Chapter 97: The Vermilion Bird of the Ming Dynasty

The Imperial Capital of the Great Ming Dynasty.

Within the towering palace walls lay a spacious square stretching a hundred paces in every direction.

The Jiajing Emperor stood there, clad in his five-clawed golden dragon robe, crowned with the imperial diadem, hands clasped behind his back.

Behind him, two elderly ministers dressed in crimson Ming official robes stood respectfully, slightly bowing as they attended him.

“Weizhong, tell me, how confident are we in taming this divine beast?” the Jiajing Emperor asked slowly.

At that moment, the sky displayed an extraordinary phenomenon.

A vast crimson cloud, the size of a hundred acres, billowed and surged at the distant horizon, as if something was about to burst forth at any moment.

Among the two ministers, the one who appeared older and more weathered brightened upon hearing the Emperor’s question directed at him first.

In stark contrast, the other minister’s face instantly fell, as if mourning a great loss.

“Your Majesty is divinely mighty, the foremost man of our age. Even if a celestial beast descends from the heavens, it is but a minor trial on Your Majesty’s path to immortality. Failure is simply impossible,” he flattered skillfully.

Flattery is not about flowery words or elaborate phrases; the key is to say what pleases the listener.

Upon hearing the words “path to immortality,” a faint smile indeed appeared on the Jiajing Emperor’s face.

“Well said! This battle, I will surely triumph! I shall not let Weizhong or the civil and military officials down!” the Emperor declared with vigor.

Weizhong was the courtesy name of Yan Song, the Grand Secretary of Ming.

Yan Song remained bent forward, resembling a boiled old shrimp.

Yet, he cast a sidelong glance at his colleague, his eyes seemingly saying: Did you hear that? In the Emperor’s eyes, the Ming ministers are only two names: ‘Weizhong’ and ‘the civil and military officials.’

Xu Jie felt Yan Song’s gaze; though he possessed profound cultivation at the eighth grade of the He Dao realm, a wave of helplessness rose within him.

“Alas… why can I not outmatch Yan Song?” Xu Jie sighed inwardly.

While the two elderly men schemed against each other, a sudden birdcall echoed from the crimson cloud on the horizon!

The birdcall was clear and piercing, seeming to penetrate heaven and earth.

Yet, aside from the crimson cloud, the Jiajing Emperor, Yan Song, and Xu Jie still saw no sign of the divine beast.

Then, the unexpected happened!

The crimson cloud shrank continuously until it condensed and took form—a stunningly beautiful giant scarlet bird!

The scarlet giant bird solidified its true body and at once locked its gaze on its target: the Jiajing Emperor.

“Well arrived!” the Emperor sensed its gaze without any fear or retreat, instead moving forward to meet it.

Man and bird met a hundred paces above the ground, then, in an instant, both vanished.

“Prime Minister, this is the Heavenly Dao initiating the ‘Battle for Mastery,’” Xu Jie whispered.

Yan Song sneered, “Old and ignorant as I am, thank you, Huating, for your enlightening guidance.”

Xu Jie detected the sarcastic tone but inwardly felt a surge of pride.

Perhaps he could not surpass Yan Song in imperial favor.

But when it came to scholarship, he—the Ming Dynasty’s acknowledged foremost Confucian scholar—was not to be outdone by Yan Song.

As Xu Jie thought this, Yan Song’s eyes already saw through his thoughts.

Born of the Hanlin Academy?

A man well-read and erudite?

Able to discern instantly that the Emperor and the divine bird’s disappearance was due to the Heavenly Dao drawing them into a special space for the ‘Battle for Mastery’—indeed, Xu Jie was learned and talented.

But what Xu Jie knew, Yan Song surely knew as well.

In truth, many in Ming had forgotten.

A century ago, Yan Song had also served as a scholar in the Hanlin Academy.

Before becoming the widely reviled treacherous prime minister, Yan Song was once the Ming’s foremost Confucian master!

“Young man, give you ten more years and you still won’t beat me,” Yan Song glanced coldly at Xu Jie, sneering inwardly.

