Chapter 28: If the Ancestors Knew in the Afterlife

"How is it? How is it?" No sooner had Guo Yan recovered from his lingering fear than Zhao Hong rushed over to press him for an answer.

Guo Yan hailed from the Guo family of Wuwei Commandery, a prestigious clan in that region. Zhao Hong had been serving in Liangzhou for over five years, and from the moment he arrived, the local noble and powerful families had been scrutinizing his character.

Zhao Hong was originally from Zhending in Changshan. His ancestor was Zhao Guang, whose own father was the legendary founding general of Shu Han, Zhao Yun. Of course, the tides of time had passed, and by Zhao Hong’s generation, the connection was distant indeed.

Zhao Hong was a man of imposing stature, though his eyes were narrow and his eyelids often drooped. He maintained a perpetual, inscrutable smile, making it impossible to guess what he was truly thinking.

When he first arrived in Liangzhou, the local clans watched his every move. Initially, Zhao Hong acted with the vigor of a new official, using calculated measures to swiftly seize control of the situation and prevent the local powers from sidelining him. Once the local clans realized he was a formidable opponent and prepared to challenge him, Zhao Hong suddenly took a step back, opting for a conciliatory, harmonious approach.

The people of Liangzhou quickly understood: Zhao Hong likely just wanted to settle into his post comfortably. If the Liang Dynasty fell into chaos, they would cross that bridge when they came to it; if not, he was merely an official passing through—today he was here, tomorrow he could be gone. As long as things remained civil, that was enough. He had already demonstrated his strength, and the local clans knew better than to treat him like a fool; it was best for everyone to grant one another some face.

With this tacit understanding, Zhao Hong arranged for some of his own kinsmen to take up posts while generously accepting the talents offered by the local clans.

Guo Yan was one of these talents. However, being a man of cautious nature who happened to click with Zhao Hong’s penchant for taking things easy, he became his chief strategist.

At this moment, Guo Yan waved a hand, his head throbbing with discomfort. Probing the fortune of an entire province was a strain; he had only managed it because Zhao Hong, the Governor of Liangzhou, had permitted it and lent him the strength of his official aura. Without that, he would have lost years off his life.

"Wait a moment," Guo Yan said, not answering immediately as he organized his thoughts.

The shifts in Liangzhou's fortune were clearly linked to the mandate of a human ruler, which meant that the fortune of the Liang Dynasty itself must have changed. Otherwise, under the weight of the Liang Dynasty's momentum, such chaotic dragon spirits and ghosts would never have been permitted to stir.

After a long while, Guo Yan spoke, describing the trends of fortune to Zhao Hong.

Zhao Hong’s narrow eyes widened in shock—the first time Guo Yan had ever seen his master look so astonished.

"You mean... me?" Zhao Hong asked, caught between shock and excitement. Was he, perhaps, a son of destiny?

Everyone has dreams. Zhao Hong actually possessed a hidden ambition, as evidenced by his actions upon first arriving in Liangzhou, but he lacked persistence; he would start with great energy only to suddenly lose heart. His five years as an official in Liangzhou had only made him more indolent. Whenever Guo Yan comforted him, saying, "Do not worry, my lord, you are merely playing the pig to eat the tiger; one day you will roar and terrify them all," they would share a mutual understanding of these reassurances. Whether anyone else believed it didn't matter; they certainly did.

Now, a rare spark of ambition ignited in Zhao Hong again. After all, Liangzhou was changing, and he was the Governor.

Guo Yan sighed inwardly and said, "The trend of fortune stretches toward Hanyang Commandery, meaning the person triggering this change is in that direction, not in Wuwei. Furthermore, the fortune manifests as a dragon-horse, not a serpent. This indicates that the person is merely a regional ruler and likely lacks the ambition to contend for the empire. My lord, there is no need for excessive concern."

It was hard to tell if Zhao Hong was disappointed or otherwise, but he remained silent for a long time before suddenly saying, "Send men to Hanyang Commandery... and look into all twelve subordinate counties as well. I must see who this is."

Zhao Hong certainly did not wish for Liangzhou to have a new master. Yet, with a ruler's fortune rising, something momentous must be happening in Luoying; the priority was to find out what had befallen the young Emperor.

Human affairs were in turmoil because the Ziwei Emperor Star had dimmed and the Red Dragon of the Liang Dynasty’s fortune had been wounded.

But what of the Underworld?

People often speak of what their ancestors might know in the afterlife, but what if they truly did?

