Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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(A/N: Don’t forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

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Through the efforts of ruthless political maneuvering, bribery, and shadow assassinations, Li Wei had gained total, absolute control over the Goguryeo court. The King breathed only because Li Wei allowed it, the nation answered to Xiapi, not to its own monarch. The Puppet King raised his cup, his hands trembling slightly as he looked up at the terrifying, god like figure of Emperor Lie Fan.

”T-To His Imperial Majesty,” the King stammered, his heavily accented Han language faltering. ”Goguryeo... Goguryeo rejoices in your endless glory. We... we offer our eternal submission to the sun of Hengyuan.”

Li Wei stepped smoothly to the King’s side, resting a hand lightly, yet with undeniable, iron clad control, upon the monarch’s shoulder. He offered Lie Fan a flawless, incredibly deep bow.

”Your Imperial Majesty,” Li Wei spoke, his voice smooth and commanding, seamlessly covering for the King’s nervous stutter. ”The east is entirely pacified. The King wishes to express that the resources, the manpower, and the absolute devotion of the peninsula are yours to command. The eastern borders are secure under your divine shadow, and the Yamato wouldn’t dare to come to our seas.”

Lie Fan looked at Li Wei, a microscopic, deeply knowing smirk touching the corners of his mouth. The geopolitical masterpiece had been executed flawlessly. He raised his cup to the puppet and the puppeteer.

”We accept your devotion, King of Goguryeo. Return to your lands and govern in our peace. Master Li Wei, your diligent service to the throne in assisting the King is recognized and highly valued,” Lie Fan decreed, drinking the wine.

The toasts from the foreign emissaries continued for over an hour. The kings of smaller kingdoms, the tribal lords of the deep southern jungles, the desert chieftains of the western wastes, each stepped forward, pouring their praises and their wine. The procession trickled down through the echelons of power, moving methodically until the very lowest-ranking officials permitted inside the grand hall had raised their cups.

Through it all, a phenomenon was occurring that slowly, surely captivated the entire banquet hall.

Emperor Lie Fan was drinking. And drinking. And drinking.

He had received well over a hundred toasts from the most powerful men on earth. For each, he had consumed a full cup of highly potent, heavily fermented rice liquor or aged plum wine. By all biological logic, a man of his size should have been unconscious, or at the very least, slurring his words and swaying on his golden throne.

Yet, Lie Fan sat perfectly upright. His dark eyes remained razor sharp, his speech was incredibly articulate and perfectly enunciated, and his posture did not deviate by a single fraction of an inch. He took all of the toasts with effortless grace, completely unaffected by the staggering volume of alcohol in his system.

The whispers rippled through the hall. The foreign emissaries stared in unadulterated awe, while the Hengyuan veterans exchanged knowing, reverent grins. It was a terrifying, physical manifestation of the Emperor’s supernatural fortitude.

They remembered, once again, the legendary tales of their Emperor’s drinking capacity, a man who could seemingly swallow the ocean and ask for more.

Even his own family, seated directly beside him on the dais, was visibly astounded.

Empress Ying Yue, Diao Chan, Cai Wenji, Lu Lingqi, and Zhen Ji had all witnessed his terrifying tolerance before. During their respective wedding ceremonies, he had been subjected to the relentless, traditional onslaught of toasts from the entire officer corps, and he had emerged perfectly sober.

But tonight, the sheer, unimaginable quantity of liquor he had consumed defied human reason. They exchanged wide eyed, disbelieving glances behind their silk fans.

​Muchen, the Crown Prince, sat rigidly in his chair, but his young eyes were wide as saucers. He looked at the endless line of empty jade jugs being carried away from his father’s table, feeling a profound, overwhelming sense of awe.

Is Imperial Father truly a god? the young prince wondered, his admiration burning brighter than the oil lamps.

​As the final, lowest ranking official who could entered into the hall finished his toast and retreated to the back of the hall, Lie Fan gently set his golden goblet down. He let out a quiet, satisfied exhale, completely ignoring the stunned, reverent stares of the thousands of guests watching his every move.

