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Nearby, the ancestral shrine had been adorned with ancestral tablets, the names of the past etched in gold. Jia Xu stood at the head of the altar. Dressed in official robes of deep indigo and silver, he raised his staff and signaled the start of the ritual. The murmurs died into silence.
With a voice that carried across the courtyard, he declared, "The Mandate of Heaven is not taken lightly. Today, under Heaven's gaze, the Son of Heaven approaches the sacred altar to declare his worthiness, shall kneel before the spirits of the land, his ancestors, and the divine firmament, and accept the weight of his fate."
He turned toward Lie Fan. "My lord, proceed."
Lie Fan stepped forward alone.
He knelt.
And then, with solemn precision, he bowed fully to the ground, forehead touching the earth.
First prostration. To Heaven, for it had watched and judged.
He rose, then bowed again.
Second prostration. To Earth, which bore his people and fed his soldiers. The wind itself seemed to still
Then a third.
To his ancestors, whose blood flowed in his veins and whose legacy he would now carry into eternity. A distant rumble, was it thunder, or the approval of spirits long passed?
Silence blanketed the temple like a shroud. And then began the nine kowtows, each one a breath, a heartbeat, a declaration.
The stone beneath his hands was cold.
The incense smoke curled like dragons around the rafters.
With each bow, a murmur rose in the hearts of the watching crowd that was filled with awe, reverence, and something greater, hope.
When the final kowtow ended, Jia Xu stepped forward once more, holding a scroll bound in yellow silk.
"The Mandate of Heaven has spoken through virtue, through trial, through loyalty. On the morrow, the world shall know it. But today, Heaven and Earth bear witness. Rise, Lie Fan. Rise not as Duke, not as Prince, not even as Warlord, but as Emperor of the Hengyuan Dynasty."
Lie Fan stood.
A quiet wind passed through the courtyard.
And in that moment, beneath the watchful gaze of the Azure Dragon, the past was buried, and a new era began.
Yet the city did not erupt in fanfare. No horns blared, no drums were struck. Not yet.
That would come tomorrow.
For today, it was enough that the gods and ghosts knew. That the earth beneath them had felt the touch of a sovereign's forehead. That the people had seen humility before power.
And in the flickering shadows of the ancient temple, the dragon's spirit stirred, silent, unseen, but present.
As Lie Fan turned to leave, his advisors following with expressions grave yet proud, the people parted. A child stepped forward and placed a wildflower at his feet, then bowed.
He smiled faintly, eyes soft.
Tomorrow, he would wear a crown. But today, he had bowed and the heavens had watched.
As he returned to the Lie Clan residence, where he and his family would stay for the last time, a warm yet weighty air greeted him. The ceremonial gravity of the ancestral shrine still clung to his robe, and the scent of incense still whispered through his senses.
The stone courtyards and lacquered beams of the ancestral home felt older now, more distant, as if they knew this would be the last sunset they'd see with Lie Fan as anything less than a sovereign.
At the entrance, he was received not by attendants or guards, but by the five women who had stood with him through war, peace, exile, and triumph.
Ying Yue, the childhood companion turned steadfast wife, stood closest. Her silk gown shimmered pale lavender in the soft light. Beside her stood Diao Chan, whose grace and beauty captivated many people.
Then came Cai Wenji, a scholar whose words could stir a nation's heart. Lu Lingqi, fierce and resolute, had shed blood at his side in the darkest of days. And finally, Zhen Ji, the only woman among them with whom he shared no bed, but whose presence had nonetheless earned his respect.
He smiled and greeted them in turn. To Ying Yue, Diao Chan, Cai Wenji, and Lu Lingqi, he gave an embrace and a gentle kiss upon the forehead, each gesture an unspoken vow.
When he reached Zhen Ji, he bowed low. She curtsied with grace, neither warm nor cold. There had been no fire between them, only duty and circumstance, and Lie Fan had vowed never to cross the boundary she herself had drawn. In that bow, he honored that pact.
Together, the six of them made their way toward the inner residence. The familiar hall, with its polished cedar floors and red silk curtains, had borne witness to laughter, arguments, and moments of quiet unity. Candles lit the space with soft golden light, and the hush of dusk had settled over the compound.
Lie Fan took his place at the center seat, the carved wood seat of the patriarch that would soon be left behind. Around him, his wives and concubine sat, the tension coiling in the silence between them. His eyes turned to Ying Yue. His voice, when it came, was quiet, almost tentative.
"Yue'er," he said, using the old affectionate name, "have you... made your decision? Tomorrow I must stand before Heaven and men alike, and I must have an Empress at my side. Not for the ceremony. Not for status. But because I believe no reign can begin without its heart."
The room froze.
Ying Yue lowered her gaze. For quite some time she had postponed her answer. She had never sought power. She had never cared for titles. Her love for Lie Fan had always been simple and profound, uncomplicated by ambition.
