Why do I have so many masters?

Fufeng County City, house in the south of the city.

A quiet serenity filled the air. Ding Song sat in the front room, resting in a meditative pose. His war blade had not been sheathed, lying across his knees, while the woman rested in the master house, her eyes half-closed, a fine sweat beading on her nose, obviously not sleeping peacefully. Triggered by some emotion, memories of the past gradually became clearer and reemerged at that moment.

There were flames, there were swords.

There was a fierce intent to kill.

Beneath the blazing torches, the majestic palace gates were illuminated, along with the fierce and fearful faces, their dark blades emitting a chilly serene gleam and an unmistakable aura of murder, shining on the Longxi bravado who was guzzling with his head thrown back, his body enveloped in raging thunder.

It also lit up the clean visage beside him.

Not in official attire, not in armor.

Surrounded on all sides, he remained in a simple blue Confucian robe, appearing crisp and clear, the very image of refined elegance even amidst the blades.

This was the man she called Master, the man she called teacher.

This was the grown lad who would fumble awkwardly, pulling sweets from all over his person to cheer her up.

But now he was holding the Dragon Slaying Dagger, pushing aside the Xuanwu guards, striding forward quickly. Cries rang out behind him, urging him to stop. His own father, the Crown Prince at the time, glared at him with fury, coldly commanding.

"You dare commit regicide!"

"What dare not!"

The seventeen-year-old boy showed not the slightest fear. He thrust the dagger in his hand directly into his father's heart, blood spurting out, staining the golden dragon robe with dark blotches.

She was right there, watching as the originally gentle eyes underwent a transformation.

Resolute and direct.

Twisting the dagger slightly, he stepped back, dropped the dagger on the ground with a clang. The soldiers engaged in the fight all ceased their movements at this moment, watching the youth incredulously. A deadly silence fell over heaven and earth, the only thing visible was the youth in blue, the older scholar bowing to the Crown Prince who had fallen to the ground, his expression calm as he spoke.

"Your Highness, please go ahead."

"This humble subject will follow shortly."

"You..."

In the silence of heaven and earth, the invisible sound of a dragon's lament wailed, fierce and sorrowful, dancing through the sky. The light of the countless torches seemed to dim, and in her stunned gaze, it seemed as if a dragon bleeding tears was roaring into the body of the seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth.

The gentle eyes slowly lost their original brilliance.

His temples gradually turned hoary as if he had reached a fragile, dying age in an instant.

But his spine remained straight, his face still calm.

He turned around, cupping his hands in a bow toward her second uncle.

"This humble subject accepts his punishment."

"Ah!"

Li Wanshun awoke from the nightmare once more, panic filling her eyes. She sat up with a jolt, her breathing rapid. When she laid eyes on the typical Fufeng-style decorations, she regained her senses, realizing she was no longer in the Heavenly Capital, nor was she in the Imperial Palace a dozen years prior.

There was no thunderous rumble before her eyes.

Nor was there the clean, calm visage with the sharpness of a sword in his brows and eyes.

Recalling the scene, despite the coolness of the night, her clothes were drenched, her heart thumping wildly, and sleepiness had wholly dissipated. The woman sat up on the bed, steadied her spirit, then stepped down, clothed in a moonlight-colored silk undergarment, her black hair draped loosely behind her.

Looking at half of her face, it was as delicate and beautiful as a fairy from Turquoise Pool; the other half, gentle in contour, was covered by a light-coloured gold-trimmed mask, revealing pupils not black but of a color resembling exquisite jade.

The woman sat by the table, pouring herself a cup of tea.

Even after nearly two decades since the event, every midnight dream brought heart-pounding, uncontrollable fear.

Who could have imagined that the Crown Prince, growing increasingly favored and set to ascend the throne the following year, would be murdered in broad daylight, after the Moon Festival, before a family feast at the Imperial Palace.

The situation changed dramatically from that day on.

In the end, it was all because of one weak scholar.

The woman's hands embraced the tea cup, the chill almost penetrating to the bone as she uncontrollably recalled the guardian of the Fufeng scripts that Yuwen Qingzhu mentioned.

Clothed in blue.

His features were not entirely handsome, but they were very clean.

Most importantly, his surname was Wang, and he thought of Anfeng.

Is he your son?

Master Wang.

Her teeth clenched on her lip, drawing a little fresh blood that trickled down her face, a shocking sight.

.........…

Inside Heaven Capital City, Imperial Palace.

