Chapter Twenty-Two: The Banquet, the Beheading, and Accepting a Dog’s Loyalty

The court now belonged to the foreigners; they already regarded the emerging martial order as unforgivable criminals who disrupted civilized trade. For such an extraordinary rebellion of yellow-skinned monkeys, a heavy-handed response was deemed essential. The court, ever eager to please their foreign masters, was quick to follow suit, grinning obsequiously all the while.

Before they had even fully grasped the events unfolding in Puhai, the court had hastily declared the martial order, led by Nong Jin-sun, Chen Qimei, and others, to be treasonous rebels guilty of heinous crimes: seducing the populace, murdering the loyal, betraying trust and filial duty, violating ancestral laws. According to every statute, they deserved execution by a thousand cuts and dismemberment! In particular, Lan Yi, now thrust into notoriety as the leader of this "evil cult," was branded with twelve capital offenses, awaiting only the arrival of the Heavenly Army of the foreigners to be crushed and suppressed.

They were urged to surrender at once, in which case leniency might be shown. The decree ended with a flourish: "Traitors who gather rebels will surely be struck down by Heaven!"

Such were the official pronouncements. Along with them came whispers from the north—barely more pleasant. The gist was simple: foreigners are invincible, do not act rashly and bring ruin to the southern coastlands. Send the shaman Lan Yi to court as National Preceptor to serve the Emperor. Should they refuse, the court would provide no aid; indeed, not only would there be no assistance, but they would help the foreigners to exterminate the rebels.

So it was that, on their own soil, those who had defeated the foreign armies were condemned as monstrous criminals, deserving of divine wrath—facing ostracism and a fate of being hunted by all.

After hearing this exquisite decree, Lan Yi was truly terrified—so much so that he considered using his armored Divine Thunder Cannon to execute the pigskin dog Emperor.

Huo Yuanjia, after relaying the message, found himself breathless with anger. Even though he had been forewarned, repeating it left him once again stricken by the court’s stupidity, incompetence, and myopic cowardice.

"Immortal Master, lead us north to campaign!" Huo Yuanjia had abandoned any hope of supporting the Qing to drive out the foreigners. Rotten mud cannot be shaped into a wall! Even with the Immortal Master's support, it would only prop up a foul and corrupt regime that would bring disaster to China.

"No matter which world I find myself in, there are always such foolish, cloven-hoofed creatures lining up to be slapped," Lan Yi couldn't help but sigh in his elegant hometown dialect.

"I've changed my mind. I was going to head east after settling things here, but perhaps I’ll go north first," he declared.

Huo Yuanjia instinctively responded, "Shall we prepare and accompany you?"

"No need. I’ll take the train north when the time comes." Taking the train would be a perfect opportunity to cleanse the reactionaries, one station at a time. By the time he reached Yanjing, Lan Yi was curious to see whether the Qing court, strangled step by step by despair and terror, would kneel and beg for mercy or flee in panic to set a third record of fleeing westward.

Along the way, perhaps he might encounter other psychic cultivators from the Prime World. Artificial Divinity Realm 1909 was not a trial ground for Lan Yi alone; before his rebirth, he had known that there was a psychic cultivator in Dongyang, another in Ice Fortress, and one more in Xinghan apart from himself—though that last one had been particularly unlucky, captured at once and publicly executed for various reasons.

Further afield, he was less certain. Given the era’s primitive communication and transport, it was difficult for psychic cultivators from the Prime World to meet unless fortune or fate intervened.

In their first trial within the Artificial Divinity Realm, most psychic cultivators—unlike Lan Yi, who showed miracles and created martial artists, suppressing all dissent and audaciously reshaping his territory—were simply struggling to survive as ordinary people. Only those who began with a useful Destiny Cluster could fare better. If they had nothing and entered unprepared, disaster awaited.

Take Xinghan, for example: men could at least manage a kind of wild survival, but for women, the fates were horrific beyond words. He had heard of certain young women, dreaming of a place at the Wei and Jin tables, who, ignoring all warnings, leapt at the chance to enter the battle space, imagining themselves as empresses of the harem or queens of commerce.

Whether any realized such dreams, Lan Yi did not know. What he had heard was this: after the first round of Artificial Divinity trials in the battle space, gynecology and dermatology clinics in every city were overwhelmed with patients.

Yet Lan Yi’s deeds had made enough noise that, should any psychic cultivator unknown to him seek him out, it would not be impossible.

Huo Yuanjia’s report marked the formal rise of the martial order as a force to be reckoned with in this world. In an age of brewing storms and imperial contention, these martial artists—having tasted humiliation and despair, vowing to avenge their past—would use their strength to carve out a space for the empire to survive, no longer content to be sheep to the slaughter.

A temporary leap in supernatural power did not mean progress in all other realms. Martial artists could indeed shrug off bullets, but in large-scale warfare—against heavy artillery, machine guns, dynamite, grenades, flamethrowers, and poison gas—the difference between a martial artist and an ordinary person was slight. Even those trained in the Human Aspect could not unleash spiritual attacks endlessly; after killing hundreds, their will would be spent.

Thus, Lan Yi had never placed all his eggs in one basket. If guns and cannons were so effective, then martial artists wielding them would, on the battlefield, far outstrip ordinary soldiers and be much more suited to combat.

Today, Mr. Kent, ever willing to sell his conscience and loyalty, brought good news. Among the prisoners taken by Lan Yi, he had found some unexpected treasures—not the captured observers, but the unfortunate journalists from before.

In this era, those who became journalists and journeyed overseas for exotic experiences—especially women—were mostly from powerful families, seeking spiritual fulfillment beyond material comfort. Thanks to popular adventure and detective novels among foreign aristocrats, the idea of a forbidden romance with an outstanding local in a distant land had become a tantalizing fantasy for some governor’s wife or noble maiden.

Though these journalists had been captured, they were not cruelly mistreated. Lan Yi’s power and perfection were evident to all, and Kent, upon taking stock, quickly recognized an opportunity.

"So, you suggest they become my mistresses or lovers?" Lan Yi was almost ready to applaud.

Nong Jin-sun’s eyes blazed; he nearly leapt up to tear out Kent’s throat. This foreigner! They hadn’t even had a chance to offer women to the Immortal Master, and he had beaten them to the punch!

"Honored sir, I am acquainted with the culture of Xinghan. For a powerful extraordinary figure like yourself, multiple wives and concubines are customary. In our own culture, it is normal for a great general or king to have several secretaries, lovers, maids, or companions. Of course, if you wish for men, they too would be happy to oblige."

Kent presented a long list of names, along with the companies and noble houses behind them—ironclads, artillery, various factories, and instructors for new armies. Secure their favor, and all these resources would be yours.