​He turned his attention away from the politics of the room and focused entirely on the woman seated to his right.

​Lie Fan picked up his silver chopsticks, reaching over to a beautifully carved jade platter. He carefully selected a tender, perfectly glazed piece of eastern sea fish and a small, delicate portion of braised southern pork. With gentle, intimate precision, he placed the food directly into Ying Yue’s porcelain bowl.

​The gesture, performed in front of the entire known world, was a profound, public declaration of his absolute devotion to his Empress.

​Ying Yue looked at the food in her bowl, a warm, incredibly tender smile breaking through her formal, imperial composure. She turned to him, her eyes shining with affection.

​”Thank you, my love,” Ying Yue murmured gently, her voice pitched so only he could hear.

​She picked up her own chopsticks and selected a prime, savory cut of the roasted honey boar, placing it delicately into Lie Fan’s bowl. As she did, she leaned in slightly, her voice laced with genuine, wifely concern.

​”Husband... is your stomach truly okay?” she asked softly, eyeing the empty wine jugs. ”I know your constitution is legendary, but you have consumed enough plum wine tonight to drown a warhorse. Please, you must eat something solid to absorb it.”

​Lie Fan looked at the profound concern in his wife’s eyes and offered her a wide, entirely relaxed smile. He reached out under the table, briefly and reassuringly squeezing her hand.

​”I am perfectly fine, my Empress. There is absolutely no need to worry,” Lie Fan reassured her softly. ”My mind is as clear as a mountain stream.”

​Inwardly, however, Emperor Lie Fan let out a massive, invisible sigh of relief.

​He maintained a flawless, god like facade, but the truth was a secret locked securely within his own mind. Many years ago, during the chaotic, unpredictable days of his rise to power, he had accessed his otherworldly interface, the System that had guided him through the nightmare of the Han collapse.

After what happened to him and Diao Chan due to Wang Yun, and also recognizing the immense political and social danger of becoming intoxicated during high stakes diplomatic banquets, he had purchased a highly specific, exceedingly rare pill from the System’s marketplace.

​The pill permanently altered his physiology, granting him an absolute, unbreakable immunity to alcohol. The liquid passed through his system like water, providing the taste and the warmth, but the intoxicating properties were instantaneously neutralized by his bloodstream. He could literally drink until his stomach burst, and he would never feel the slightest touch of inebriation.

​It was an incredible cheat code, a pragmatic secret that allowed him to project an aura of invincible, superhuman fortitude while remaining perfectly, lethally sharp when his enemies were drunkenly spilling their secrets.

​”Thank the heavens for the System,” Lie Fan mused silently, picking up his chopsticks and taking a bite of the roasted boar Ying Yue had served him. ”If I hadn’t taken that pill, I would be currently asleep under the table, and Jia Xu would be running the banquet for him.”

​With the ceremonial toasts finally concluded, the atmosphere in the grand hall shifted into a state of pure, unrestrained celebration.

​Lie Fan waved his hand, signaling the Master of Rites.

​Instantly, the center of the cavernous hall was cleared. The heavy, rhythmic beating of ceremonial drums echoed from the balconies, signaling the beginning of the imperial entertainment.

​A troupe of fifty master dancers flooded into the open space. They were dressed in breathtaking, flowing silks of azure and gold, holding long, trailing ribbons that caught the light of the lanterns. They moved with a mesmerizing, liquid grace, their choreography perfectly synchronized to tell the epic, mythic story of the Black Dragon descending from the heavens to calm the turbulent seas.

​Following the dancers, a group of elderly, revered musicians took to the center floor, sitting cross legged before ancient, beautifully carved guqins. Their gnarled fingers plucked the silk strings with impossible speed and emotional depth, filling the hall with a melody that spoke of sorrow, sacrifice, and the ultimate, radiant triumph of peace.

