I, I, I

In the blink of an eye, there was a dark, pitch-black wall. He shifted slightly, and a faint pain struck him.

Liu Hong felt his head swimming. He slowly sat up from the pile of straw, rubbed his head, and looked around.

"What—what is this place? How did I end up here?"

Liu Hong looked utterly bewildered.

"Your Majesty, this should be the Yellow Gate North Temple Prison."

A voice came from nearby. Liu Hong turned to look and saw a short, dark figure in the cell next door.

"Minister Cao?" Liu Hong asked uncertainly.

"It is I, Your Majesty." Cao Cao replied listlessly.

Liu Hong asked in alarm, "How did I end up in the Yellow Gate North Temple Prison? And why are you here too, Minister Cao?"

Luoyang had two major prisons: the Court Commandant Prison and the Yellow Gate North Temple Prison.

The former held mostly high-ranking officials who had broken the law, along with vicious, murderous knights-errant. The latter was no proper prison at all, but a private jail controlled by the palace eunuchs. When Liu Hong had arrested the partisan scholars in the past, he had kept them here.

After all, unlike the Court Commandant Prison, this place was not influenced by the scholars. Here, he could torture prisoners for confessions without restraint.

But Liu Hong had never imagined that one day he himself would be locked up here!

Cao Cao sighed. "Your Majesty, you only just woke from a coma, so you've forgotten what happened. Calm yourself and think it over. You'll understand."

Hearing that, Liu Hong forced himself to settle down. Slowly, scenes surfaced in his mind: the Moth Bandits attacking the city, the false god mounting the platform, thunderbolts and lightning tearing through the sky...

"I—I was captured?!"

Liu Hong sat dazed, unable to believe it. He felt as though he had just woken from a great dream.

Cao Cao said with a sigh, "Being captured was the best outcome. The General-in-Chief, Grand Marshal Deng, Minister of Works Zhang, Gongsun Bogui, and Dong Zhongying died on the spot beneath the lightning, their bodies reduced to dust. Sun Jian and his personal guards were hacked to death by the mob. Liu Xuande, Yuan Benchu, I, Your Majesty, and only a handful of others were lucky enough to survive, though we all suffered injuries of varying severity."

Whenever he thought of that mythic spear of lightning, Cao Cao shuddered despite himself. Liu Hong also trembled, his teeth chattering.

"Xuande... is Xuande all right? Were his injuries serious?" Liu Hong forced himself to stay calm and asked.

Cao Cao nodded. "Captain Liu is fine. The Moth Bandits only just took him out of his cell for questioning."

Hearing that Liu Bei was unharmed left Liu Hong with mixed feelings. At first, he had hoped Liu Bei would take him and escape after the city fell. He had never expected Liu Bei to be captured too.

Fortunately, Liu Bei had not been seriously injured. Perhaps there was still a chance he could take Liu Hong and "break out of prison"...

As Liu Hong sank into his boundless fantasies, the cell door clanged open. A burly military officer strode inside. It was Huang Shao, a commander of the Yellow Turban Army.

Huang Shao grinned at Liu Hong. "Awake? Since you are, come with me."

Liu Hong mustered his courage. "Moth Bandit! Where are you taking me? Release me at once!"

Huang Shao clicked his tongue twice. "Still going on about 'I' and 'me' like you're the emperor. Looks like you need a little suffering before you understand the situation."

He advanced with a wicked grin and blew on his fist.

Terror showed on Liu Hong's face. He tried to back away, but his back was already against the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

Bang! Bang! Bam!

Huang Shao raised his iron fists and hammered them into Liu Hong's pale, gaunt face again and again.

"Still calling yourself 'I'?"

"Go on, keep calling yourself 'I'!"

"You're a prisoner now, yet you still put on the airs of some lord of heaven?!"

Liu Hong reeled, his vision swimming. "Stop hitting me! Stop!"

Cao Cao could not bear to watch. After all, they were cellmates, and Liu Hong had once been the ruler he served. So he spoke up. "Sir, please don't hit His Majesty. If you need to vent your anger, take it out on me!"

Huang Shao ignored Cao Cao and focused on beating the emperor. He was careful with his blows, inflicting pain without injuring Liu Hong internally.

Liu Hong yelped and wailed until he could no longer keep up his imperial airs. He covered his head. "Spare me! Spare me!"

