When the day of the light screen broadcast finally arrived, Ganlu Hall was way more crowded than Li Shimin had expected.
Two extra people showed up.
The first was Su Lie. Courtesy name Dingfang. The gloom that usually hung over him was gone. He stood tall, looking sharp and ready.
The second was Yuchi Jingde. The big guy had literally carried his brother-in-law Qin Qiong into the room.
Now the spacious hall felt like a cramped, awkward waiting room. Li Shimin had to ditch his imperial dignity and play stressed tavern host.
"Dingfang, you used to serve under General Li Jing. Grab that chair and squeeze in over there." He pointed to a corner.
Then he turned to Yuchi Jingde. "Shubao just had surgery. Move that armchair closer so you can take care of him."
Then his gaze landed on the young bureaucrat hovering near the door, looking completely out of his depth.
"Xuance, stop standing there like a wooden chicken. Come help Wuji move this low table."
Wang Xuance felt incredibly small.
This room had more dukes, prime ministers, and legendary generals than he'd ever seen. Every casual conversation involved a duke. Every passing glance belonged to someone important.
He scrambled forward and grabbed one end of the heavy mahogany table. Then he panicked. The man helping him lift the other end was Zhangsun Wuji. The most powerful civil official in the empire.
I'm holding a table with Zhangsun Wuji, he thought. Zhangsun Wuji. The man who basically runs the empire. And I'm here, sweating, holding a table.
Am I qualified for this?
A month ago, I was worried about swamp drainage. Now I'm furniture moving with the most powerful man in the civil service.
He nearly dropped the table.
Once the furniture was cleared, Li Shimin casually dragged Sun Simiao onto a shared wooden bench. "Need to free up floor space for the Yan brothers to set up their easels."
When everything settled, Wang Xuance was handed a tiny three-legged stool.
Li Shimin gave him an apologetic smile. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't expect this many people." He gestured at the tiny stool. "It's that or the floor."
Wang Xuance grabbed the stool. "No worries, Your Majesty."
Frankly, he felt like he should be kneeling outside in the dirt.
But one thing bothered him.
Everyone had positioned their seats to face a blank wall. Not a single painting hung there. No scrolls. No decorations. Just bare masonry.
Are they waiting for a map? Wang Xuance wondered. Is this some kind of secret strategy briefing?
He started sweating.
He was a lowly county deputy magistrate. His job used to be managing swamps and collecting taxes. He had absolutely no business sitting in a room full of dukes and generals, listening to top-level state secrets.
What am I doing here?
Then something happened.
Mist began rising from the floorboards near the wall. Thin at first. Then thicker. It swirled and twisted, like smoke from a fire that hadn't been lit.
Then it tore open a hole in reality.
Wang Xuance forgot how to breathe.
The hole wasn't supposed to be there. Walls weren't supposed to do that. They were solid. They were stone. They didn't just... open.
A massive glowing rectangle flared to life where the blank wall used to be. Light spilled out. Blue. White. Shimmering. It painted the whole room in colors Wang Xuance had never seen before.
His heart stopped. Then it started again, twice as fast.
What is that? he thought. What in heaven's name is that?
He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He wanted to pinch himself.
But he couldn't move. His legs felt like stone.
This is sorcery, his brain screamed. I should not be here.
He snapped his head toward the Emperor.
Li Shimin didn't look surprised. He didn't look shocked. He didn't look scared.
He just sat there. Smiling. Like he was watching a child see the ocean for the first time.
Then he noticed Wang Xuance's face. Pale. Eyes wide. Mouth hanging open.
Li Shimin chuckled.
"Xuance," he called out. "Relax. It's not going to eat you."
Wang Xuance didn't respond. He was still frozen.
"Hahaha." Li Shimin leaned forward. "What are you doing? Don't stand there like a hillbilly who just saw his first carriage."
Wang Xuance finally turned his head. His expression was somewhere between terror and confusion.
"Your Majesty... what is that?"
"Future magic." Li Shimin waved a hand casually. "Don't worry about it."
"Future... magic?"
"Yes. Now sit down. You're blocking the view."
Wang Xuance sat down. Slowly. His eyes kept darting between the Emperor and the glowing screen.
Future magic, he repeated in his head. He says 'future magic' like it's nothing. Like he sees this every Tuesday.
He looked around.