The Underworld of this world was vastly different. There were no Meng Po or Yama Halls; it was a boundless expanse of nothingness, without edge or end. Yet, across this barren void lay a chasm resembling a massive river. It flowed not with water, but with the various currents of energy surging from the world of the living.

These energies were churned together like roaring waves. Because of their fusion, one could occasionally glimpse scenes of commoners working in fields, officials entering the imperial court, the cries of newborns, the sighs of the dying, beggars freezing to death in the cold, or the wealthy surrounded by concubines and guests. The myriad states of human life flickered upon this river of energy, like bubbles that vanished in an instant.

On one side of this river, amidst the void, lay an area where righteous energy brewed, though it was permeated with a chilling, ghostly aura. Ghosts and gods—they were two sides of the same coin.

Usually, all was quiet, but as the dragon energy of the Liang Dynasty in the mortal realm shifted, the void of the Underworld began to quake. Sounds of weaponry and war horses echoed from the river of energy, followed by the cries of thousands and bones exposed in the fields—the omens of a chaotic era.

On the side of the ghosts and gods, a commotion erupted. Countless spirits coalesced and dispersed, whispering, "The human world changes, the human world changes! The fortune is ours! Blood sacrifices! Blood sacrifices!"

Yet, on the other side of the river, where it had been calm, dragon roars suddenly rang out. As the thick mist covering the Underworld parted, massive cities appeared, complete with imperial palaces and golden dragons of fortune coiling above them.

Some cities were vast, filled with souls. These were not the living, but the dead. The larger the city and the more potent the dragon of fortune above the palace, the more vivid the souls within, appearing almost as if they were alive. If a city fell to ruin, the dragon of fortune would wither, and the souls within would become dull and lethargic, eventually dissipating entirely to return their essence to heaven and earth.

One of these hundred-odd cities bore the character "Zhou" inscribed upon it. It had been silent for a long time; the souls within, aside from the great ministers of the Zhou Dynasty, had become dim-witted, and most had already dissipated. Because the Zhou Dynasty had fallen long ago and its descendants in the mortal realm had achieved nothing—not even producing a single ruler—there was no feedback from the living. The ancestors in the Underworld were exhausting their remaining reserves.

The dragon of fortune above the Zhou city was withered to the point that its horns had vanished, and even one of its claws was fading. Once that claw disappeared, it would lose its true dragon nature and become a serpent-like entity, signaling the end for the ministers struggling to maintain their consciousness.

The death of a person was not just their passing in the mortal world, but their final extinction in the void of the Underworld.

In the imperial palace of the Zhou city, Li Hongwu, the founding emperor of the Li-Zhou Dynasty, sat quietly on his throne. He was not a tall man, and his complexion was dark, but his thick eyebrows gave him a heroic and imposing air. Below him sat the successive emperors of his line, down to the last, twenty-seven-year-old, timid emperor who had lost the throne. In total, sixteen emperors, spanning 276 years, sat in the hall.

Not all were composed; some were distracted, but they dared not move under Li Hongwu’s gaze. The last emperor, Li Zong, did not even dare to lift his head. Since arriving in the Underworld, he had been beaten by Li Hongwu many times. He was not alone in this misery; recently, Zhu Zuo of the Liang Dynasty had been suffering even more, beaten day and night, alongside his father, Zhu Rong.

Li Zong was feeling a sense of schadenfreude when he felt the Zhou city shake. An earthquake? But there were no earthquakes in the void of the Underworld.

Then, he heard the roar of the river of energy and the cries of the ghosts and gods, the talk of "blood sacrifices" making his heart sink. What was happening?

Li Zong glanced at Li Hongwu, only to see the founder’s expression shift dramatically. Li Hongwu stood up, staring toward the top of the Zhou city. The other fifteen emperors looked up instinctively.

The withered dragon of fortune was suddenly moving, emitting roars that were not angry or mournful, but faintly joyful and excited. As the dragon surged, the city shook more violently, and new vitality began to emerge from the once-dead dragon veins.

A massive surge of fortune flowed in from the mortal realm. The dragon of fortune roared and swallowed it. As the fortune settled, the claw that had been fading suddenly solidified!

"This!" Li Hongwu was stunned, then clapped his hands in delight.

Good! This fortune was enough to coalesce the dragon; it meant that in the mortal world, the Li family had finally produced a descendant with the fortune of a ruler!

The other fifteen emperors realized this as well, their excitement mounting as they began to look at one another, wondering whose descendant this new ruler might be.

As the sixteen emperors of the Li-Zhou Dynasty rejoiced, the fortune at the Zhu family's Liang City—the most prosperous in the Underworld—suddenly stagnated.