Three-Year Term, Wen Zhong's Admiration

Time flew by like a white colt flashing past a gap.

The bustle and prosperity of Chaoge City continued day after day, year after year.

To mortals, three years might be a long stretch of time—long enough for an infant to learn to run, and for a boy to grow into a full-grown man.

But to cultivators, it was no more than a single meditation session or a period of secluded cultivation.

Inside the Grand Tutor's Mansion, in the study.

Bamboo slips were piled as high as a mountain on the desk.

Jiang Ziya sat before the desk, his vermilion brush never stopping as he rapidly annotated a military report from the northern border.

Wen Zhong stood to one side without taking a seat, quietly watching his Martial Uncle handle state affairs.

The contempt and worry he had felt upon their first meeting had long since vanished, replaced by deep admiration—even... astonishment.

Three years.

Only three years.

This mortal Martial Uncle had already sorted out the tangled web of Great Shang's court affairs with perfect clarity.

At first, Wen Zhong had needed to point out the key details and explain how the various factions balanced one another.

In less than half a year, Jiang Ziya could independently handle the memorials submitted from every region.

Later, even Wen Zhong, the Grand Tutor who had spent decades maneuvering through court politics,

would come to ask this Martial Uncle's opinion whenever he encountered a thorny matter.

Smack.

Jiang Ziya closed the final bamboo slip, let out a long breath, and set the vermilion brush aside.

He rubbed his sore wrist and looked up at Wen Zhong.

"Grand Tutor, although Yuan Futong of the North Sea is showing signs of unrest, now is not the time for a major conflict."

Jiang Ziya pointed at