​The guests ate the lavish feast, drank the endless wine, and watched the performances in a state of absolute, blissful contentment. The nightmare was over. The music played on.

​As the guqin performance drew to a gentle, lingering close, a sudden movement on the imperial dais drew the attention of the high command.

​Muchen, the Crown Prince of Hengyuan, stood up from his seat.

​He was young, but he possessed a bearing that was eerily reminiscent of his father. He wore his heavy black and gold ceremonial robes with a natural, unforced dignity. He stepped out from behind his table and walked to the edge of the dais, positioning himself directly before Emperor Lie Fan and Empress Ying Yue.

​The young prince brought his hands together, sinking to one knee in a flawless, deeply respectful display of filial piety and imperial protocol.

​”Imperial Father. Imperial Mother,” Muchen spoke, his voice clear, steady, and projecting well enough to be heard by the silent, watching tables of the inner circle advisors and supreme generals.

​Lie Fan paused, lowering his chopsticks. He looked down at his eldest son, a surge of immense, towering pride swelling in his chest. ”Speak, Muchen. What is it you request?”

​Muchen kept his head respectfully lowered, but his voice was filled with a burning, passionate energy.

​”In commemoration of this historic achievement, the celebration of the grand unification, I have spent the last several weeks composing a poem,” Muchen requested, his tone carrying the perfect balance of humility and royal confidence.

”Furthermore, I have practiced a traditional sword dance. If it pleases Your Imperial Majesty, I ask for your divine permission to showcase this poem and perform the dance before the court. I hope that through the blade and the brush, I might convey even a fraction of the indomitable spirit and the peerless martial virtue that Imperial Father utilized to unify the land.”

​The grand hall fell into a hushed, anticipatory silence. The lords and generals leaned forward in their seats. To witness the Crown Prince, the future of the dynasty, perform a martial dance was an incredibly rare and significant honor.

​Lie Fan stared at his son for a long moment. He saw the fire in the boy’s eyes, the desperate, beautiful desire to honor the legacy of the Hengyuan banner.

​Lie Fan slowly placed his chopsticks down on his jade rest. He threw his head back and let out a rich, echoing laugh that completely shattered the tension.

​”Of course you can, my son!” Lie Fan boomed, his voice overflowing with a father’s absolute pride. He leaned forward, his eyes shining. ”There is no tribute more fitting for this night than the artistry and the martial spirit of the future! I would be honored to hear the poem you have crafted, and I greatly look forward to witnessing your sword dance.”

​Lie Fan raised his hand, gesturing sharply to the Imperial Maids and the Master of Rites managing the floor.

​”Clear the center!” Lie Fan commanded, his voice echoing through the hall. ”Have the musicians hold their strings and the dancers pull back! Make ample room for the Crown Prince!”

​The servants and entertainers immediately scrambled to obey, pulling the silk screens back and sweeping the crimson carpet entirely clear, creating a wide, unobstructed arena in the very heart of the grand banquet hall.

​Muchen rose from his knee. He looked up at his father, his chest swelling with profound gratitude and determination.

​He cupped his hands together in a crisp, sharp martial salute, bowing deeply from the waist.

​”I thank Imperial Father for your generous permission,” Muchen said loudly.

​He turned away from the dais, his black and gold robes sweeping dramatically around his boots. As the Crown Prince of Hengyuan walked toward the center of the hall, a eunuch hurried forward, presenting him with a beautifully forged, perfectly balanced ceremonial longsword resting on a velvet tray.

​Muchen gripped the hilt, the steel reflecting the light of ten thousand lanterns. The chatter of the banquet entirely ceased. The greatest warriors, the sharpest strategists, and the wealthiest kings on the continent held their breath, turning all their attention to the young dragon preparing to dance in the center of the unified world.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 36 (203 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 1,010 (+20)

VIT: 659 (+20)

AGI: 653 (+10)

INT: 691

CHR: 98

WIS: 569

WILL: 436

ATR Points: 0