Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter Thirty-Six: A Formidable Foe

“Thus the gentleman seeks harmony without being carried away by the current; how strong and upright his bearing. He stands in the center without leaning to either side; how strong and upright his bearing. When the state is governed by the right way, he remains unchanging in his steadfastness; how strong and upright his bearing. When the state is without the right way, he remains unchanging even to death; how strong and upright his bearing.” Yang Hao shook his head as he spoke.

This was his guiding principle, the same he would later teach his son.

In ancient times, there was a man named Ma Jun, who improved the jacquard loom for weaving brocade and invented the waterwheel for irrigation, greatly increasing labor efficiency. Yet, because of his humble status and a stammer, he was often criticized and ridiculed. At that time, the great scholar Fu Xuan took a stand, advocating among many high officials for Ma Jun’s talent to be appreciated and wrote a detailed biography recording his inventions.

Yang Hao thought of how the Grand Tutor had once recognized and valued him—enough for a scholar to lay down his life for a confidant.

And today, he too must hold fast to his position. A true gentleman stands with integrity and unwavering resolve, never bending toward self-interest or relying on the support of others; only one who conquers his own desires with reason and righteousness can do this.

Such strength is the mark of a gentleman—unbending before all things under heaven. Should this not be the strength all scholars aspire to?

“Yang Hao, do you understand what it means to refuse both me and His Majesty?” Lu Hongjing sneered coldly.

“I understand,” Yang Hao nodded, but showed no regret.

“Tian Xingzi claimed he is the Emperor of Man—do you all really believe that?” Lu Hongjing mocked. “But what can such a man give you now? What can he give you in the future? Is this what you call an Emperor of Man?”

“Hope,” Yang Hao replied.

“What?” Lu Hongjing was momentarily stunned.

“Hope,” Yang Hao repeated. “Someone who, when disaster strikes, can charge ahead without hesitation, someone willing to stand at the forefront.” He recalled his own past. “When I was young, I worked hauling cargo at the docks. Some foremen were ruthless, making life unbearable. Yet, I saw people who would work alongside us, leading by example. Then, we believed such men were worth following. That man made his fortune before me—he has always been my role model.”

“His Highness is dedicated to martial arts and will achieve great things—not just because he needs to be a ruler in peaceful times!”

That was why Tian Xingzi so highly regarded him, believing he could become the Emperor of Man.

Lu Hongjing was left speechless, and it took a long moment for him to recover.

…

The light was dim, the air thick with an eerie, demonic energy.

Even with oil lamps burning far off on the stone walls, barely any light reached this place.

Lu Hongjing stood there, feeling an immense pressure.

He was earnestly reporting everything that had happened to the person on the high platform.

“I managed, with great effort, to gain Tang Lord’s approval, but he still refused. In the future, Tang Lord will no longer favor such a man,” Lu Hongjing finished with a sigh.

“He truly is a clever man,” came a woman’s voice from above, tinged with admiration. “You may go now.”

Lu Hongjing had always thought Yang Hao was a remarkable man.

He truly believed it.

Born of humble origins, with an eccentric temperament—not only was he upright and principled, but his temper was also rather poor. On one hand, he was cautious and low-key; on the other, his ambitions soared.

Yet, after joining Wang Chuan, his name became known throughout the land.

Only then did Lu Hongjing learn of such a man—one who had truly made his way from nothing and could become a legend.

In less than twenty years, he had accumulated a fortune of ten thousand gold—a feat many noble houses could not match in a hundred years.

Lu Hongjing asked, “Then, this matter…?”

“It has nothing to do with you now. You are no longer needed.” The woman’s voice was cold. “The Sixth Prince of Wei has already arrived. Let him go meet Wang Chuan.”

Lu Hongjing took his leave with respectful deference.

After he departed, the woman slowly turned around.

Suddenly, the flames surrounding her rose high, illuminating the space.

She was dressed in a plain black gown, simple in design yet marked by exquisite craftsmanship. Her graceful figure—slender waist, rounded hips—was accentuated, lending her an air of noble elegance. On her brow was a delicate decorative patch, crystalline and picturesque.

…

“Who was that just now?” Old Zhong asked casually.

“The son of a good friend, someone who once greatly appreciated me—an old friend despite the age gap,” Yang Hao replied after a moment’s thought. “They are afraid, so someone wishes to isolate His Highness.”

“Is this aimed at His Highness?” Old Zhong was startled.

“It’s not clear yet. I hope I’m just being paranoid.” Yang Hao spoke cautiously. “I have many shops and workshops in various countries—managers, clerks, craftsmen, hawkers—feeding tens of thousands. I also run security agencies and guilds, all excellent sources of information… Just in case, I’ll have them gather anything connected to this.”

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Old Zhong said, wide-eyed in amazement.

Before long, someone from the palace came seeking Wang Chuan.

But Wang Chuan had not yet returned, and they did not know his whereabouts. Yang Hao was once again forced to send his men to inquire and search for anyone who had seen him.

“Master…”

At that moment, an attendant entered and handed Yang Hao an invitation.

Yang Hao read it carefully, then fell into contemplation.

“What’s wrong? Who is inviting you?” Old Zhong asked.

“The Prince of Yan and his heir,” Yang Hao replied, troubled.

“Prince of Yan? Isn’t that the Lord Yu’s younger brother, the one who governs Chuzhou?” Old Zhong asked quickly.

He had spent enough time in Yu Kingdom to know of this Prince of Yan.

