Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

"Yue, the ultimate hegemon, truly arrogant in its stance…"

Su Kai reviewed the demands issued by Yue's envoy. Every feudal lord capable of mobilizing an army of ten thousand was summoned to Di for a grand alliance, where they would acknowledge Yue's supremacy as hegemon of the feudal lords.

The choice of location was intriguing. Just a few years ago, King Yi of Yue had taken advantage of Tian He's preoccupation with solidifying his control over Qi, launching an attack on Di. The local ruler of Di, loyal to Qi and dismissive of Yue, had assumed Qi would provide support. However, Qi's acting leader, Tian He, had hesitated to dispatch troops, fearing that the generals might align with the Jiang family's Lü clan and turn against him.

Tian He's mind was consumed with plans to exterminate the Qi royal family. Losing a minor ally was a small price to pay. Facing Yue head-on, however, would jeopardize his entire clan if his bid for Qi's rulership failed.

The result was inevitable: Di was destroyed. Yue chose this site to flaunt its military might by convening a feudal alliance.

Yet Su Kai understood that this marked the twilight of Yue's glory. In King Yi's later years, Yue would descend into chaos as its nobles waged internal wars, a period known as the "Disasters of the Feuding Nobles," lasting until Wu Zhuan restored order decades later.

"Attending might not be a bad idea. It would be an opportunity to explore this divine age of Huaxia."

From his private collection, Su Kai had learned that the Huaxia people were in an era of great division. Not only did they lack a unified language, currency, or customs, but even their systems of measurement were inconsistent.

In earlier times, the distinction between Huaxia and the "barbarians" was often blurred. Many feudal lords employed barbarians to attack other feudal states, leading to events such as the barbarian Shen Rong, who had been ennobled as a feudal lord, attacking and killing the Zhou king.

"Shen Rong was already a feudal lord, yet he killed the king just to secure a crown prince position…"

Su Kai found this baffling, amazed at Shen Hou's train of thought.

Not that it ended well for him. The Zhou court relocated eastward, while their ancestral lands in the west were granted to the Qin state. Shen was swiftly eradicated by Qin's capable rulers over the generations.

"Are all barbarians so unfathomable in their thinking?"

After pondering for a moment, Su Kai decided to observe the Chidi people.

The Chidi didn't build cities despite knowing how to. They could construct settlements as efficiently as anyone, yet they refused to reside within them. For example, Su Kai had tasked them with building the Su state capital, Wenyang, which they completed impeccably.

However, when invited to live in the city, they declined, claiming that mountain-dwelling wildfolk found it inconvenient. Their ancestors had lived this way for generations, and they had grown accustomed to it.

"Your Grace, you have arrived," said a burly man named Yi, his face brimming with genuine gratitude. "For you to care about us lowly wildfolk like this, how could we ever repay such kindness?"

"How should we show our gratitude for your benevolence?"

"...Yi, what is the literacy rate among your Chidi people?" Su Kai stood atop a mountain, gazing down at the figures below, bustling like ants. "How many can read and write? How many understand magic?"

"We wildfolk have no written language. Even our spoken tongue was learned from the civilized Huaxia people," Yi replied with unwavering respect. "That's why the great sage Confucius deemed us unteachable barbarians and advocated the distinction between Huaxia and the barbarians."

"The distinction between Huaxia and barbarians…" As a modern man, Su Kai didn't agree with such views. Just because customs differed, branding others as enemies seemed unnecessarily extreme.

Besides, the feudal lords of Huaxia hardly adhered to Zhou rites themselves. They killed each other as much as the barbarians did.

Thus, Su Kai remarked, "I don't subscribe to such ideas. Confucius was a sage of two centuries ago. His principles may have been relevant to his era but might not apply today…"

"Moreover, the teachings of a man who's been dead for two hundred years surely cannot govern the present!"

History is a spiral of upward progress. Any veneration of antiquity is folly. The policies of ancient wise kings, no matter how laudable, are ill-suited for the present.

Even the decrees of contemporary rulers—whether benevolent or tyrannical—lose their original intent within two or three years, twisted by the nobility into tools for their benefit.

