A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

As soon as Wei Zhao's carriage returned to the capital and passed the old boundary of Chenqiao, the roadside was filled with kneeling people.

It wasn't forced upon us by the government.

It was not a ceremonial procession arranged in advance by the Ministry of Rites.

Many people still had patched clothes, were holding children in their arms, carrying half a bag of grain on their shoulders, and some even had mud on their feet.

When they saw the white-robed emperor's dragon banner approaching from afar, they were stunned at first, and then they knelt down one by one.

"Long live Your Majesty!"

The sounds were very chaotic.

Some elderly people cried out, some women kowtowed while holding their children, and some refugees who had just escaped from the rebel king's territory kowtowed until their foreheads were bleeding, but they still refused to stop.

Wei Zhao, riding on his white horse, watched this scene, his fingers slowly tightening around the reins.

This was not the first time he had been knelt before by the people.

But this time is different.

They used to kneel because he won the war, because he could provide porridge, kill corrupt officials, and block foreign tribes.

They are kneeling now because the world has truly begun to be at peace.

Liu Jingshuang rode her horse alongside Wei Zhao on his left, looking at the people on the roadside in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, these people are truly happy."

Wei Zhao nodded.

"I know."

He felt no lighthearted joy, but rather a bit tense.

Zhao Qiniang caught up from behind, grinning as she said:

"Your Majesty, the county magistrate knelt for three miles ahead, saying he wanted to surrender the city, grain, and household registrations, and even reported the land occupied by his ancestral graves."

Wei Zhao smiled.

"Scared?"

"I was terrified, like I'd seen a ghost."

Zhao Qiniang clicked her tongue: "After the battle at Black Wind Ridge, they finally understood. You wiped out all the rebel kings in one fell swoop, so what are these local tyrants compared to you?"

Wei Zhao looked ahead.

That's crude.

It is accurate.

To bring order to the world, it is not only through benevolent governance, but also through force.

Without that night at Black Wind Ridge, the local tyrants wouldn't have been so obedient.

Without Du Heng's help, the salt merchants' water fortress would never have surrendered.

Without holding the city of gold for a month, the military merit system would not have truly taken root in the hearts of the people.

The knife cuts open the road, so that rules can be followed.

Three days later, in the capital.

The largest ceremony for presenting captives since the founding of the Xinwu Kingdom was held in front of the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

The six rebel kings, dressed in plain robes, knelt below the jade steps.

Qin Lie presented a map of Liangzhou.

Xu Zhongmou presented the household registration books of Jingzhou and Xiangyang.

Ma Chengyi presented the military register of Hedong.

Feng Wanjun, Sun Qing, and Xue Feng presented the registers of grain, weapons, and taxes for their respective territories in turn.

Each time a book was presented, the official in charge of ceremonies would loudly announce the name of the recipient.

The officials stood on both sides, none daring to breathe loudly.

This was no ordinary surrender.

This is the last time that the separatist forces in the land will bow down.

Old Zhou knelt at the front, holding an iron box in his hands.

When the box was opened, Han Dashan's head had been sealed with lime, but the fat on his face was still twisted, as if he was cursing before he died.

Old Zhou lowered his head, his voice hoarse.

"Your Majesty, I, Zhou Laodao, present the head of the traitor Han Dashan to the Imperial Ancestral Temple for your inspection."

Wei Zhao stood on the steps of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, dressed in white, but not in the imperial robes.

Someone from the Ministry of Rites had advised that the emperor should wear the imperial robes and crown for the grand ceremony.

Wei Zhao did not listen.

Dressed in white, he traveled from the Wei family's mourning hall to the border, from the Northern Rong camp to Golden City, and from Guiping to Black Wind Ridge.

Today, I should wear it to see the matriarch.

Wei Zhao glanced down at Han Dashan, feeling rather displeased.

A rebel king died.

But because those who died cannot come back.

Chen Yuan will not return.

Zhao Qing will not be coming back.

Zhang Yan won't be coming back.

The nine sons of the Wei family will not return.

The old lady will not be coming back either.

Wei Zhao raised his hand.

"receive."

The guards stepped forward, took the iron box, and placed it in front of the altar.

The next moment, a million surrendered soldiers knelt down outside the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

Not all of the million surrendered soldiers could enter Beijing; only representatives from each battalion were allowed in. Yet, their kneeling still filled the long street.

The old Black Mountain Army, Red Knife Army, Iron Ridge Army, Hedong Righteous Army, Green Dragon Camp, Baiyue Army, Haidong Army, and White Deer Army flags were all removed, leaving only the new Wu army flag with black background and white characters at the front.

The military officer shouted, "The surrendered soldiers pay homage to the new commander!"

Splash!

The sound of a leaf hitting the ground.