“That’s him. Everyone knows Lord Yu has no son; in a hundred years, the Prince of Yan will likely be the rightful heir,” Yang Hao said.

Throughout history, it was not uncommon for the throne to pass to a brother.

Unless something unexpected happened, this would be the case.

Now it was the Prince of Yan’s heir—why would he invite me?

There are banquets of all sizes; the one given by Lord Yu that day was a grand state banquet, intimidating the world.

But this Prince of Yan’s heir was not someone to be underestimated.

“Why would he invite you?” Old Zhong wondered aloud.

“I’ve already sent people to find out. The Prince of Yan’s heir should be in Chuzhou. I hadn’t heard he was in Fucheng—no idea when he arrived,” Yang Hao said, always preferring to plan ahead rather than act passively. “I just hope this doesn’t involve His Highness.”

He feared it might be a hidden threat.

Just then, Wang Chuan returned from outside. Although they were full of questions, they asked little.

They briefly informed Wang Chuan about Lu Hongjing’s visit, but he merely nodded, unconcerned.

Then they told him about the palace’s summons and the Prince of Yan’s heir’s invitation. Yang Hao hoped there was no connection between the two events.

That night, after tiring of reading, Yang Hao practiced martial arts.

He had recently become even more diligent.

If Wang Chuan noticed their progress, his mood seemed to improve, even showing a bit more expression than usual.

His Highness was indifferent to most matters, but talk of martial arts would always stir his enthusiasm.

This only motivated Yang Hao further.

Sitting in his room, eyes tightly shut, an uncontrollable aura of martial energy surged and flowed within him.

The technique Wang Chuan had given him was uniquely complementary—his progress was swift and harmonious.

He raised his hand, and formless energy swept forth, causing beds and other objects in the room to rustle and sending dust swirling.

With a booming sound, he released another surge of force; the gust burst open the window, his five fingers clawed the air, then swiftly closed it again.

He suddenly opened his eyes; a faint silvery sheen glazed their surface, clear and translucent.

A flash of white light seemed to pass by.

He rotated his neck, bones cracking audibly.

“No wonder people are obsessed with martial arts. The sense of accomplishment and satisfaction this power brings is unprecedented. Although the martial path is arduous…”

By now, his inner strength and true energy were likely the equal of an Earth-ranked martial artist.

He gathered his energy, and his aura instantly withdrew into stillness.

“But just what realm has His Highness reached? Is he only a Grandmaster?” Yang Hao wondered.

He knew there were great disparities among martial Grandmasters—some were as far apart as clouds and mud.

And with all the chaos in Fucheng, what other upheavals did the world hold in store?

What were His Highness and his companions waiting for?

Yang Hao could not fathom it.

So, for now, he set those thoughts aside and went to seek advice on his cultivation.

Wang Chuan explained everything thoroughly, with occasional succinct insights that clarified everything from the highest perspective.

What seemed ordinary in his words became revelations to Yang Hao, who was of only average talent—he suddenly saw everything with new clarity.

Only then did he understand: Wang Chuan now seemed to guide the waterfall itself, while he could only stand at the base, catching water in a basin or bowl to quench his thirst.

“I’m going to the palace,” Wang Chuan said, changing into another set of clothes.

“Take care, Your Highness.” Yang Hao hurriedly saluted and saw him off. “Then I’ll go meet the Prince of Yan’s heir and see what his intentions are.”

“He’s probably coming for me—not with good intentions,” Wang Chuan paused. “You might see Old Six at the banquet…”

“The Sixth Prince?” Yang Hao thought carefully about everyone the other party might know, and quickly realized he meant the Sixth Prince of Wei.

“That’s him. I’m not sure what opportunity he encountered, but after you mentioned him the other day, I made some calculations. His martial cultivation has probably reached the Heaven rank. It’s fortunate I wasn’t present that day, or he would have regretted it,” Wang Chuan said. “Forceful, hasty advancement does no good—even with current martial prowess, it’s like duckweed floating on water.”

Yang Hao nodded and committed this to memory.

…

In a refined, antique courtyard in Fucheng—

“Heaven rank… it came faster than I expected. How far am I now from Wang Chuan? Is it true, as rumored, that he has reached the Grandmaster realm?”

Clad in a purple-gold robe, the Sixth Prince slowly rose, powerful martial energy surging around his body.

The force howled, leaping like a dragon.

Invisible waves of energy rolled out from him, tearing nearby branches and withered wood to shreds.

“Not bad—so young, and already breaking through to Heaven rank. That’s a record for the past several decades,” a black-clad man said from not far away, offering congratulations.

“If not for the millennium blood ginseng and your sect’s use of vitality-consuming arts to temper my body, I could never have broken through so quickly,” the Sixth Prince replied earnestly. “Why isn’t Wang Chuan invited to this banquet? I want to see if he’s truly as formidable as the rumors say.”

“It’s indisputable that Wang Chuan defeated the Little Tiger King. Your Highness need not be impatient—there will be a chance to duel him. Otherwise, if Wang Chuan were here, he would surely outshine everyone again,” the man in black said. “What matters now is the greater plan—this banquet is meant for the Prince of Yan’s heir to make his mark, so all will know that Yu Kingdom needs just such a strong and outstanding prince as its ruler.”

With Lord Yu lacking an heir, many eyes coveted the throne.

Moreover, there were rumors of Wang Chuan and Xu Wei being deeply attached to each other. If they were to wed, the political situation would change dramatically.

Though the chances were slim, it was a possibility that had to be prevented.