Grand Preceptor's voice, tinged with the weight of time, merged with the strategy essay Zhao Xunan had written. Before long, all present were utterly engrossed.
Since the Human Emperor founded the Ancestral Court, humanity had inherited the legacy of military strategy. Countless texts had been written, yet most fixated on trivial details of troop deployment—never before had a work so sharply captured the essence of warfare.
Zhao Xunan's essay, titled Strategy, wove together millennia of scattered military wisdom into a cohesive masterpiece. Though brief, it was a foundational text for generals of all ages—something no one had dared to imagine before.
"…Zhao Xunan, Zhao Xunan…" Grand Preceptor murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "What manner of man is this? My Great Qin… how shall we ever repay you?"
The essay was too profound to keep hidden. "Strategy must never leave the palace!" the Grand Marshal declared, carefully rolling the scroll and handing it to the Emperor. His expression was grave. "As the essay states, such military wisdom cannot be shared lightly. If it falls into the wrong hands, the consequences for Great Qin would be catastrophic. Your Majesty must safeguard it well—only the most loyal may read it, and it must never leave the palace."
The Emperor nodded solemnly, summoning Red Dragonfly to lock it in a golden casket and store it in the National Treasury. Only she held the key.
Relief washed over the court. Grand Secretary Pu Yangyan spoke first: "I first recognized Zhao Xunan through his Six Kingdoms Discourse—I knew then Great Qin had a successor for the chancellorship. Later, his Mountain and River Poetry left me in awe—such grandeur, such passion. With him, our literary world has a new backbone. But to see him abandon letters for martial arts… what a waste of genius!"
"But today, after reading Strategy…" Pu Yangyan trailed off, shaking his head. "Zhao Xunan transcends disciplines. He is the cornerstone of Great Qin's prosperity for a century!"
The Grand Secretary's praise was effusive, yet no one challenged it. All nodded in agreement. Even Chancellor Nong Li, usually reserved, spoke up: "Without exaggeration, Strategy alone earns Zhao Xunan the title of 'Military Sage.' Through the ages, countless military masters have risen—but none have laid the foundations of strategy as he has."
Phoenix, scribbling at a nearby desk, lifted her head sharply. To her, Nong Li's words carried more weight than Pu Yangyan's. For immortals, "prosperity for a century" was but a fleeting river. But sainthood? That was an eternal legacy, a causal chain spanning millennia.
Myths spoke of it: To become an immortal is easy; to become a sage is hard. Even if Zhao Xunan's bones turned to dust, his name would echo through time—his soul bound to heaven and earth.
Though surprised by Zhao Xunan's recent feats, Phoenix had never imagined he'd reached such heights.
"…" She crumpled a sheet of high-quality rice paper, her brow furrowed. A faint, bitter resentment stirred in her heart. Why hide such talent until after breaking off the engagement with the Li family? Could it be… as the gossip says? To humiliate the Li clan?
Meanwhile, at the Martial Arts Academy, Song Chuizi and Lü Qingcai were feasting. The scent of venison, spiced with Western Region fennel, filled the air as they grilled over an open fire.
"Old Zhao, those martial candidates sharing your year are doomed!" Song Chuizi said, rare in his short sleeves, his iron chopsticks clanging against the grill. "They're not even in the same league—this year's top scholar is yours for sure!"
Lü Qingcai chuckled. "Old Song's right. But with Master Zhao's current status, even the 'top scholar' title feels underwhelming. He's just playing along for fun."
Zhao Xunan clinked cups with them, his expression thoughtful. This essay had been heavier than he'd realized. Writing it, he hadn't noticed—but now, he wondered: Is this too much for Great Qin to bear?
"Old Zhao may call it 'play,' but the Emperor and ministers won't let you off the hook," Song Chuizi warned. "Your exam paper was sent straight to the palace. My father says Grand Preceptor and the others are waiting to see it—such treatment hasn't been given in eight hundred years!"
"Now that everyone knows Master Zhao is both a literary and martial prodigy, the court will find ways to use him. By entering the martial exams, you've handed them a handle. Mark my words—you'll be busy soon!"
Zhao Xunan frowned. Song Chuizi's words held merit. His hope to stay in the Martial Arts Academy until the Kunlun Grand Secret Realm opened might not come to pass.
Two days later, the martial skills exam began. Zhao Xunan dominated effortlessly. The chief examiner? Song Chuizi's father, Minister of War Song Qiancheng.
