Chapter Forty-Nine: The Demise of the Great Scholar

The results were out—Li Zisheng emerged as the ultimate winner. Most astonishing was that in the end, the white-haired elder actually handed Li Zisheng a pass to the Lingzhou military camp. This was no mere sign of favor; it was an unmistakable gesture of wanting to cultivate him as a trusted confidant.

Liang Fu’s eyes burned with overwhelming jealousy at the conclusion, while Jiang Lin, though silent, gazed coldly at Liang Fu. Anyone favored by the Grand General was absolutely not to be embroiled in conflict.

After an hour, Li Zisheng received a flood of well-wishes, all congratulating him on being recognized by the Grand General and predicting that he would rise swiftly through the ranks and soar to great heights. Though somewhat weary from all the attention, Li Zisheng responded with polite smiles, saying little and doing even less.

The white-haired elder reappeared. Despite the passing hour, the crowd’s enthusiasm had not diminished in the slightest. As soon as the elder was seen, a hush fell over the plaza, and countless eyes focused intently on Li Zisheng.

“Li Zisheng, come with me.”

A resounding voice rang out from beyond the stands. Li Zisheng turned toward the source and saw a formidable, armored general wielding a cavalry saber, standing atop a giant boulder outside the viewing platform. His position was higher than the stands, looking down upon the assembled crowd.

Noticing this armored general, the white-haired elder’s expression grew stern, a hint of displeasure flickering in his eyes as he regarded the general atop the boulder.

Li Zisheng, too, took note of this. Clearly, even under the command of the God of War, there were factions at play. When he met the God of War, he would need to tread carefully, wary of any sudden turns of fate.

“General Huang Li, you go too far,” said the white-haired elder, voicing his displeasure directly, unconcerned with what others might think.

The armored general atop the boulder paid no heed to the elder’s words. He simply watched Li Zisheng, waiting for his response.

Li Zisheng was no fool—this was surely the God of War’s first test for him.

He wanted to see if Li Zisheng could judge people wisely, to discern whose weight carried more. First, the God of War had sent the elder, then General Huang Li, both seemingly to show him favor, but in truth, it was a test of his discernment.

This was a scenario Li Zisheng had encountered countless times in his previous life. In fact, the human resources director of his own company had once demonstrated this very tactic for him. He hadn’t expected to see it play out before his eyes again.

“General, I was summoned by this gentleman’s order first. Respecting the order of things is only proper,” Li Zisheng replied directly to General Huang Li’s inquiry.

“Do you know who holds the greatest power in this Huiluo Army?” General Huang Li asked, unfazed by Li Zisheng’s answer, his gaze steady.

“I do not,” Li Zisheng replied, standing tall with the pride of a scholar, refusing to bow.

“Very well. Come, the general is waiting for you,” said Huang Li, leaping from the boulder and leaving the arena without another glance at Li Zisheng.

The white-haired elder’s eyes, which had been calm, now shimmered with admiration as he looked at Li Zisheng.

Noticing this shift, Li Zisheng suddenly understood the intention behind the God of War’s maneuverings. The depth of such strategy was remarkable—he read people’s hearts with uncanny clarity.

Had he chosen the more authoritative General Huang Li, his outcome would have been quite different. Warriors value loyalty; scholars value integrity.

A scholar with strong principles easily wins the admiration of his peers. Anyone who attacks someone they’ve recognized is, in effect, attacking themselves—a grave insult, for a scholar values honor above all, and such humiliation is worse than death.

By choosing the elder, Li Zisheng had, without realizing it, gained a natural shield—someone who would protect him. If he had chosen General Huang Li, he would have been seen as a sycophant who clings to power.

Such subtle strategy: a test of his character, and if he chose wisely, a safeguard for himself; if he failed, he would merely gain another adversary, which was of little consequence.

Now, Li Zisheng was deeply curious about the true nature of this God of War. What sort of person would value him so highly, bestowing such a gift before they had even met?

As the saying goes, unsolicited kindness always carries a motive. The God of War had given him such a favor for no apparent reason; surely, he expected something in return. This was something Li Zisheng, with all his experience, understood well—no one helps another for nothing.

Following the elder quietly, Li Zisheng pondered what the God of War truly wanted of him, and what role he was meant to play—questions he could not yet answer.

“General, Zhong Bai requests an audience,” the elder announced outside the command tent, bowing deeply as he awaited a response.

“Come in,” came a calm voice from within. To Li Zisheng, it sounded oddly familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before.

He entered and stood quietly to one side. The general was still giving orders to Huang Li, showing no intention of concealing anything from Li Zisheng.

“General, the Turks have once again, under the guise of cultural exchange, assassinated three more of our nation’s great scholars: Xie Fengkun from Qinzhou, Zhou Huaqiang from Lingzhou, and Liu Fayü from Bingzhou,” Huang Li reported, his tone dark and barely contained fury evident—so different from his earlier, impassive demeanor atop the boulder.

Behind a screen at the head of the tent sat the God of War, his figure obscured. Yet as Huang Li finished his report, the atmosphere within the tent grew heavy and tense.

“Well played, Turks. Well played. Truly a people deserving of death,” came the deep, resonant voice from behind the screen. Though there was no overt anger in his tone, the underlying menace was unmistakable.

Li Zisheng listened intently to the report. At last, the storm raging behind the scenes had revealed itself.

Great scholars were the pillars of the nation—each one a rare treasure. The Turks’ assassination of these men was a clear attempt to sever the roots of the Tang Dynasty, especially at this critical moment of the Taishan Fengshan ceremony. Such actions were nothing short of a provocation.

Yet, since General Huang Li used the word “assassination,” it was clear he lacked concrete evidence against the Turks, which explained his helpless fury.

“Where is Li Zisheng?”