The two stood silently in the empty square, awaiting the final outcome of the ‘Battle for Mastery.’

Time trickled by.

Days and nights passed until, seven days later, a strange crack appeared in the serene sky.

On the square, the Grand Secretary and his deputy, who had remained statuesque like carved stone, finally moved.

Both knelt simultaneously, respectfully welcoming the triumphant return of the Ming Emperor!

Sure enough, a towering figure stepped forth from the rift—the Jiajing Emperor himself.

Seven days of fierce battle had passed, yet the Emperor still radiated vigor, showing no sign of fatigue.

However, his five-clawed golden dragon robe bore clear scratches, tears, and scorch marks, evidence of the intense struggle.

Both Yan Song and Xu Jie’s gazes fixated on the Emperor’s left shoulder.

There perched a fiery red fledgling, no larger than a sparrow.

Docile and gentle, utterly devoid of its earlier ferocity.

“Your Majesty, what is this?” Yan Song asked, astonished.

“Hahaha!” the Jiajing Emperor laughed heartily. “The ‘Battle for Mastery’ is blessed by the Heavenly Dao, so the divine beast’s power is considerable. But after such a fierce struggle, it must naturally revert to its juvenile form.”

Yan Song adopted a respectful demeanor, greatly satisfying the Emperor’s vanity.

Xu Jie watched the exchange between ruler and minister and only then grasped the subtle flavor of their words.

“Old Yan Song feigns ignorance on purpose?”

“Playing dumb and still managing to please the Emperor?”

“Have I lost because I wasn’t ignorant enough, nor shameless enough?”

Xu Jie’s mood was like finishing a bowl of porridge only to find a lump of rat droppings at the bottom.

He trembled with discomfort but refused to concede defeat.

Finally, biting his lip, Xu Jie said, “Your Majesty’s taming of the divine beast greatly enhances our dynasty’s fortune. I request permission to compose a hundred poems in celebration of Your Majesty!”

“Oh?” The Jiajing Emperor paused briefly, then nodded with satisfaction. “I have always admired Huating’s writings, but you are often busy with state affairs and rarely have time to compose poems. Today, with the taming of the divine beast, indeed a hundred fine works should emerge.”

Xu Jie hastily knelt and kowtowed, accepting the order.

Yet his heart was a mixture of joy and sorrow.

He was glad to have finally won the Emperor’s favor but troubled that his actions resembled those of a sycophantic minor official.

Seeing this, Yan Song snorted coldly. “Old fellow, you dare compete with this Grand Secretary for favor?”

He cleared his throat and smiled obsequiously. “The arrival of the divine beast is truly an auspicious sign. I shall immediately proclaim it so the world may know that Your Majesty is a wise and holy ruler.”

“Hmm! Weizhong, you are truly meticulous!” The Jiajing Emperor nodded repeatedly. “No wonder you are my appointed Grand Secretary, a model for all officials.”

Xu Jie, still kneeling, nearly choked upon hearing this.

Yan Song continued, “The divine beast has appeared, but we do not yet know its name. Your Majesty’s naming it will aid in spreading its fame throughout the realm.”

“Name the divine beast?” The Jiajing Emperor’s eyes gleamed, clearly delighted.

He pondered for a long moment, then finally uttered a name that pleased himself.

“I hereby name it the Vermilion Bird of the Great Ming!”

Yan Song immediately bowed, proclaiming, “The Great Ming is vast and unrivaled in the world! Its brilliance shall endure for all eternity!”

“Well said, well said, Weizhong! Hahaha!” The Emperor laughed heartily, his voice echoing endlessly throughout the palace.

Xu Jie was utterly shocked!

The Great Ming is vast and unrivaled?

The Great Ming’s brilliance shall endure forever?

The eighteen characters Yan Song spoke so effortlessly were breathtakingly magnificent. What boundless talent!

Xu Jie finally understood: he was no match for Yan Song.

In wit and shamelessness alike, Yan Song far surpassed him!

“At least for the next ten years, I shall not contend with Yan Song…” Xu Jie thought sorrowfully.