Chapter 57 Triumphant Return to Court, the Emperor's Heart Remains Unfathomable

Three days later, Qishan Camp.

The faint light of dawn had just pierced the horizon when the silent camp was awakened by the heavy and orderly sound of hoofbeats.

At the main gate of the camp, tens of thousands of soldiers spontaneously lined up, their eyes fixed intently on the distance.

A troop appeared.

Fewer than two thousand in number, their armor was tattered, and everyone was wounded; the crimson blood had long since congealed into a dark black.

But this army carried a monstrous Evil Qi from surviving a hundred battles, their backs held straight as if they were peerless lethal weapons that had just tasted blood and returned to their sheaths.

At the very front of the troop was Crown Prince Zi Shou.

Behind him were the dejected leaders of the Seventeen Dongyi Tribes, bound by ropes.

A triumph.

There were no earth-shattering cheers, only a solemn awe that spread throughout the camp.

Zi Shou flipped off his horse, his armor plates clashing with a crisp sound.

He did not walk toward Emperor Yi's royal carriage that had come to receive him, but instead walked straight through the crowd.

He strode toward the most inconspicuous tent, the one belonging to Chen Yuan.

“Brother Chen!”

Zi Shou stopped three paces before the tent and gave a deep bow toward the tightly closed door.

The thousand-plus remaining soldiers behind him moved in unison, kneeling on one knee toward the tent and striking their chests with their fists.

“Our thanks to the Qilin for granting us life!”

The voices merged into a torrent, shaking the heavens and the earth.

The tent curtain was lifted, and Chen Yuan, dressed in white, stepped out slowly.

He glanced at the blood-soaked Zi Shou, then at the group of soldiers with fanatical gazes behind him, his expression remaining calm.

“Your Highness has worked hard.”

“It was no hardship!”

Zi Shou straightened up, the light in his eyes burning hot; he grabbed Chen Yuan's arm and turned to the entire camp, his voice echoing through the clouds.

“The primary credit for this battle goes not to me, Zi Shou, nor to the three thousand soldiers, but to the Guardian Qilin, Chen Yuan!”

“Before Broken Soul Ravine, had it not been for Brother Chen's brilliant plan, we would have already turned into withered bones!”

“Beneath the Altar of God, had it not been for Brother Chen's flawless calculations, how could we have slain a god on the battlefield!”

His gaze then fell upon Huang Yuerong, who was supported by personal guards with her left arm in a sling across her chest.

“The secondary credit for this battle goes to General Huang Yuerong! With her Mortal body, she stood firm against immortal Magic Treasures, carving out a glimmer of hope for the entire army! Such bravery and ferocity should be an example for our Great Shang!”

The eyes of the soldiers throughout the camp moved back and forth between Chen Yuan and Huang Yuerong.

One was the wisdom that devised strategies within a tent and decided victory a thousand miles away.

The other was the peerless, fierce courage that disregarded life and death.

At this moment, everyone felt a new, heartfelt awe for the title 'twin gems of chaoge.'

Inside the royal tent, the celebratory banquet had already been set.

Emperor Yi sat in the primary seat with a monarch's smile, accepting congratulations from the officials and generals.

But his gaze never left the three people below.

Crown Prince Zi Shou was holding a wine cup, laughing as he toasted with Chen Yuan, calling him 'Brother Chen' repeatedly, behaving not like ruler and subject, but like true brothers.

Huang Yuerong sat not far away; although she couldn't drink due to her injuries, her bright Phoenix eyes constantly followed Chen Yuan's figure.

In that gaze, there was gratitude, admiration, and a hint of complex emotion she herself hadn't noticed.

As for Chen Yuan, he remained as composed and indifferent as ever toward the Prince's enthusiasm.

He handled the toasts from the generals with ease and was perfectly composed.

In a corner where no one noticed, Emperor Yi's knuckles slowly tightened, and the bronze wine vessel was slightly deformed by his grip.

Wisdom bordering on the demonic.

The Prince's heart.

The daughter of a general's house.

These three forces were now tightly entwined.

Chen Yuan, the child who had made his father feel fear thirteen years ago, had now grown to a point that made even him feel trepidation.

