He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

"You ask why I'm so strong?"

"It's not something you were born with."

"It was I myself who climbed up to this level, step by step."

"People all grow. Why are you so sure that if you start out weak, you will end up being the weakest one?"

The imperial study was so quiet that one could hear the moonlight falling to the ground.

Zhou Zhen stood there, looking at the fifteen-year-old emperor, and suddenly felt as if a wad of cotton was stuck in his throat.

What he wanted to say was, "You're lying," "This isn't fair," and "Why can you succeed just by working hard, while I've worked so hard for so long and still can't do anything?"

But he couldn't say anything.

Because he knew that what the boy said was true.

Those eyes, those eyes as calm as a stagnant pool, did not lie.

He suddenly remembered the day he came into this world.

He opened his eyes and saw the carved beams and painted rafters, the brocade and silk bedding, and the maids and servants filling the room.

He smiled.

He knew he came from a good family, knew he must be the weakest of the ten reincarnators, and knew that the strong ones were suffering somewhere in this world.

He smiled.

Then he continued to laugh.

I've been laughing for thirteen years.

He spends his days reading, admiring flowers, and drinking tea, living like a true rich young master, indulging in a life of leisure and idleness.

He told himself it was a strategy—wait for the stronger ones to make the first move, wait for them to reveal their weaknesses, wait for them to fight to the death, and then strike a fatal blow.

But he knew it wasn't true.

He's just lazy.

I'm just afraid.

I just don't want to struggle in hell like those strong people.

The young man in front of him had an even better background than him, yet he worked ten thousand times harder.

"I lost."

His voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable.

"It's not that you lost because of your lack of ability."

"The reason I lost is that I've never fought as hard as you have."

After saying this, Zhou Zhen bit down and crushed the poison pill stuck between his teeth.

Yun Yi watched as his body slowly collapsed.

It was not stopped.

He only glanced at Mo Wendao, who was still struggling, and saw him there.

Yun Yi withdrew his gaze.

"Someone come here."

"exist."

Wei Long's voice came from outside the door.

"Carry Zhou Zhen away and bury him."

"Yes."

"Don't ask the question—"

He paused, looking at the Golden Core cultivator kneeling on the ground, his body covered in sores, still coughing up blood.

"Lock him in the imperial prison."

"Lock him in Mu Yu's gravity cage, and then add three layers of imperial guards to watch over him."

"I want him to live."

Wei Long knelt on one knee:

"I obey your decree."

He stood up and walked up to Mo Wendao.

The once arrogant "Golden Core expert" was now lying on the ground like a rotten dog, too weak to even lift his head.

Wei Long reached out and lifted him up like a chicken.

The Imperial Study fell silent once more.

Yunyi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Outside the window, it was almost dawn.

The blood mist has dissipated, the blood moon has faded, and the sky is changing from pitch black to deep blue, and then from deep blue to pale white.

A new day is about to begin.

……

A month later.

Kyoto, the imperial prison.

Deep inside, in a cell designed by Mu Yu herself, Mo Wendao was locked to the wall.

The gravity cage pressed down on him, making it impossible for him to lift even a finger.

He was so thin he was just skin and bones, and his one eye was half-open, like a lamp about to go out.

Yun Yi sat on a chair outside the cell, looking at him through the iron bars.

"I want your cultivation technique."

Mo Wendao paused for a moment, then laughed, his laughter growing louder and louder, making the chains rattle.

"So you do have something you want too."

He raised his head, a hint of mockery flashing in his single eye. "Want it? Beg me."

Yun Yi looked at him, his face expressionless.

"I'm asking you a question."

Mo Wendao's laughter stopped abruptly, and he stared intently at Yun Yi, his single eye filled with hatred.

"Kill me. I won't give it to you."

Yun Yi remained silent.

"You don't have to give it to me."

Mo Wendao was taken aback.

"I have plenty of time."

Yun Yi stood up and walked outside. "You have one too."

Behind him, Mo Wendao's laughter echoed in the prison cell.

"Time? Hahaha... You think time can make me submit? I was born crawling in hell, what suffering haven't I endured? What sins haven't I suffered? You lock me up for a year, I'll wait for you for a year."

"You locked me up for ten years, I'll wait for you for ten years."

"You lock me up for a lifetime—I'll wait for you for a lifetime."

Yun Yi did not turn around.

His voice came from the end of the corridor, very soft and calm.

"Then let's keep it locked up."

ten years.

The Great Yan Dynasty underwent earth-shattering changes.

Mu Yu's research results were widely promoted, and the crops that yielded tens of thousands of kilograms per mu allowed the people of Da Yan to fill their stomachs for the first time.

Those cannonballs that could summon wind and rain made drought and flood no longer a threat. The entire North was rebuilt, and forty-seven new cities rose from the ground, more prosperous than before.

The grassland legion completely surrendered, and the 100,000 wolf cavalry became the sharpest blade of the Great Yan, marching westward and conquering the lands at the edge of the grasslands that had never been set foot on before.

In the South, the technology of the Tiangong Army combined with Mu Yu's research to create iron birds that could fly in the sky and iron boats that could swim in the water.

For the first time, the flag of the Great Yan was planted on those overseas islands that had been slaughtered by Mo Wendao.

In the past ten years, Yun Yi has only visited Mo Wendao three times.

The first time, Mo Wendao cursed him, cursing him from his ancestors for eighteen generations to his unborn descendants, for a full hour.

Yun Yi sat outside the cell drinking tea. After finishing his tea, he got up and left.

The second time, Mo Wendao ignored him.

Yun Yi sat for a quarter of an hour, then got up and left.

The third time, Mo Wendao continued to curse.

Twenty years.

The territory of the Great Yan Dynasty has tripled.

In the north, at the edge of the grasslands lies an ice field, and at the edge of the ice field lies the sea.

In the south, the Tiangong Army's fleet crossed the South Seas and discovered a new continent.

In the west, Yue Dan led his grassland army across the continuous mountain ranges and arrived at the legendary far west.

In the East, Mu Yu built a giant ship that could fly in the sky and explored islands that no one had ever been to before.

The entire planet was adorned with the flag of the Great Yan.

Yun Yi visited Mo Wendao less and less frequently.

It's not that I don't want to go, it's that I don't have the time.

He reviewed memorials and reports until late at night every day, handled government affairs, received envoys, and inspected various places.

His hair had turned white, and wrinkles had appeared at the corners of his eyes, but his eyes remained calm, as calm as a bottomless pool of water.

When I visited Mo Wendao for the fortieth time, Mo Wendao had already aged terribly.

His hair was completely white, he had lost all his teeth, and his one eye was cloudy.

He saw Yun Yi, opened his mouth, and after a long while, managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"You...you still insist on having it?"

……