No one else was panicking. Yuchi Jingde was whispering to Qin Qiong, explaining something. The old general nodded slowly. Su Dingfang quietly asked Li Jing a question. The Yan brothers were setting up their easels.
They've seen this before, Wang Xuance realized. That's why everyone knew where to sit.
He took a deep breath.
No one told me about this.
Across the room, Li Shimin watched Wang Xuance's starstruck face with satisfaction.
Good, he thought. The kid's paying attention.
Then he turned his gaze to the screen. Words were starting to form. Glowing characters. A title.
He felt a little disappointed.
Fame was a strange thing. You could never get enough of it. Future generations constantly praised his military genius. He'd read the histories. He knew what they said about him.
So he'd secretly hoped. Just a little. That this broadcast would be about him.
But judging by the title forming on the screen, the Tang Dynasty had produced another military figure. Someone whose legend rivaled Guan Yu himself.
Li Shimin remembered that endless list of divine titles. Future generations had really gone overboard with Guan Yu. God of War. Saint of War. Great Emperor. It went on and on.
And now apparently we have another one.
Meanwhile, across the room, General Li Ji caught General Li Jing's eye.
Neither looked away.
There was a silent rivalry between them. It had always been there. Professional. Respectful. But real.
The last broadcast had made one thing clear. In the early Tang Dynasty, only three men were considered true Gods of War. The two Li's. And one Su.
Li Jing. Li Ji. Su Dingfang.
Setting aside Su Dingfang, who was loyal but not quite at their level, today's video was guaranteed to be about either Li Ji or Li Jing.
Li Jing sat back. He didn't say anything. Didn't need to. His face was calm. Relaxed. Almost meditative.
Let the screen speak for itself, his expression seemed to say.
Li Ji leaned forward. His eyes were sharp. Alert. Ready.
Come on, his posture said. Show me.
[Lightscreen]
[Hey everyone, it's your favorite historically uploader, Wen Mang.
Today we're talking about a man whose life was so smooth that historians practically had to invent problems for him just to keep things interesting.
Seriously. Think about all the classic tragic endings famous generals usually get.
Executed after victory? Not him.
Thrown in prison by a paranoid emperor? Not him.
Forced to retire in disgrace? Not him either.
Framed by political rivals? Nope.
Dying young before reaching his full potential? Also no.
This man somehow dodged every single disaster that normally waits for successful military commanders.
The first half of his life was already enviable. He was born into one of the great aristocratic families of his era.
No poverty arc.
No sleeping under bridges.
No dramatic story about gathering followers while eating tree bark. He grew up with status, education, connections, and money.
Then the second half of his life somehow got even better.
He met a ruler who trusted him. A ruler capable of recognizing talent and actually using it properly. And once he stepped onto the battlefield, he developed a rather unreasonable habit.
Every time he launched a major campaign, an enemy state tended to disappear.
Not lose a battle. Disappear.
Entire kingdoms would spend years building armies and alliances, only for this man to show up, ruin everything, and go home with another title.
Even after his death, his reputation never really faded. Generations of military officers studied him. Later dynasties praised him. Popular folklore adopted him. Eventually, people went one step further and started worshipping him outright.
That's right.
Today's protagonist didn't just become a legend. He became a god.
Today, we're talking about one of the greatest military minds of the early Tang Dynasty.
The Duke of Wei. Li Jing.]
[ Chat Log Server]
[nightwatchman_99: I know Li Jing! His first wife is the legendary swordswoman Lady Hongfu. His second wife is Lady Yin. His sworn blood-brother is the bearded rogue Qiu Ranke. He has three sons named Jinzha, Muzha, and Nezha. He trained under real Daoist immortals. He was the military commander of Chentang Pass during the Shang Dynasty. He is the Grand Marshal of Demon Subjugation in the Heavenly Court. He is the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King!
