Chapter Fifty: News of My Esteemed Mentor’s Passing

“Where is Li Zisheng?” A furious voice thundered from behind the screen.

Li Zisheng was taken aback, uncertain what sort of scheme the God of War was concocting.

“I am here,” he replied.

“Are you aware of your crime?” The anger behind the screen intensified.

“I do not know, General. I beg you to enlighten me,” Li Zisheng answered, his confusion growing.

“Do you realize that because of you, many of the Great Tang’s renowned scholars have been decapitated? That our dynasty’s pillars have been lost?” The voice that followed was seething with rage.

General Huang Li and the white-haired elder listened as if the words meant nothing to them; they merely watched Li Zisheng in silence. Nowadays, the eminent scholars of the Great Tang—those crucial ministers—had been assassinated time and again, and yet the court remained helpless, as if a sharp thorn had lodged in the heart of the empire.

If this thorn were not removed, the ritual to Heaven atop Mount Tai would inevitably be marred by chaos; the heavenly sacrifice would not proceed smoothly.

The Turks were cunning and cruel, but the Great Tang’s upper echelons lacked tangible evidence. They could not strike directly, for if they turned hostile without proof, the conflict would escalate, and the Turks would have legitimate grounds for war.

Without justification or evidence, the Great Tang would be remembered in history as a bully, a tyrant—an ignoble reputation.

The Emperor could no longer endure this, and so he issued a deathly decree: before the ritual at Mount Tai, this matter must be resolved completely. Most importantly, the Emperor demanded not just a resolution, but a perfect one—the mastermind must die, and die by dismemberment.

Only then could the spirits of the slain scholars find peace; only then would the souls of Tang’s heroes be comforted.

“Zisheng, I do not understand the General’s meaning,” Li Zisheng said, bewildered by the God of War’s words.

“Do you realize that because of you, your mentor is dead? That because of you, your mentor sought your uncle and your grandmaster? Do you know that these reclusive scholars were all assassinated? Do you understand the disaster you have wrought?”

A hand slammed into the table behind the screen, the anger undiminished. In the midst of rage, the sound of splitting wood could be heard, revealing just how furious the figure behind the screen truly was.

But at this moment, Li Zisheng was no longer concerned with what the person behind the screen thought.

His mind was a whirl of the news that his mentor had been murdered. Memories and the gentle reproach of his teacher’s voice echoed in his head; scenes of past days replayed.

It felt like a dream—none of it seemed real.

His mentor had come to Tianshui Village intending to live out his years, to write and cultivate the literary tradition, just like the reclusive scholars, quietly contributing his wisdom. Had he not met Li Zisheng, he would never have stepped into the world, never have fallen victim to assassination.

The General was right—Li Zisheng was indeed at fault. It was he who caused his mentor’s death, who drew his teacher out of seclusion and into the political vortex, leading to his destruction.

“General, what are your orders? Please instruct me,” Li Zisheng soon regained his composure. His expression was cold, emotionless, and his eyes held a deep, quiet deathly stillness.

General Huang Li and the white-haired elder noticed this change. Though outwardly nothing had shifted, Li Zisheng’s aura was no longer that of an eight-year-old child. The atmosphere around him was suffused with a chilling aura—a silence like death, so calm it was terrifying.

“Oh? You think I won’t kill you? Because of you, our dynasty lost several eminent scholars.” The voice behind the screen was suddenly calm, with no trace of anger.

It was as if the earlier fury had been a deliberate act.

But Li Zisheng no longer cared. His heart was fixed on a single purpose—to avenge his mentor. His teacher was a mountain of kindness to him, the most important figure in his life.

“General, if you wish to kill me, do so. No need to waste time. But…”

Li Zisheng stopped speaking, his tone still cold.

“But what?” came a questioning voice from behind the screen.

“I suspect the General values my abilities. I imagine my life’s story is already laid out on your desk, even details from three generations past. Assign this case to me and it will be handled.”

Li Zisheng’s words were calm and icy.

“Do you understand how vast the implications of this case are?”

“If you fail, you face heavenly punishment—execution at the Meridian Gate, and your entire family will suffer unrest.”

“So, do you dare take it on?” The voice behind the screen pressed on, each sentence heavier than the last.

“Mankind’s fate is determined by Heaven; what is there I do not dare? My life is but a fleeting cloud to me. However, I ask the General to care for my family in my absence. I would be deeply grateful.”

Li Zisheng was certain now—the God of War sought him for this case, to investigate the murder of the scholars. He was most deeply entangled in the matter and could not shirk responsibility.

“Very well. Until you conclude the investigation, no one will harm your family. But if you fail, you must bear the wrath of thunder.”

“Thank you, General.” Li Zisheng bowed. He knew this investigation would be fraught with peril, and he would not allow his loved ones to be harmed.

He accepted the case without hesitation, for the murdered man was his mentor—the very one who guided him in this world, the deeply respected Master Cheng.

“Good. I hereby appoint you as Inspector of the Twenty-two Prefectures of Guannei Dao. Though this post carries no official rank, you are granted imperial authority to act at your discretion. General Huang Li will serve as your military escort, and Master Zhong Bai as your advisor. Proceed at once to the prefecture of Lingzhou and meet the Turkic delegation.”

This appointment left everyone present stunned—it was an extraordinary commission.

The Inspector of the Twenty-two Prefectures of Guannei Dao, although not officially ranked, was equivalent to a third-rank minister of the court. With imperial sanction to act freely, it was almost unbelievable.

With such authority, Li Zisheng could wield power across Guannei Dao—judging nobles and punishing commoners alike, his influence unrivaled.

“I obey,” Li Zisheng replied. Though his expression remained composed, his eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion. He was thoroughly astonished by the figure behind the screen, now certain that this God of War was far more than the Grand General of Lingzhou.

He must be a man of immense power.