Chapter 529 Facing the New Emperor

A glint flashed in Zhao Yan's eyes as he slowly raised his head and looked toward the garden gate.

A young man dressed in a black robe was seen walking slowly towards them, led by a eunuch.

He walked with a composed gait, his posture upright like a pine tree, his face handsome, yet his brows held a profound and weathered air, a weight of experience that came with weathering many storms.

Their eyes met, and time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Zhao Yan's heart skipped a beat.

He had assumed that the "Sword God" who could single-handedly force back the Japanese Emperor must be a seasoned middle-aged hero or a peerless master with an aura as deep as the ocean.

But the person in front of him was even younger than himself! What shocked him even more was that when he used the royal secret internal energy cultivation technique that he had cultivated with countless treasures, he could not sense any fluctuations of true energy in the other party's body at all!

Shen Mo stood there, looking like an ordinary scholar, without a trace of the fierce aura of a martial artist.

This return to simplicity made Zhao Yan, the emperor who considered himself the ruler of the world, feel a chill from the bottom of his heart for the first time.

Shen Mo was also sizing up the young emperor.

He could tell at a glance that the purity and depth of the internal energy flowing within Zhao Yan's body were no less than that of the leaders of the Nine Sects!

This secretly alarmed him. For a pampered emperor to possess such martial arts skills showed that the court's investment in and understanding of martial arts far exceeded the imagination of the martial arts world.

When his gaze turned to the old man playing chess with Zhao Yan, his surprise surged even more intensely.

Although the old man had his eyes closed and was concentrating, Shen Mo could clearly sense that the power dormant within him was like a bottomless ocean. His level of cultivation was so high that it was comparable to the twelve masters of the Heavenly Demon God Sect! The imperial court had actually quietly cultivated such a terrifying expert!

"This humble subject, Shen Mo, greets Your Majesty." Shen Mo regained his composure, stepped forward, and bowed deeply to Zhao Yan according to the etiquette of the martial world.

"How dare you!" the eunuch leading the way shouted shrilly upon seeing this, "Why don't you kneel before the Emperor!"

Shen Mo frowned almost imperceptibly, about to speak, when Zhao Yan laughed loudly, "No need for formalities! The 'Sword God' is a legend of the martial world. I summoned you here today to discuss the Dao, not to interrogate you. Why be bound by such formalities? Bring a seat!"

Zhao Yan acted extremely magnanimously, as if the eunuch's reprimand had never happened.

He waved his hand, signaling the servants to bring over a brocade stool.

However, behind his seemingly gentle smile, Shen Mo saw a pair of sharp, hawk-like eyes, full of scrutiny and calculation.

He knew that this young emperor was not as simple as he appeared.

Shen Mo sat down as instructed. The brocade bench was cold, but it was far less chilling than the sense of dread he felt for the emperor's schemes.

The Imperial Garden is filled with the fragrance of flowers and the melodious chirping of birds, but beneath this seemingly tranquil scene, undercurrents surge and danger lurks everywhere.

The old man with white hair and beard remained with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. But Shen Mo could clearly feel that his every move and every breath was being watched by those unseen eyes.

The new emperor, Zhao Yan, picked up a celadon teacup, gently blew away the foam, his movements elegant and composed, as if he were truly a refined scholar inviting friends to enjoy tea.

However, when he raised his eyes, his gaze was like two sharp swords tempered with ice, piercing straight into Shen Mo's heart, and that feigned ease instantly crumbled.

"Young Master Shen," Zhao Yan's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable penetrating power, "I have long heard of your reputation in the martial world, and today, having seen the true face of the 'Sword God,' I find it indeed lives up to its name. I have three questions; I wonder if you, young master, would be willing to answer them for me?"

Shen Mo clasped his hands in a fist salute, his expression calm: "Your Majesty, please speak."