Take the Zhou rites, now revered by all Huaxia. From a modern perspective, even rudimentary feudal systems seem more advanced.

Yi lowered his head, only to raise it again with tear-filled eyes. He choked up as he said, "Your Grace, you are the first to defend us barbarians…"

---

"So, the fate of a good person is naturally to have everything taken from them..."

Yi stood at the gates of Wenyang, his figure silhouetted against a mass of over a hundred thousand Di people—red Di, long Di, and a few white Di among them.

The white Di were the most powerful of the tribes and had sent few members. They were already plotting to establish their own kingdom within Jin, with the planned state name being Zhongshan.

Su Kai had already departed Wenyang. He had gone to respond to the summons of the Spring and Autumn hegemon. Unlike the other feudal lords, however, he brought nothing with him—no retainers, no soldiers. Just himself, an eleven-year-old child, heading alone to Di to attend the feudal alliance.

From atop the city walls, Su Ming gazed impassively at the gathering of tens of thousands of Di tribesmen. His calm eyes revealed no emotion as he sighed, "So young... one careless move, and he's stirred up such chaos."

"But perhaps it's for the best. If we must trade the lives of every last citizen of Su for Kai to learn caution toward the barbarians, then so be it. Otherwise, that naive, kind-hearted fool will eventually be killed by them."

Fully aware of his impending death, Su Ming felt no sorrow. He had long accepted Su's inevitable downfall. These extra years as ruler, thanks to Su Kai, were already a blessing.

Besides, he was tired.

That's why he never tried to dissuade Su Kai with words. Instead, he silently observed the boy's actions over the past few years. Eventually, a faint smile of satisfaction appeared on his face. "That kid... he's truly capable. Even if he doesn't remain king, he could easily rise to high office in another state."

"Biao, take the last of the nation's treasures and seek out your master. After you've done this, you are free to live for yourself."

Turning to the loyal retainers standing behind him, Su Ming said, "Today, we face death together. By following me to the grave, you fulfill the oaths you swore long ago."

"Distribute weapons to every citizen of the city. And I will activate Su's final gambit."

The Su clan carried an ancient legacy, dating back to the late Xia dynasty when they had joined Cheng Tang in taking control of the Central Plains. The most infamous figure among their ancestors was Su Hu's daughter, Su Daji, the nine-tailed fox who became a byword for calamity as a royal consort.

That "Nine-Tailed Demon Fox," blamed for the downfall of a nation, was, in truth, an exalted solar deity.

Su Ming opened a hidden chamber within the royal palace. Gazing up at a depiction of a golden-masked, white-furred nine-tailed fox, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and murmured, "Unworthy descendants such as I have failed. If the ancestral temple is to fall today, better for our ancestor herself to destroy it."

Though the world knew little of the truth, the Su clan understood well the true nature of Su Daji. They also knew that their capricious, ill-tempered ancestor was unlikely to have left behind any "gentle" solutions.

For this reason, despite enduring centuries of humiliation at the hands of neighboring states and neglect from the Zhou kings, the Su clan had never dared to unleash her power.

But now, Su Ming had no regrets. Though the temple and state might perish, the clan's bloodline would endure, ensuring the ancestors would not be without worship.

---

Yi stared at the spectral image of the nine-tailed fox hovering above the palace, his gaze gleaming with greed. Tearing open his clothes, he revealed a striking symbol etched onto his body—a majestic mountain pheasant.

It was the totem of the Chidi people: the Long-tailed Mountain Pheasant.

"A mere nine-tailed fox… thankfully, it's just a totem, not a deity, let alone a Celestial Emperor."

Yi felt a flicker of hope. In the divine era of Huaxia, totem gods were the prevailing forces, but above them stood the Celestial Emperors of each state.

For example, Qin revered the Four Emperors, Qi had its Eight Lords, Chu worshiped Taiyi, and Jin honored Haotian.

Beneath these supreme deities were gods such as Dongjun, the Lords of Wind and Rain, and the Thunder God and Lightning Mother—all of whom surpassed totem gods.

For a totem god to ascend to the rank of a true celestial deity, it would need to devour other totems.