Watching Zhao Xunan ride his horse to victory, trampling all before him, Song Qiancheng sighed to the supervisors: "We should petition the palace—letting an immortal compete with mortal martial artists is cruelty!"
The supervisors nodded in agreement. A two- or three-year-old child couldn't hope to match an adult. Zhao Xunan lifted a cauldron overhead with one hand, shattered five stone pillars with a single blade, and split a stone wall with twelve arrows—none of this was "mortal" skill.
Unlike the nine-day civil exam, the martial exam concluded in six days. The candidates rejoiced—no skill demonstrations meant avoiding Zhao Xunan's wrath.
Three days after the exam, the list was posted. Zhao Xunan's name topped it, "Top Scholar" in every sense. Yet one detail puzzled onlookers: unlike last year's civil exam, his strategy essay wasn't displayed.
When asked, the Ministry of Personnel official stated bluntly: "Master Zhao's answers were flawless, surpassing even the provided solutions. As for the strategy essay—it's been sealed in the Forbidden City. No one may view it."
This sparked outrage. Last year, the civil exam's strategy essays had been sealed; now the martial exam's? Zhao Xunan and strategy are unstoppable!
A small notice beside the red list announced: The imperial exam, originally scheduled for a month later, would be held in three days in Baohedian Hall. The only change? A skill demonstration.
"Such abrupt changes this year!" a successful candidate grumbled. "Six days of exams, then three days to prepare for the imperial exam—how can we adjust?"
"Relax. Once you're a jinshi (metropolitan graduate), you'll perform for the Imperial Guard. It's not as bad as you think," a familiar voice reassured.
Zhao Xunan knew better. This "routine" imperial exam felt like a trap. His divination had warned of impending danger.
Three days later, morning bells rang. Over two hundred kaiyuan era scholars, dressed in black short robes, marched through the palace gates, flanked by Imperial Guards.
The Emperor, Grand Marshal, and six ministers awaited them.
"Long live the Emperor!" the newly promoted Minister of Revenue cheered. Before he could finish, the Grand Marshal glared. "Nonsense. These are martial heroes? Illiterate fools who can't tell strategy from tactics—they're no heroes!"
"Not even all of Great Qin's martial artists are this useless!" the Grand Marshal scoffed. "If all were like them, we'd be doomed!"
The Emperor coughed, glancing at Phoenix beside him. Must she stir up trouble? he wondered.
The ceremony proceeded. Minister Wu Peiyang of Rites led the usual rituals—offering to heaven, ancestors, and the Sage. Then came the skill demonstrations.
The scholars, hopeful to impress the Emperor, faced opponents from the Imperial Guard and border armies. This was no exhibition—blades bit flesh, blood splattered, and the officials gasped.
By the top ten, opponents were seasoned border generals. Fights turned brutal; two scholars broke bones. The officials finally understood—something was wrong.
Zhao Xunan watched, calculating. His gaze fell on Phoenix, standing by the Dragon Throne. Danger comes from her.
"…Entangled again," he muttered. No need for divination—he already knew. This Li clan heiress was his bane, always seeking conflict. With the Green Phoenix Sword in hand, she meant business.
"Top Scholar, step forward. Choose your weapon."
Zhao Xunan handed his Tiangui (Heavenly Pivot Saber) to a guard. "No need for wood swords, Your Holiness. I doubt you'd deign to use them."
Phoenix approached silently, her gaze cold. Zhao Xunan opened his mouth to ask why, but she cut him off.
"Prepare well. Even a Foundation Establishment immortal can't break this formation." She tossed a golden talisman, which unfolded into a golden array enclosing them. "I'll hold back—just enough to test you."
Her lips curled. Zhao Xunan sighed. So thorough. Why such hatred?
The array activated. Zhao Xunan's Tiangui glowed, slicing through the air like a comet. Phoenix's Green Phoenix Sword met it, and the shockwave shattered the formation's barrier.
The hall trembled. Officials clutched their ears, nauseated by the roar.
Phoenix laughed, weaving a blue dragon talisman. "Purify!" The dragon exploded into lightning, dissolving the array's remnants.
"Take this!" Zhao Xunan lunged, his saber aimed at her waist.
Phoenix parried with her sword, the clash ringing like thunder. Zhao Xunan twisted, slapping her with his left hand. "Blessing of the God of Wealth—cease killing!"
White light engulfed her, hardening into stone. Zhao Xunan shoved, and she crashed into the barrier, sliding to the ground.