Zhao Yan slowly set down the teacup, his fingertips lightly tapping the smooth porcelain surface, producing a crisp sound, as if questioning the human heart. "People say that the martial world exists outside the imperial court, outside the law. Knights use their martial arts to break the law, seeking revenge with gusto, unrestrained and free. But I observe that within the martial world, sects abound, rules are strict, and the cruelty and ruthlessness of their infighting sometimes surpass even those of the imperial court. So, young hero Shen, do you believe this so-called 'martial world' is truly a place of transcendence, or... another 'mini-court' cloaked in chivalry?"

The moment this question was posed, the air inside the pavilion seemed to freeze.

If Situ Dengfeng were here, he would be drenched in sweat; if Murong Qing were here, she might be sweating bullets for her husband. This isn't an inquiry; it's a psychological attack!

Zhao Yan's words hit the nail on the head, piercing the veil of "order" hidden beneath the glamorous facade of the martial arts world.

He wanted to tell Shen Mo that no matter how high your martial arts skills are, you can never escape the constraints of the word "rules".

Shen Mo sighed inwardly. This young emperor was indeed extraordinary.

He raised his head, his gaze clear, meeting Zhao Yan's scrutinizing eyes, and said loudly, "What Your Majesty says is merely the surface of the martial world. In my humble opinion, the martial world is not found in mountains and rivers, nor within sects. The martial world is the scale in people's hearts. Some use it to weigh grudges, hence the joy of revenge; some use it to weigh morality, hence the willingness to sacrifice oneself for righteousness; and some use it to weigh power, hence the deceit and treachery. The martial world is no larger than the human heart; the martial world is no more dangerous than selfish desires. The true martial world is not outside the imperial court, but within the confines of each individual's heart."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yan's eyes flashed with surprise, which quickly turned into deep thought.

He never expected that this "Sword God," renowned throughout the world for his swordsmanship, would give such a philosophical answer.

He nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but he had already deeply imprinted Shen Mo's words "the scales of human hearts" in his heart.

After a brief pause, Zhao Yan posed his second question, his tone even more grave. "An ancient saying goes, 'The greatest heroes are those who serve their country and its people.' But in today's world, so-called heroes either slaughter entire families for personal gain or stir up bloodshed in sectarian conflicts. Even worse, some, like the Sword God, can single-handedly shake the very foundations of a nation. So, when an individual's 'chivalry' clashes with the 'public good,' how should one conduct oneself? Should one wield a sword against the heavens, or bow down and submit?"

This question directly addresses Shen Mo's core predicament.

He defeated the Japanese Emperor for the sake of his country and people, a heroic act; but what about his refusal to become the leader of the martial arts alliance, and even his arrangement for the Heavenly Demon Sect to remotely pressure the northern tribes of the desert to resolve the crisis of the martial arts alliance? Is he a hero or a bandit?

Shen Mo remained silent for a moment, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the sword at his waist.

He recalled Luo Wangchen's teachings, the sigh of Li Er's lingering soul, and the trusting eyes of Murong Qing. His voice was low and firm: "A knight-errant is not for fame, not for profit, and certainly not for power. A knight-errant is a choice. It is choosing the most difficult path, yet the one with the clearest conscience, from among thousands of paths. Serving the country and its people is the ultimate goal of a knight-errant; protecting those around us is also the duty of a knight-errant. If the 'public good' of the world comes at the cost of sacrificing the innocent and trampling on morality, then such 'public good' is not worth having! A true knight-errant has a sword in hand and a ruler in his heart, not enslaved by external things, nor subdued by power. He can be a pillar of the court or a lone goose in the martial world, but he will never be anyone's pawn."

These words were powerful and resounding.

The old man, who had been resting with his eyes closed, twitched his eyelids slightly, seemingly moved by these words.

Zhao Yan's expression became somewhat complicated, showing both admiration and a hint of barely perceptible apprehension.

He realized that the young man before him possessed a more powerful spiritual core than he had imagined.