The nine-tailed fox totem was rare, but the white-furred, golden-masked nine-tailed fox was something else entirely.

It symbolized the solar deity—a being of exalted power, one of the most revered deities in the divine era, even on a global scale.

The mountain pheasant totem on Yi's body grew increasingly animated. The gathered Chidi people could even hear its excited cries.

The image of the nine-tailed fox above the palace grew sharper, though it still fell short of the tangible presence of the nine-tailed fox Su Kai had summoned that day.

Wenyang had already fallen. Yi's mountain pheasant totem had manifested in its full form, a vivid, living entity. Just as it prepared to lunge at the nine-tailed fox, everything came to a halt.

Because a second sun had appeared in the sky.

"When Xihe's chariot is yet to rise, how can brilliance flourish?"

In the end, all Yi could hear was this grand and desolate song echoing across the heavens. He let out a resigned sigh.

"Really? Such a method, and it's never been revealed before. Huaxia people are truly despicable."

"What a shame I won't get to see the look on the young lord's face when he returns. That expression would have been priceless."

"Hm… but what does 'priceless' even mean?"

And then, all returned to nothingness.

---

Su Kai arrived at Di, only to find himself both amused and exasperated. The so-called feudal alliance was attended by none of the major states: Qi, Chu, Jin, and Qin, each capable of commanding tens of thousands of troops, were absent. Even the middling states like Zheng, Wei, Lu, and Song hadn't bothered to send representatives. Only a few scattered minor states had shown up.

Initially, Su Kai considered turning back, but since he had already made the journey, he decided to stay and see it through.

Though he had come alone, in this era where bloodlines determined status, a noble was respected wherever they went. In fact, King Yi of Yue seemed rather pleased—another feudal lord had arrived, further bolstering his claim as hegemon.

But after someone whispered something into King Yi's ear, his expression became strangely complicated. He cast Su Kai a few glances, as though wanting to say something, but ultimately chose not to. With a slight nod, he announced the commencement of the alliance.

The rituals of the alliance were drawn-out and cumbersome, stretching over several days. Although the major states had sent no representatives, the Zhou king had bestowed sacrificial meat as a token of recognition, effectively legitimizing Yue's hegemony.

Su Kai spent each day conversing with the other lords. Initially, he simply observed their discussions, but before long, he began offering his own suggestions. His sharp insights consistently identified the crux of every issue, and his solutions were precise and effective.

Word of Su Kai's brilliance spread rapidly among the feudal lords.

This was the best way for nobles and statesmen to gain renown in this era. According to the Zhou rites, society was rigidly divided into hierarchical tiers: kings, feudal lords, high ministers, scholars, commoners, and slaves.

The Zhou rites dictated everything, from what each class ate at meals to their daily activities, their scale of entertainment, and even the specifics of their burial rites.

Fame in this era was exclusively the domain of the aristocracy. The commoners and slaves, who made up the overwhelming majority of the population, had neither the platform nor the means to make their voices heard.

History remembered only heroes, prodigies, wise rulers, and virtuous ministers—not the faceless masses.

On the final day of the alliance, King Yi of Yue invited Su Kai to provide counsel.

All the other lords had already sought Su Kai's advice, so it was only fitting that the most important figure waited until the end.

"Lord Kai," King Yi asked, "what do you think of my kingdom?"

"A setting sun," Su Kai replied bluntly. "In the past, King Goujian of Yue endured humiliation and hardship, rallying three thousand Yue warriors to destroy Wu. But just as Wu failed to subjugate Yue after its initial victory, Yue now struggles to dominate Wu."

"The old nobility of Wu and the aristocracy of Yue are locked in an ever-deepening conflict. Meanwhile, Your Majesty has focused solely on expanding your dominance, neglecting to address these domestic tensions or the internal strife within the Yue royal family. In my view, while Yue may currently hold the title of hegemon, it is a kingdom in decline, far surpassed by Jin, Chu, Qin, and Qi."

The late Spring and Autumn era was defined by the rivalry between Wu and Yue. For a century, they were the only hegemonic powers.