"Long live Your Majesty!"

"Long live the new martial arts!"

The sound echoed from in front of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, making the bronze nails on the palace gates tremble.

Among the officials, some had red eyes.

Some people were trembling with their heads down.

Li Huai stood at the forefront of the civil officials, his face expressionless.

He had only one thought in his mind.

it is good.

very nice.

Wei Zhao turned around and walked to the altar in the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

Nine ladies lined up behind him.

They weren't wearing palace attire.

Some were wearing armor, some were dressed in plain clothes, some had knives at their waists, and some were holding something that looked like an account book in their hands.

The officials in charge of etiquette were visibly agitated, but no one dared to say it was against protocol.

Because everyone knows that Xinwu's success today is not solely due to Wei Zhao's efforts.

Su Qingyun manages the grain, Shang Wanqing manufactures weapons, Huo Qingluan guards the city, Liu Jingshuang trains soldiers, Xie Daoning heals the wounded, Hua Jieyu and Nie Yinniang set up the Brocade Robe Pavilion, Tuoba Yue and Xiao Guanyin stabilize the foreign tribes, and Fang Fuyao sets the rules.

These women stood before the Imperial Ancestral Temple, and no one dared to say they were unworthy.

Wei Zhao picked up three incense sticks.

The incense was lit, and he stared at the memorial tablet, remaining silent for a long time.

The old lady's memorial tablet is at the very front.

Beside him are Wei Yuan, the nine sons of the Wei family, Chen Yuan, Zhao Qing, Zhang Yan, and the list of all the soldiers who died fighting for Xinwu.

The roster was so thick it filled three whole desks.

Wei Zhao looked at those names, and his throat tightened.

He stood in the Wei family's mourning hall from the very first day he transmigrated here.

At that time, nine coffins were laid out before them, the old matriarch was still alive, the Wei family army had only three thousand men left, Lu Song was sharpening his knife in the court, Emperor Yuanxi was hypocritical, and the Five Barbarian tribes were burning and killing on the border.

His thinking was very simple at that time.

live.

Collecting debts for the Wei family.

Kill all those who deserve to die.

But now he realizes that killing was just the beginning.

Once the world is at peace, that's when things will truly get tough.

Wei Zhao inserted the incense sticks into the burner, making a soft sound.

"Mother, did you see that?"

No one spoke.

In front of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, officials, soldiers, and common people all bowed their heads.

Wei Zhao looked at the memorial tablet and said softly, "The world is at peace."

Liu Jingshuang's eyes were slightly red, but she still stood ramrod straight.

Tuoba Yue held Wei Xuan in her arms. The child was still young, and when he heard the shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" outside, he didn't cry. He just opened his eyes and looked at the incense.

Su Qingyun lowered her head and pressed the corner of her eye with the corner of her sleeve.

Shang Wanqing stared at the list of those who died in battle, her fingers clenched so tightly they turned white.

Xie Daoning closed his eyes, as if he were thinking of the wounded soldiers in the medical camp who could not be saved.

Hua Jieyu still had a smile on her face, but it was much fainter than usual.

Nie Yinniang stood at the very end, silent as a shadow.

Xiao Guanyin looked at the memorial tablet in the ancestral temple, then at the new military flag in her arms. Her lips moved, but in the end, she said nothing.

The master of ceremonies shouted, "All officials, bow!"

Everyone knelt down.

"Soldiers, bow!"

The nails clicked in unison.

"All people bow down!"

Outside the Imperial Ancestral Temple, at the end of the long street, a dense mass of people knelt in a sea of ​​black.

Wei Zhao did not turn around.

He was afraid that if he turned around, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about too many people.

The ceremony lasted until dusk.

The six surrendered kings were taken to a side hall to await their rewards and resettlement.

Zhou Laodao was taken away alone, and the old Chidao troops were reorganized into the various camps of Xinwu.

The re-registration of the military records of the million surrendered soldiers also officially began on this day.

The knife was put away.

The ledger has been opened.

This is more troublesome than murder.

As soon as Wei Zhao stepped down the stone steps of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, Fang Fuyao walked slowly over from the side.

She was still dressed in white, holding a folded scroll in her hand.

"His Majesty."

Wei Zhao glanced at her and suddenly smiled.

"You've already shown me a lot of respect by waiting until now to speak."

Fang Fuyao didn't hold back either.

"Today is the day to pay respects to our ancestors; I dare not disturb them."

Wei Zhao asked, "Do you dare now?"

"dare."

She handed over the memorial book, her voice flat.

"External threats have been quelled, and internal strife has been quelled. The mission of the military merit system has been accomplished. Next, it's time for the imperial examinations."

Wei Zhao accepted the memorial and nodded in agreement.