In the royal study, the Emperor of the Great Qin Empire was still perusing memorials. With the Mid-Autumn Festival recently passed, on top of celebrating with the people, the royal family also had to prepare for the grand ceremony of Moon Worship, with no shortage of busywork.

Fortunately, he was indeed born into the military life, having joined the army for training at the age of thirteen. He had also charged through the heartlands of enemy nations and singled out enemy generals in battle. His participation had contributed to the Great Qin's present stability, and even though his martial arts skills had been somewhat neglected after his ascension to the throne, he remained a solid Fourth Rank Martial Artist.

He could still endure.

Having dealt with some more petitions, the eunuch who had served him for a long time brought him a bowl of ginseng soup.

The no-longer-young eunuch took the empty bowl and, seeing a hint of weariness on the Emperor's face, softly consoled him:

"Your Majesty, it is late. Why not rest earlier today?"

The Emperor stretched his stiff limbs and replied:

"There's no need... You may withdraw."

The eunuch dared not disobey, murmured an acknowledgment with a low voice, lowered his hands, and quietly left the imperial study.

Moments later, in the study, he was left alone. The man looked up at the window, saw the bright moon in the sky, watched the clouds gathering and scattering, his expression slightly absent as he said:

"It's Mid-Autumn already..."

He fell silent for a moment, then sighed:

"If it were the old days, it would be possible to steal a moment of leisure. But now, I simply cannot afford it... cannot afford it, after all, I have made promises."

Shaking his head, he endured the subtle impatience in his heart and directed his attention to those petitions filled with trite phrases.

Seventeen years ago.

"... I'm leaving."

He, who was already designated as Crown Prince at the time, looked at his good friend, who had assassinated the Crown Prince and stabbed the Crown Prince, had been backfired by the world's Dragon Qi, having no cultivation to speak of, his lifeline flickering like a candle in the wind, soon to lose his life. He fell silent, then said:

"Stay here, and I will find you the best doctor."

The young man with white hair chuckled and turned around, looking at him with disdain and said:

"Helping the man who killed your brother?"

"You... think more carefully."

"You are much better than your brothers. The Great Qin is not yet stable, and with regards to Tibet and the Xiongnu, just play the obedient part for now; when it comes to fighting, strike hard."

"Temporary humiliation is nothing. The people of the world and those historians in the future will only see the outcome."

The voice quieted down.

The Confucian Scholar in blue robes looked at him, let out a breath, and softly said:

"After today, you and I need not see each other again."

"I have been devoted to the principles in the books all my life and have not yet appreciated the great beauty of the world. Now that I am about to die, shouldn't I at least witness some of the scenery in this mortal world, lest it be a pity?"

The voice paused slightly, then he shook his head and sighed, saying:

"However, I always feel that even if I lived to be eighty years old, when I am about to die, I will still regret things—like not practicing martial arts or not confessing my feelings to the girl I love..."

"But even with those regrets, what use is it?"

"After all, at that time, I had made my choices deliberately. I might feel regretful about my life, but I would not have the slightest bit of remorse. If I had to do it all over again, I would probably make the same choices."

"I hope you can do the same."

The Crown Prince at that time did not know how to respond to these words and only remembered that they talked for a long time. When the Scholar was about to depart, he said to him:

"There's no need for you to see me off. Just don't forget the three things I asked you to do."

"... Below three feet of yellow springs, I await your answer."

He waved his hand and turned to walk away, never looking back.

The Crown Prince reached out, wanting to retain him, but found himself unable to speak, only able to watch the figure recede into the distance, watching the white hair of the man in blue grow fainter, witnessing the Longxi hero glaring coldly at him once more, grabbing the Scholar's collar, indifferent to his struggles, and threw him onto the horse nonetheless, then rode away.

He wanted to chase after him.

But the heavy weight of the dragon robe seemed to freeze his body, preventing him from moving, forcing him to maintain the dignity befitting a Crown Prince standing in the Imperial Palace, watching his friend leave.

At that time, he felt a profound sense of frigid distance.

The Emperor, his expression distracted, came back to his senses, looking at the petitions before him, and the events from seventeen years ago flashed before his eyes. He chuckled softly to himself:

"Heh, three things..."

"Making sure the people have enough to eat, proper clothes to wear, and good places to live."

"Wang Anfeng, your ambitions were always grand, and these count as three things?"

"Just like your 'No. 1 delicious dish in the world.'"

"I truly fell for your nonsense!"

PS: Second update... well, the start of a little story line for Wang Anfeng's father...