"So now you know how to call yourself 'me'?"

Huang Shao rubbed his right fist in satisfaction. "Since you've learned how to speak properly, come along quietly."

Liu Hong touched his aching face. "Where... where are we going?"

"To be tried, of course. Where else? Or would you rather be beheaded, pulled apart by five horses, or sliced to death?"

"No, no! I—I don't want to die! I'll go to the trial!" Liu Hong hurriedly said.

"Enough. Let's go..."

Huang Shao had someone bind Liu Hong's hands, then led him out of the prison.

In a splendid palace chamber in Luoyang.

Huang Tian sat in meditation, his consciousness turned inward toward the purple orb in his sea of awareness.

The orb had appeared after he entered Luoyang and established it as the capital of the Dao Court.

"This should be the opportunity I sensed in the depths of my mind—the one that would come after I pacified the realm. But what exactly is it? Faith, incense offerings, or fortune?"

Huang Tian could not make sense of it yet. But from the faint messages emanating from the purple orb, he knew it was not yet complete. Only when the realm was unified would it become whole and perfect. Then it could be "used."

"Never mind. I'll set aside what it is for now and focus on pacifying the realm. Once the time comes, its true nature will naturally become clear."

Huang Tian withdrew from his sea of awareness, ended his meditation, and rose to leave the chamber. He made his way to Deyang Hall.

Deyang Hall had painted walls, vermilion beams, jade steps, and gold pillars with carved railings. It was lavishly decorated and had long served as the place where the emperor held regular court.

But those gathered in the hall today were no longer the scholars, eminent ministers, dukes, and generals of old. Instead, they were Zhang Jiao, Zhang Liang, He Yi, and others—the "Moth Bandits" condemned as rebels by the Han Court.

"We pay our respects to the Holy Venerable!" Zhang Jiao and the other nine bowed.

"Rise."

Huang Tian looked at them and spoke. His words filled all ten with surprise and delight. "Now that Luoyang has fallen with ease, more than half the realm's fate has been decided. I intend to teach you the Dao arts as a reward."

Seeing them about to bow excitedly again, Huang Tian raised a hand to stop them. "Focus your minds and listen!"

Everyone grew solemn.

"The cultivation method I will teach you is called the Mountain-Suppressing Spirit Scripture. Though it is merely the fundamental scripture of a sect in one world, it contains many ingenious ideas and is well suited for establishing an Immortal Foundation.

"Cultivation has never been easy. Some enter the gates after a few days, others after a few months or a year. You must hold fast to a heart as unmoving as a great rock to achieve anything. Those who master this method can build a ladder to heaven from their mortal bodies, cast off mortality, and become immortals. Even eternal life is not beyond reach. Today, I will teach you its Qi-Gathering chapter..."

From the information he had obtained from Mo Qiu of the Thick Earth Sect's world, along with his own cultivation experience, Huang Tian had discovered that the vast majority of people could cultivate.

Their meridians, Root Bones, comprehension, and souls simply differed in their affinity for spiritual energy. Some drew it in like a surging spring, while others might not absorb even a few wisps after three or five years.

That was what separated geniuses from the untalented.

To improve one's aptitude, powerful cultivators in the Thick Earth Sect's world had developed a technique called "Spirit Root Planting." They transplanted the precious cores of demon beasts and the roots of spirit medicines into the human body, creating "spirit roots" that helped absorb spiritual energy and produced many cultivation geniuses.

But Mo Qiu had only mentioned the matter in passing. He had never explained how to plant spirit roots, so Huang Tian did not know how to do it either.

Zhang Liang, He Yi, Huang Shao, and the others could not be called geniuses. They were only a little better than the untalented.

Zhang Jiao had the best aptitude, just barely reaching the level of an average person.

"Still, Zhang Jiao is nearly seventy. Though his talent is above average, his chances of reaching the Dao Foundation realm are slim..."

The thought flashed through Huang Tian's mind, and he continued teaching:

"...At the beginning of cultivation, Huang Tian and Thick Earth, embrace the origin and keep to the One; the Mountain Spirit opens the orifices, Qi flows through the Purple Court; the stars turn through the celestial cycle, the River Cart moves of its own accord; plant jade in the Yellow Court, and true breath grants long life..."