But now, she stood at the threshold of history. To say yes would be to embrace the burdens of the state, the intricacies of court, and the scrutiny of a realm. To say no...
Diao Chan reached out, gently placing her hand atop Ying Yue's.
"If it is not you," she said softly, "then none of us can take that place without contention. We trust one another, but we trust you most. You are the one who's been with him the longest. You understand him more than anyone. If anyone is fit to be Empress, it's you, Sister Yue."
Cai Wenji nodded. "You are husband beginning, Sister Yue. You must be his future. If it were any of us… it would still feel incomplete without you."
Lu Lingqi smirked faintly. "And between us, you're the only one who can scold him into sense when his pride takes the reins."
Even Zhen Ji, ever poised and reserved, offered a small nod. "Without your acceptance Sister Yue, our places remain uncertain. But with it, we are sisters under one sun."
Lie Fan remained silent, watching Ying Yue closely. His anxiety, so carefully hidden from the world, flickered in his eyes. The robes for the Empress were already made, as were those of the consorts. The crown, crafted in secret by the finest artisans of the Central Plains, waited on a silk cushion. All that remained was her word.
Ying Yue looked up.
Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes, not from sadness but from the weight of love, loyalty, and inevitability.
"I was afraid," she said simply. "Not of the title. But of what it meant. Of what I would have to become."
She looked at each of them, one by one, her eyes lingering with warmth.
"But today, I saw a man kneel before Heaven. I saw my husband bow to the earth and rise a sovereign. And I realized… if I do not stand beside him, then I betray the journey we began together."
"So I will," she said with a quiet conviction "I will stand by your side as Empress, from this day until death comes for us both."
A soft exhale left Lie Fan's lips as if a mountain had slid off his back, now replaced with relief, joy, and quiet gratitude. He rose from his seat and kissed her forehead once more, this time longer.
"Thank you," he murmured.
A small cheer rose from the others, gentle laughter, claps on the back, and sighs of shared relief. For a moment, they were not the rulers of a vast territory or the women of a soon to be Emperor, they were simply family, bound by choice.
"Let us rest," Lie Fan said, standing now. "Tomorrow will ask everything of us."
The women dispersed to their chambers, leaving Lie Fan alone for a moment in the empty living room.
He looked around the ancestral home, the walls that had witnessed his rise from son of a prefect to Inspector, then Governor, then Warlord, and now Emperor becoming a new symbol of hope. Tomorrow, they would say farewell to this house… and welcome a palace.
Dawn broke over Xiapi like the unfurling of a new world.
The palace square, newly rebuilt and expanded in anticipation of this very day, teemed with people. Merchants and craftsmen rubbed shoulders with nobles in golden robes. Scholars arrived in pairs, whispering predictions. The common people had gathered at the outer gates, their eyes full of hope, curiosity, and awe.
Inside the Grand Hall, the stage was set.
Lie Fan stood at the far end of the throne dais, dressed in robes of imperial red trimmed in black and gold. The Emperor's Crown, crafted with dragon motifs and a curtain of pearl beads on the front and back, rested atop his brow. In his left hand, he held the Imperial Seal, pristine clean, and even glowing faintly, which must be due to its time in the System's inventory.
In his right, the newly forged scepter, a relic not of history, but of destiny. Made from phoenixwood gilded with gold, inlaid with flawless jade and gems, it gleamed like a torch in the solemn light.
At his sides stood his inner council, Jia Xu, Xun You, Chen Qun, Liu Ye, Chen Gong, Lu Su, Sima Yi, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu, ten minds that had shaped a kingdom and would now shape an empire.
Behind them stood the six masters of Xiapi Academy, robes flowing, their faces solemn and expectant. The chosen scholars who would bear witness and chronicle this birth of a dynasty.
Drums began to beat slowly, deeply, and rhythmically like the heartbeat of the world. The murmurs outside fell away. The grand doors opened.
Lie Fan stepped forward.
With each stride down the steps of the dais, the courtyard seemed to draw breath. The sun caught the threads of his robe. The beads of his crown clinked gently, a sound sharp and clean in the vast silence.
He stopped at the edge of the elevated platform that overlooked the crowd.
Before him, tens of thousands. All eyes fixed on him. Faces young and old. Hopeful and wary. Weathered and awed.
He raised the scepter.
Jia Xu stepped forward and unrolled the yellow scroll. "People of the Central Plains, subjects of the realm," he proclaimed, voice clear and powerful, "Heaven's gaze has turned, and with it, the age has shifted, hear now the voice of Heaven as spoken through its chosen!"
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains
Age: 34 (201 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 1325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 951 (+20)
VIT: 613 (+20)
AGI: 598 (+10)
INT: 617
CHR: 96
WIS: 519
WILL: 407
ATR Points: 0