“Can prosper Shang... can also... overthrow Shang...”

The late King King Wending of Shang's deathbed edict echoed repeatedly in Emperor Yi's ears like a curse.

Amidst the noise of clinking cups, the string of suspicion in his heart tightened completely, emitting a hum as if it were about to snap.

After three rounds of wine, Emperor Yi raised his hand and suppressed all the noise.

The moment to reward merit had arrived.

“Crown Prince Zi Shou!” Emperor Yi's majestic voice rang out.

“Your subject is here!” Zi Shou stepped forward and knelt on one knee.

“You took command in a time of crisis, slew the demonic Daoist on the battlefield, and enhanced the prestige of our Great Shang; yours is the primary merit!” Emperor Yi's voice was resonant.

“I command you to oversee the troops of Zhaoge, and grant you ten thousand taels of gold and a hundred fine horses!”

“Thank you, Father King!” A flash of joy crossed Zi Shou's eyes as he loudly accepted the command.

“Huang Yuerong!”

“Your general is here!” Huang Yuerong stood up and also knelt on one knee.

“You risked your life to protect your lord, your bravery is supreme among the three armies, and you have lived up to the reputation of your general's lineage. I appoint you as the Female Guardian General, and grant you a manor and three thousand taels of gold!”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Huang Yuerong's voice was crisp, but there wasn't much joy on her face.

The atmosphere in the royal tent reached its peak. Everyone's gaze was focused on the last person.

With the rewards for the Crown Prince and Huang Yuerong being so generous, what kind of extraordinary reward would the greatest contributor to quelling this chaos receive?

What kind of earth-shattering reward would the Guardian Qilin, Chen Yuan, receive?

Would he be made a Marquis? Or appointed as Chancellor?

Emperor Yi's gaze slowly fell upon Chen Yuan.

The tent instantly fell silent, so quiet that a falling needle could be heard.

Emperor Yi looked at that face, which was as calm as still water, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke slowly.

“Guardian Qilin, Chen Yuan.”

“Your subject is here.” Chen Yuan stepped forward and bowed slightly.

“With your brilliant plan, you decided victory from a thousand miles away; your matchless resourcefulness is also a great merit.”

Emperor Yi paused, and everyone in the tent held their breath.

“I... appoint you as Lord Wende, with an estate of three hundred households. Furthermore, I grant you one thousand taels of gold and a hundred bolts of silk to recognize your merit.”

The words fell.

The entire royal tent was deathly silent.

Lord Wende?

A complete honorary title.

An estate of three hundred households, a thousand taels of gold, and a hundred bolts of silk would be a generous reward for an ordinary official.

But for a merit like Chen Yuan's, which stabilized the state, this was simply an insult!

Dismay and confusion appeared on the faces of all the generals.

Some sharp-minded civil officials instantly lowered their heads, focusing their gaze inward.

They understood.

The King was suppressing him, warning him.

The Qilin can be used, but must never be given significant power!

“Father King!” Zi Shou stood up abruptly, his face full of disbelief and anger.

“Brother Chen's merit this time...”

“Sit down!” Emperor Yi barked coldly, interrupting Zi Shou.

The monarch's majesty was like a mountain, pressing down on Zi Shou until his face turned red, yet he had no choice but to sit down slowly.

For a moment, all eyes were focused on Chen Yuan.

People wanted to see his reaction. Was it anger? Resentment? Or would he argue his case?

However, there was still no ripple on Chen Yuan's face.

He took a step forward, gave another deep bow to Emperor Yi on the throne, and there was even a faint smile on his lips.

“Your subject, Chen Yuan, thanks Your Majesty for your great grace.”

His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears.

Calm and composed, as if what he had received was not a meager reward, but a natural honor.

Emperor Yi stared at him intently, trying to discern even the slightest hint of emotion from those deep eyes.

But he failed.

Those eyes were like an ancient well, bottomless, reflecting nothing—not even the suspicion and testing of his monarch.

At this moment, the chill in Emperor Yi's heart was more surging than the defeat of Eastern Yi.

He realized that he might not be facing a subject at all.

But an opponent... who was playing the same game of chess but always saw three steps further.