Jelly_enthusiast: I can verify the guy above me is telling the absolute truth. It is just a shame he couldn't beat the Monkey.
sleepy_panda_42: LOL... Imagine spending your entire life crushing enemies, exterminating the Turks, destroying Tuyuhun, ascending to Heaven after death, and becoming a legitimate deity. Then future generations remember you as "that guy Sun Wukong beat up."
beef_noodle_king: Jokes aside, Li Jing basically ruined military career expectations for every Tang general who came after him. In most dynasties, winning a major campaign makes you a legendary commander. In the Tang, if you haven't personally erased a country from the map, you're barely qualified to brag at a military banquet.
moonlight_baijiu: Which means Li Jing isn't even the captain of the Great Tang Nation-Erasing Boyband. He's the vice-captain.
cold_noodles_lover: Wait. If Li Jing is vice-captain, then who's captain?
moonlight_baijiu: Li Shimin, obviously.
drunken_scholar: Fair. Half of Early Tang military history is basically Li Shimin and his friends committing geopolitical violence.
candied_hawthorn: The warrior spirit of the Early Tang was genuinely terrifying. Other dynasties fought wars. The Tang treated neighboring states like optional content.]
Far away in another timeline, Liu Bei sat frozen.
His hand was mid-beard-stroke. It just... stopped.
A few moments ago, he'd been feeling pretty good about himself. Jingzhou was secured. Cao Cao had taken a beating. Life was looking up.
He'd planned to do what Kongming did. Write a boastful note on some parchment. Toss it into the screen. Brag to the future about his brilliant conquest.
Then he read the comments.
His pride evaporated.
Maybe, he thought, I should wait until I actually catch Cao Cao and kick his ass before bragging to Li Erfeng...
He didn't know Li Jing's battlefield stats yet. But those bullet points about what the man avoided in life? Very telling.
No execution. No prison. No political backstabbing. No dying young with regrets.
Liu Bei stared at the screen.
He ran through the list of history's greatest commanders. Han Xin. Bai Qi. Wei Qing. Huo Qubing.
Did this Tang general somehow surpass all of them?
Man... Is this guy even human?
Zhang Fei slapped the table.
"Big brother, look! He's in the same line of work as Second Brother!" he bellowed. "What a waste! Second Brother should be here watching this. A fellow general becoming an actual god? He'd love it."
Liu Bei sighed. "Yeah, you're right, Yide. It's a waste Yunchang can't see a fellow general become a god."
He paused.
"Or maybe... Are you sure you're not a little jealous?"
Zhang Fei's eyes widened. "Big brother, don't say that! Why do you doubt my character?"
"Yide...Fine. I'm not saying anything."
Zhuge Liang smiled faintly. Kept his thoughts to himself. But his eyes caught the phrase 'unfulfilled ambitions' on the screen.
He sighed quietly.
For some reason, those words lingered.
Then his expression shifted.
Sima Yi, he thought. The founder of the Jin dynasty.
A cold idea formed in his mind.
I need a permanent disposal method for this guy. Something failsafe. Something that ensures future generations never have to experience that absurd Jin dynasty era. The invasions. The barbarians. The whole mess.
The original plans only ensured he'd never rise to power. Now? I want to make sure he goes far, far away from the central plains.
He paused.
Maybe Tibet. Vietnam. Or beyond. Somewhere he can't cause trouble.
His smile returned. This time, not so warm.
Once that's taken care of...
The image formed naturally in his mind. One future founder of Jin. Sima Yi. One Eternal Emperor. Li Shimin. The top global hater of the Sima clan.
One conversation.
I'll arrange a chat between him and Emperor Li Shimin.
Zhuge Liang's smile widened slightly.
That should be very entertaining.
---
Back in Ganlu Hall, General Li Jing's eyes had glazed over.
Was the screen talking about me? he wondered. The military stuff matches. But where in the blazing hell did these fictional wives and sons come from?
He squinted at the comments.
Lady Yin? Who is Lady Yin? I've never met a Lady Yin in my life.
Nezha? Is that supposed to be my son?
He stared harder.
I don't remember naming any of my children Nezha. I would remember naming a child Nezha. That's not a normal name.
He glanced around the room. No one else seemed confused. They were all nodding along like this made perfect sense.
Am I losing my mind?
Then he read another comment.
'Could not beat the Monkey.'
He blinked.
What monkey?
Who is Sun Wukong?
Why would he beat me?
His eye twitched.
I need to find any guy named that. And beat him first before he beats me.
And why would I lose anyway? I've never lost a battle.
He opened his mouth to ask. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
He decided to stay quiet. Asking questions felt dangerous.
While Li Jing spiraled into an existential crisis, the way everyone else looked at the old general shifted.
He ascended to heaven and became an actual god, they thought. Not just a minor rain spirit. A Heavenly King. Holding real celestial authority.
