"Welcome back, Ancestor! Welcome back, Ancestor! Welcome back, Ancestor!"
In Dongli Province, Wufang Domain, the Great Sui Dynasty.
Before the former imperial palace of the Great Sui, Emperor Yang Fuhou led civil and military officials, along with over a thousand mortal disciples of the Yang family, kneeling and slowly approaching Yang Hong who had returned to the palace.
"Everyone rise. We are family, no need for such formalities."
"Yes, Ancestor."
With a rustle, rows of people stood up, numbering over two thousand.
Seeing the Great Sui imperial family, who had become many times more powerful than when he had left, Yang Hong felt a surge of emotion.
These were all his relatives, his relatives in this life.
Even though countless generations had passed, these Yang family members still shared his blood. The sense of kinship hadn't faded as it often did with cultivators who delved deeper into their practice.
For Yang Hong, this kinship grew clearer with his cultivation, which was a miracle in itself.
Most cultivators, upon achieving success, would sever ties with mortals to ascend to the upper realms without attachments.
Yet, after Yang Hong shattered six secret realms of the demonic sects and reached the ninth level of the Mahayana realm, his first thought was to return to the Great Sui and see his bloodline descendants.
And so, he returned.
He ascended the dragon throne in the Golden Chariot Hall, waving to stop the Yang family who were about to kneel again.
He accepted the bowing of the civil and military officials with equanimity.
"What is your name, and which generation's emperor are you?"
"Reporting to Ancestor, your descendant is the twenty-sixth generation emperor, Yang Fuhou, your eighteenth-generation grandson."
"Alas, you are already the twenty-sixth generation. Father Emperor Yang Jian was the ninth generation, and my imperial elder brother was the tenth. Time truly flies."
Yang Hong stroked the dragon throne, still in use after twenty-six generations of emperors, and mused.
This dragon throne was initially crafted from gilded bronze. It had absorbed considerable spiritual energy while suppressing the five directional seals, thus possessing the rudiments of a magical artifact.
Later, his imperial elder brother Yang Guang, who had aided the Buddhist sect in disrupting the five directional seals and achieved enlightenment upon this throne, elevated it to a third-grade magical artifact.
Over three hundred years, the dragon throne, in tandem with the ever-strengthening Great Sui Dynasty and its constant suppression of the dynasty's destiny, had become a fourth-grade artifact. It was a destiny artifact, imbued with profound mysteries.
"Ancestor, you won't be leaving again this time, will you? Your humble grandson remembers your 399th birthday is in eighteen days. Could you stay, and allow your grandson to fulfill his filial duties?"
Yang Fuhou cautiously raised his head, looking at his Ancestor who seemed lost in thought on the dragon throne, and asked softly.
"Hehe, alright. I haven't had a birthday in a long time. Let's celebrate it at home.
To think I'm already 399 years old. A true old monster."
"Ancestor, you are an immortal being, destined to live as long as heaven and earth. 399 years is still very young."
Yang Fuhou quickly seized the opportunity to flatter Yang Hong, his voice filled with envy.
The Great Sui Yang family had a rule: every ten years, spiritual root talents were assessed. Those with good talents were sent to cultivate on Qingfeng Mountain, three thousand li away. Those with lesser talents were made to study governance, to become emperors in the future.
Thus, the position of emperor, a position of supreme glory in other mortal kingdoms, was the fallback for less promising Yang family disciples in the Great Sui.
The most common reprimand from Yang family elders to their children was: "If you don't work hard, you'll end up being an emperor when you grow up."
However, being an emperor wasn't the worst fate. Many Yang family descendants, through hard work, now tilled the land for a living.
Yang Hong chuckled and shook his head, then changed the subject. "Is there any issue with the Great Sui's grain supply?"
"There are no problems whatsoever. A hundred years ago, our grandmothers sent new grain seeds, and the people have had no trouble with food. In fact, it yields better than before."
"Are there no cultivators harassing the Great Sui?"
"This..."
Upon hearing Yang Hong's question, Yang Fuhou's face showed distress, unsure how to answer.
Yang Hong's expression darkened. "Speak freely. In this Taiyuan Continent, there are very few people I cannot kill."
"It's... it's the Jietian Temple of the Great Snow Mountain in Lingnan."
"Over two hundred years ago, the Great Sui began expanding north. We joined forces with the Wufang Dynasties to destroy the Northern Yuan Dynasty, shifting our focus to the northern territories. The Lingnan region, with its Great Snow Mountain, was rich in cultivators. The dynasty decided to abandon Lingnan."
"At first, it was fine. Those cultivators merely explored the Great Snow Mountain. But as time passed, the Great Snow Mountain came under the control of a faction called the 'Jietian Temple.' They began encroaching upon the Great Sui's territory.
Now, the Great Sui's northernmost border is Qingfeng Mountain, and the imperial palace is only three thousand li from the border."
As Yang Fuhou spoke, his face turned slightly pale.
Yang Hong's anger flared. Why were these baldasses involved everywhere?
Had they completely forgotten the karma from him helping ten thousand of their monks resist heavenly tribulation back then?
If so, he wouldn't be blamed for being ruthless.
He rose from the dragon throne, raised three fingers to the sky, his expression solemn. He channeled his magic power and divine sense simultaneously, his words forming a true decree:
"Heavenly Dao, I, Yang Hong, swear that I shall transfer the karma I incurred by aiding the Buddhist sect to the mortals of my Yang clan. Henceforth, all karma related to the Buddhist sect shall be borne by the mortals of the Yang family.
This oath, may Heaven and Earth bear witness!"
Rumble... rumble... rumble...
As Yang Hong took his oath, Heaven's Dao acknowledged it. He felt as if a burden had been lifted from him, his heart becoming significantly lighter.
Before him, Yang Fuhou blinked blankly. He felt no discomfort, no transformation, no sudden agility. He was still himself.
It seemed as if nothing had happened.
"Ancestor, is it done?"
"Yes... it's done. Send someone to negotiate with Jietian Temple. Tell them to return the lands of the Great Sui Dynasty. They will obey."
With this matter resolved, there were no more significant issues for the Great Sui. Despite the troubles caused by Jietian Temple, the dynasty's strength had grown a hundredfold since Yang Hong's departure. Its territory had expanded tenfold, and its power was flourishing.
Yang Hong returned to his former residence, the "Zhi Ruo Wang Wen Pavilion." Yang Fuhou quickly sent a message via a spirit talisman to the Yang family disciples on Qingfeng Mountain to negotiate with Jietian Temple.
In Qingfeng Town at the foot of Qingfeng Mountain, Yang Fuzai looked at the communication spirit talisman in his hand with a wry smile, suspecting his ninth brother had gone mad.
But he still muttered, "So be it," and then went to find the monks of Jietian Temple.
"Hahaha! You mere mortal dare to order a Buddha? You are courting death!"
When Yang Fuzai found the head monk of Jietian Temple in Qingfeng Town and had only half-explained the situation, the monk before him had already raised his palm high, striking down from ten zhang away.
Whoosh...
The fierce wind generated by the palm blew Yang Fuzai over, shattering the carriage he was in.
"Alas... as expected..."
Yang Fuzai despaired, closing his eyes and awaiting his death.
"Hmm, is the Buddha showing mercy then?"
After waiting for a while, he felt no fatal blow. Curiously, he opened his eyes.
With just one glance, Yang Fuzai's eyes widened in shock, disbelief.