But this dominance was conditional. Jin and Chu had fought each other for centuries, exhausting their resources through constant warfare. Jin, seeking an advantage, had supported Wu from the shadows, sharing its advanced military strategies and tactics.

Chu, unwilling to be outdone, allied with Qin through marriage and provided Yue with arms and formations, ensuring Yue could act as a counterbalance to Wu.

This proxy war between Jin and Chu meant that the outcome of the Wu-Yue struggle would ultimately decide whether Jin could invade Chu.

Wu, bolstered by the military genius of Wu Zixu and the tactical brilliance of Sun Wu, achieved unprecedented success, even capturing the Chu capital.

Jin should have seized the opportunity to march south and annihilate Chu, uniting north and south into a single superpower. However, Jin itself was plunged into chaos due to the internecine strife of the Six Clans. After a century of bloodshed, Jin fractured into three states: Zhao, Wei, and Han.

This left Chu severely weakened but not beyond recovery. Given a century of rebuilding, Chu's strength gradually returned to its peak, ensuring that neither Wu nor Yue could match it in the long run.

"Is that so?" King Yi chuckled, skeptical but not angry. "Your theory is intriguing, Lord Kai. In recent years, Chu has sent hostages to Yue annually, and while they recently recalled their crown prince, citing the queen's death as an excuse, they continue to pay tribute yearly."

"Since the days of my ancestor, King Goujian, Yue has held hegemonic status for generations. Jin is fractured, Qi is consumed by internal strife, Qin is too remote on the frontier, and my Yue lies near the Central Plains. Who, then, can challenge Yue for supremacy?"

"Still, your observations hold merit. Why not come to Yue? I would appoint you as a high minister."

This was an era where lineage dictated status. Despite being an eleven-year-old foreigner, Su Kai's noble blood meant he could be offered such a position without ever proving himself in battle.

Su Kai sighed and shook his head. "To so recklessly appoint a mere child as high minister… King Yi, this only strengthens my belief that Yue's fall is inevitable if you continue like this."

Ah, this kid…

At last, King Yi grew angry. He sneered, "You're right. I was so desperate to recruit talent that I nearly forgot you are a fool who advocates treating barbarians as citizens. Are you sure you're not a man of Song?"

"My lands include a portion of the Huaiyi. But don't think for a moment I'd listen to someone urging me to accept the Huaiyi as equals!"

"Escort him out, escort him out!"

Su Kai sighed helplessly. "The Zhou rites divide society into rigid tiers, but must the commoners also be stratified?"

Not only were there distinctions between slaves and nobles, but even commoners were split into "citizens" and "wildfolk," with only citizens eligible to serve in the army.

King Yi noticed Su Kai's resolute expression and realized there was no convincing him otherwise.

Still, acknowledging the boy's determination to travel alone from Wenyang to Di for the alliance, King Yi offered one final piece of advice:

"Lord Kai, I must remind you—barbarians are wild and untamable. They've opposed the civilized Huaxia for millennia, long before the distinction of Huaxia and the barbarians even existed."

"Since the days of Xia Qi, when the concept of hereditary rule began, the barbarians have been at odds with Huaxia civilization. Why do you think no sage-king has ever succeeded in taming them?"

"Because you never treated them as human," Su Kai replied calmly, unmoved. "If you can't even treat your own subjects as people, how could you possibly extend that courtesy to outsiders?"

"Any failure in enlightenment lies not with them, but with your methods."

"Is that so?" King Yi burst into laughter, then finally gave up on further argument. Rising to his feet, he looked at Su Kai and said, "Very well. I look forward to the day you succeed in enlightening the barbarians. May your name be etched into history."

---

On his return journey to Wenyang, Su Kai encountered Biao, a retainer of his father and a loyal servant of the Su clan.

With a sound like wind and thunder, a tall, gaunt man appeared before him. Kneeling on one knee, Biao handed Su Kai a bamboo slip and solemnly reported, "Young Lord, Su has fallen. The king perished in sacrifice, and he entrusted me with the Su clan's final treasures to deliver to you."

"Su has fallen…" Su Kai had anticipated this outcome, suspecting it was tied to his dealings with the Di tribes.

"Yes. The Di people you 'tamed' led the Long Di and White Di into our lands, destroying Su together."