They had already used this magical screen to glimpse the future universe. They knew the moon was a barren rock. No palace. No Goddess Chang'e.
But the afterlife?
Who knows what happens after death?
One official whispered to another, "If he's going to become a god... and we're sitting here with him right now..."
The other official's eyes widened. "Don't say it."
"I'm just saying, if we ever offended him..."
"We haven't."
"If."
The second official grabbed his arm. "We haven't. We've been very respectful. I've always been respectful."
"What about that time you called his strategy 'overly cautious'?"
"That was constructive feedback!"
"He might not see it that way."
"..."
"We're screwed, aren't we?"
"Probably."
Li Shimin shattered the stunned silence with a booming roar of laughter.
"Holy shit! My dear Yaoshi, my General of the Army has become a god!" He slapped the armrest of his chair. "Look, Yaoshi, the future descendants really take care of you!"
The Emperor's logic was delightfully straightforward. The more brilliant, legendary, and deified his subordinates became, the more it proved his own supreme genius in hiring them.
A peerless sword, requires a peerless swordsman to wield it.
He looked at Li Jing.
And I'm the one holding the sword. His smile widened.
Deciding to ignore the bizarre allegations of secret wives and the pressing question of how to defeat Sun Wukong should they ever cross paths, Li Jing recovered his composure. He stood up, radiating the grace of a veteran statesman, and bowed deeply to the men around him.
"The utter annihilation of the Eastern Turks was entirely reliant on His Majesty's flawless grand strategy," he stated, voice ringing with sincerity. "I relied heavily on Mao Gong's tactical reinforcements. I depended entirely on Dingfang's fearless vanguard charges. I also required the tireless logistical support of Keming and Xuanling managing the capital. How could I possibly claim the credit for myself?"
With a few perfectly chosen words, the old fox wiped his slate clean of arrogance. The other ministers immediately sprang into action, throwing compliments back at him in a chaotic symphony of mutual humility.
Beneath all the polite noise, a surreal feeling washed over the Tang cabinet.
They were serving in the same government as a living, breathing immortal god.
One official whispered to another, "So... when we fill out official paperwork, do we list him as 'General Li Jing' or 'Heavenly King Li Jing'?"
The other official hissed, "Shut up. He can probably hear you."
"Can gods hear whispers?"
"Do you want to find out?"
"...No."
"Then shut up."
Sitting on his small wooden stool, Wang Xuance stared at the old general with stars in his eyes.
Just a few weeks ago, his wildest ambition was to do a decent job managing the swamps of Rongzhou. Maybe return to the capital with his head still attached to his neck.
Now? Within half a month, he had met the Emperor. The Prime Ministers. The Dukes.
And now he was sitting in a room with a confirmed god.
A real one. Not a temple statue. Not a legend from old books. A living, breathing, bowing-to-people god.
Wang Xuance felt a fire ignite in his chest.
I want that, he thought. I want to stand on that same peak.
He looked at Li Jing. The old general was still being humble, still bowing, still pretending he wasn't a heavenly god.
How do you even become a god? Wang Xuance wondered. Do you have to apply? Is there an exam?
He shook his head.
Who wouldn't want their name carved into the bedrock of history?
He gripped his small stool.
I need to start somewhere.
Maybe... but not the swamps.
[Lightscreen]
[Li Jing came from the Longxi Li clan, one of the most prestigious aristocratic families in northern China. His grandfather held a ducal title. His father served as a commandery administrator. His uncle was the famous Sui general, Han Qinhu.
As for Han Qinhu's military achievements? We'll skip those for now.
Because his retirement career was way more famous.
He became Yanluo Wang. The King of Hell.
No, seriously. Han Qinhu is widely regarded as the historical prototype behind the ruler of the underworld. Versions of the story were actually recorded in the official histories. Whether it was true or not is beside the point. The important thing is that enough people believed it for the story to survive for centuries.
That's the kind of family Li Jing was born into.
As a result, the first half of his life was almost suspiciously uneventful. No poverty. No overlooked genius struggling against a corrupt system. No studying by candlelight while starving through winter.
For forty-six years, he simply worked as a respectable government official and lived a life so stable it could put historians to sleep.
Then, at age forty-six, he discovered something awkward.
