincere, and he laughed, "What nonsense, call someone..." His words were cut off as he felt the ground tremble beneath him.
The booming sound was like thunder in the sky.
From a distance away from this greatest city, smoke and dust rose suddenly, and then rapidly approached, spreading out to both sides, somewhat resembling the line of a great river tide, coming fiercely, dust swirling like a storm, but already with banners flying high.
Those were crimson battle flags with a Qilin pattern.
Leading them was a big man, his brows and eyes full of authority, dressed in dark-colored heavy armor, like a mountain.
A line of five hundred heavy cavalry and a line of five hundred light cavalry, a total of one thousand cavalry, all galloping at high speed and even charging with a momentum as grand as a thousand miles of thunder from the sky.
The iron cavalry, like a line of tide, charged thunderously this way and then suddenly stopped.
With actions neat and uniform, a fierce and chilling aura soared into the sky, making one instinctively hold their breath and tense up.
The leading cavalry general dismounted, ran over, and kneeling on one knee behind the young Taoist in the blue Taoist robe, his voice quiet and solemn, said:
"Ling Pingyang, at your service, my lord!"
Behind him, a thousand iron cavalry dismounted and saluted solemnly.
"At your service, my lord!"
Their voices solemn as tides, these iron cavalrymen, their gazes calm and expressions solemn, watched the young figure.
The Princess’s husband was stunned.
To command such respect from Ling Pingyang, the foremost young cavalry general, and from the crimson-clad iron cavalry rolling like clouds, sprawling across hills, there was only one person.
The husband trembled uncontrollably.
Ling Pingyang stood up, and this time Li Guanyi didn’t help him up as a friend might. Behind Ling Pingyang, two Iron Cavalry Captains stepped forward, holding a crimson war robe with a Cloud Pattern of dark gold ink, and the young Taoist simply changed into this war robe.
The crimson war robe, with its dark gold Cloud Pattern hanging down.
A jade belt encircling his waist, finally replacing the wooden hairpin with the gold crown of a noble.
Armed with a sword at his waist, the young man smiled and shook hands with Murong Longtu and Shaking Light, then mounted the Dragon Horse led by Ling Pingyang, sword equipped at his side.
He slightly lifted his gaze, looking ahead, the sound of the Dragon Horse’s hooves crisp.
Calmly, he entered the Central State Imperial City.
The Princess’s husband and the noble sons who had just been feasting turned deathly pale, already collapsing to the ground, some even cowardly fainting.
Li Guanyi rode into the gate of this first city of the world, his crimson war robe fluttering, calmly looking ahead.
As if seeing Ji Zichang, seeing Jiang Wanxiang, seeing Chen Dingye, seeing the Academy, seeing the royal family of the Martial World, and from then on, seeing the turmoil rising from all directions under the heavens.
Then composedly, as if it were destined, he walked into these tumultuous times.
Whale Hunter watched the young man’s figure from afar, watching his fluttering robe.
A thousand cavalry in tow.
He was somewhat dazed.
In the eleventh year of Divine Revelation, Li Guanyi first came to the most majestic and magnificent capital of Central State, in the capacity of a noble, under the ancient city gates paved with blue bricks over eight hundred years, he trod on blood and tears-stained stories, and traces of sword and fire.
The sunlight fell on his face, on his body, he thought to himself.