Biao's face flickered with emotions—anger, disgust, sorrow—before finally settling into resignation. His voice was heavy with exhaustion as he let out a long sigh. "Ah…"

"The task the king gave me is complete. The five of us once made a pact to die with him and the state. Now I am the last, arriving too late."

With those words, Biao unsheathed his sword and slit his throat.

Warm blood splattered onto Su Kai's face. He wiped it off absentmindedly, confusion clouding his features.

"This shouldn't have happened. Was I not good enough to them?"

"No. The Red Di and the Huaxia people are not the same. They are not like humans."

A trace of bewilderment flickered in Su Kai's eyes. He thought he had observed humanity deeply enough, but now he realized it wasn't enough.

Had he truly understood the Red Di, such a tragedy might have been avoided.

Had he truly mastered enlightenment, he should have already subdued the Red Di.

Thus, he resolved to continue striving, to keep learning.

"My understanding of this era isn't deep enough." Su Kai tucked the bamboo slip away, determined to leave it untouched for now.

In terms of knowledge, the wisdom of the ancients was outdated, no longer suited to this era.

In terms of magic, the only limit to Su Kai's abilities was his imagination. If he so wished, he could create any spell the world had never seen.

---

[At twelve years old, you began traveling across the Huaxia states. Your actions attracted mockery from the feudal lords, and some even began writing satirical tales about you.]

"Once, there was a man from Song, who foolishly trusted the barbarians…"

Yet you stood firm in your convictions. You believed the failure of enlightenment stemmed from your lack of true understanding of the Red Di people—an inability to grasp what they truly desired.

You realized that what the Huaxia people sought might not appeal to the Red Di, and what the Red Di cherished might be meaningless to the Huaxia.

Thus, attempting to enlighten the Red Di through the values of the Huaxia people was doomed to fail from the start.

You began contemplating a new approach.

[At thirteen, you were still at a loss. You engaged with numerous barbarian tribes: the Gui Fang, Quanrong, and Yiqu on the western frontier; the Di in the Central Plains; the Yi to the east; and the assorted Hu tribes to the north.]

But all of them rejected your attempts at enlightenment. Worse, the moment you left, they resumed their slaughter.

Your gentleness and benevolence proved utterly useless and, in fact, led to even greater suffering for others.

With your magic, you could easily subdue them, bending them to your will. But you still held hope for the barbarians. You refused to let magic override human wisdom, believing that thought was the greatest power in the world.

Only vibrant thought could spark boundless creativity and possibilities.

[At fourteen, your efforts remained fruitless. Without exerting direct control over humanity, you could not prevent a single act of bloodshed.]

You were under no obligation to save others. Even if a barbarian tribe committed mass slaughter before your very eyes, you could choose to stand idly by.

But once you intervened in another's karma, you knew you had to see it through. Half-measures were not an option. You would either refrain entirely or commit wholly.

And yet, the hostility of the barbarians toward the Huaxia people seemed etched into their very souls. No matter what you tried, you could not enlighten them.

[At fifteen, you made no progress in your quest for enlightenment and finally abandoned the path of solitary exploration.]

While your knowledge had grown deep and profound through your studies of history, the sages and philosophers whose names were immortalized in the annals of time must also possess wisdom worth heeding.

You chose to embark on a journey to learn from the various philosophical schools of the states, hoping their teachings could refine and enrich your ideas.

"The stone of another mountain may be used to polish jade." Enlightening the barbarians was a subject the schools had dabbled in, as had many feudal lords. Yet no school or ruler had ever completed this monumental task.

[At sixteen, you returned to your homeland, only to find it had been annexed by the state of Han.]

With your power, reclaiming your ancestral lands would have been effortless. But you chose not to act.

"The workings of Heaven are constant: they do not preserve Yao, nor do they destroy Zhou. The fall of the Su state aligns with the cyclical laws of history."

There was no need for you to interfere, especially since you had no desire to become a king.

You turned away and made your way to Zheng. By this time, Zheng was already crumbling under the relentless pressure of Han.

---

T/N: Damn to Su Kai everyone is a barbarian huh

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