His immediate supervisor, Li Yuan, appeared to be stockpiling weapons, gathering horses, and preparing for a large-scale rebellion.
Being a diligent employee of the Sui government, Li Jing decided this was information his emperor probably ought to know.
So he disguised himself as a prisoner and planned to travel south to Jiangdu to personally report the treason.
Unfortunately, Heaven had other plans.
By the time he reached Chang'an, the empire was already collapsing into chaos. Roads were blocked. Armies moved in every direction. Communications broke down everywhere. Li Jing ended up trapped in the world's largest traffic jam.
Before he could leave, Li Yuan's army marched into Chang'an, took the city, and discovered that one of his own employees had been trying to report him for treason.
Awkward.
Li Yuan's solution was simple. Execute him.
Li Jing's solution was considerably different. Standing on the execution ground, with one foot away from losing his head, diplomacy became very simple.
He started shouting. At the top of his lungs.
"You claim you're pacifying the realm and pursuing a great destiny! How can you be so petty as to kill a man over a personal grudge?"
Li Yuan froze. Partly because the argument actually made sense. Partly because he cared about his public image. And partly because someone nearby was desperately trying to save the condemned man.
That someone was Li Shimin.
The future Emperor Taizong took one look at Li Jing and decided this was not a man worth wasting.
Thanks to Li Shimin's intervention, Li Jing kept his head attached to his neck and found himself recruited into the very regime he had just attempted to expose.
History is funny sometimes.
After that near-death experience, his life somehow became boring again. Li Shimin's headquarters was already overflowing with talented strategists. More importantly, Li Shimin's preferred method of warfare often looked suspiciously like charging directly at the enemy while yelling louder than everyone else.
Li Jing, meanwhile, preferred maps. Calculations. Planning. Thought.
The two men were military geniuses, but they approached warfare from completely different directions. As a result, during the early campaigns, Li Jing spent much of his time sitting quietly in the background while other people received the spotlight.
Then, two years later, everything changed.
Li Yuan assigned him south to deal with Xiao Xian.
At the time, Xiao Xian ruled one of the largest warlord states in China. His forces supposedly numbered four hundred thousand men. His capital was Jiangling.
And Jiangling was not the sort of city anyone looked forward to attacking. Centuries earlier, Guan Yu had fortified the region extensively. Combined with the natural defenses of the Yangtze basin, the city was widely considered one of the toughest strongholds in the south.
Most generals looking at the map would have predicted a grinding campaign lasting three to five years.
Li Jing was fifty years old.
He finished the war in two months.
Step One: The weather turned catastrophic. Rain hammered the countryside without pause. Roads became rivers of mud. Every advisor argued that military operations should stop immediately.
Li Jing ignored all of them.
He forced his army into a brutal advance through the storm, pushed straight through Jingmen and Yidu, and seized both strategic choke points before the enemy could react.
Step Two: Xiao Xian panicked. He rushed his main army forward.
Li Jing carefully studied the situation and advised caution. The enemy was retreating in disorder, he warned, but pursuing them was dangerous.
His superior officer, Li Xiaogong, took one look at that advice and did the exact opposite.
He charged.
The result was immediate disaster. Li Xiaogong's forces were smashed. The pursuing enemy scattered in excitement as they chased the fleeing Tang troops.
At that moment, Li Jing finally moved.
His hidden reserves struck from the flanks. The pursuers were caught completely off guard. What should have been a catastrophic defeat instantly turned into a crushing victory.
Step Three: After surrounding Jiangling, Li Jing gathered a huge number of captured enemy warships.
Everyone expected him to use them in battle.
Instead, he sent them floating downstream. Empty. No soldiers. No crews. No explanation.
The reinforcement armies advancing upriver spotted the enormous fleet drifting toward them. They immediately reached the most logical conclusion possible.
Jiangling had already fallen. Otherwise why would so many ships be abandoned?
Panic spread through the ranks. The relief forces turned around and retreated without even attempting a rescue.
A few days later, with no reinforcements coming and no hope left, Xiao Xian opened the gates and surrendered.
The war was over.
Two months. One major battle. An entire kingdom erased from the map.
For this achievement, Li Jing was promoted to Supreme Pillar of State and awarded the title Duke of Yongkang.
And this was only the beginning of his career.
Because from this point onward, Li Jing would develop a habit that would eventually terrify every neighboring nation.
