Divine Han—the years of Chu-Han strife were something Liu Bang had never forgotten.
Before the age of forty-eight, he had merely been an idle commoner drifting through the streets of Sishui Pavilion. He would drunkenly sleep at the village entrance, watch wild dogs fight when he had nothing better to do, and laugh or curse as he pleased. There was no weight of rank upon him, no immortals or gods to aid him; his life was as faint as cooking smoke.
He had never expected that he, a mortal who had muddled through half his life, would slay the White Snake, gather righteous men, enter Xianyang, and contend for the realm in a mere seven years.
From a rough commoner amid the fields, he had ascended in a single step to the summit and contended for supremacy over the Nine Provinces.
He had stumbled all the way, narrowly escaping death time and time again.
Along the way, he encountered the lingering iron-blooded might of Immortal Qin survivors, perilous mountains and rivers occupied by mountain and river deities, demons and monsters throwing the world into chaos, and feudal lords carving up the land.
He had no divine weapon to protect him and no Saint as his master. Yet with courage enough to risk everything and a heart broad enough to embrace the world, he gathered the scattered heroes from every direction beneath his banner.
Later, Postnatal Deities from all sides came to pledge themselves to him. The foundation of Divine Han's enterprise was forged through sheer endurance amid that war-torn age.
When he entered Xianyang, the Qin Palace held boundless gold, beauties like clouds, and countless rare treasures. Ordinary men would have been bewitched by such sights.
But he knew his own limits. He suppressed every greedy desire and made three