Whenever he went to war, countries tended to stop existing afterward.]
It was nowhere near that simple," Li Jing said quickly, waving his hands in a frantic dismissive gesture.
"After all," the general clarified, his tone utterly serious, "scouting the enemy borders, drafting the grand strategy, and patiently waiting for the perfect weather conditions took over six months of grueling preparation."
Despite his humble words, the corners of Li Jing's mouth kept twitching upward. He was trying so hard not to smile. And failing.
Every other official in Ganlu Hall turned their heads simultaneously, glaring at the old man with sideways, venomous looks.
Okay. We believe whatever you say. We'll just listen to this absolute nonsense.
We know who this guy was. Xiao Xian declared himself emperor. Sat behind solid stone walls. Controlled the best choke points in the south. Had four hundred thousand armored veterans.
And you fought him for two months. And beat him so badly his own mother wouldn't recognize him anymore.
And now this old man is acting like deleting an entire kingdom in eight months is... modest?
One official whispered to another, "Eight months."
The other nodded slowly. "Including paperwork."
"Six months of paperwork."
"...That's still only eight months total."
They exchanged glances.
"This man is impossible."
"Shh. He's going to be a god. He can probably hear you."
Unlike his glaring cabinet, Emperor Li Shimin simply nodded with supreme, airy nonchalance.
"Not bad," the Emperor said smoothly. Like he was judging a student's calligraphy homework. Not a kingdom-erasing military campaign.
The assembled ministers looked at the smug, smiling Emperor. Then they looked at the faux-humble, grinning old general.
Okay, you're the emperor. We really believe you. Even when you say "not bad."
EIGHT MONTHS. FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND TROOPS. A FORTRESS GUAN YU HIMSELF DEFENDED.
And he says "not bad"?
One official whispered, "Did he just say 'not bad'?"
The other whispered back, "I heard it too."
"To destroying an entire kingdom?"
"Apparently."
The first official looked around the room. At the smug emperor. At the grinning general. At all the other officials who were nodding along like this was perfectly normal.
"...Is there any normal person in this room?" he muttered. "Why do I feel like everyone here is way too competent?"
His colleague patted his shoulder. "Welcome to the Zhenguan era."
"That's not comforting."
"It's not supposed to be."
Then they remembered. Just last year, they had completely wiped the mighty Eastern Turkic Khaganate off the map in a matter of months.
Oh.
Suddenly, Li Jing's absurd achievement didn't seem quite so impossible anymore.
A collective realization hit the officials of the Zhenguan era.
They finally understood the horrific meaning of that future internet slang.
Involution.
The hyper-competitive meat grinder.
One official sighed. "We're the meat grinder, aren't we?"
Prime Minister Du Ruhui sighed deeply in the quiet confines of his own mind.
With so many terrifying geniuses leading the charge, being a victorious general in the Great Tang is incredibly easy.
He paused.
But with so many terrifying geniuses competing for the same limited glory...
Being a famous general in the Great Tang is absolute hell.
Another sigh.
I need a vacation.
---
Back in the command center of Chengdu, Liu Bei was drowning in admiration for the Duke of Wei.
When Liu Bei was in his late forties, he was sitting in a tavern in Jingzhou, crying because he rode his horse so infrequently that his thighs were getting fat.
Fat thighs, he thought bitterly. While Li Jing was out there deleting kingdoms.
And now here was this Tang general, turning fifty, taking command of an army, and forging a legend of fire and blood. The man never stopped fighting.
Liu Bei felt a deep, gnawing confusion.
Is warfare actually this easy for some people?
He had read the screen carefully. He noted exactly where Li Jing's "Step One" took place. The Tang general had effortlessly conquered the fortress of Yiling.
Yes. That Yiling.
The exact same cursed piece of land where Liu Bei had suffered the most catastrophic, empire-shattering defeat of his entire life.
Zhang Fei turned his head toward Zhuge Liang. He offered his chief strategist a look of profound, mocking pity.
"Kongming," Zhang Fei rumbled, "you really need to see how this guy operates."
That single sentence pushed Zhuge Liang over the edge.
"Go away," Zhuge Liang snapped, waving his feather fan in deep disgust. "I have been diligently practicing my Wuqinxi health exercises every single day! I will absolutely live past the age of seventy! Just watch me!"