Chapter 79

Upon hearing this, Li Zhu's expression shifted several times as he asked:

"Is Li Zhi truly so valuable that His Majesty treats him with such special favor?"

Li Que shook his head and said:

"In my view, he is an extremely troublesome opponent—equally skilled in civil and military affairs, a flawless statesman."

"When His Majesty had our seven brothers enter court service, only the sixth refused to take any post; the other six were assigned to the Six Ministries. You must still recall Li Zhi's astonishing achievements in the Ministry of Revenue."

"To be frank, even I and the eldest brother fall short of him."

Hearing this, Li Zhu's face flushed with shame, and a flicker of gloom passed through his eyes as he said:

"I must admit this—when I commanded the Ministry of War, even without the Yunzhou mutiny, my accomplishments still fell far behind yours three."

Three years ago, Emperor Yuanwu ordered that each Imperial Prince be given an equal chance to participate in governance, also serving as an evaluation of their abilities.

Though unspoken, everyone in court understood this move was meant to select the most capable prince, directly tied to the unresolved succession to the Great Li throne.

In the end, Emperor Yuanwu dismissed three princes—including Li Zhu—who failed to meet the standards, retaining only the eldest, the second, and the fake prince Li Zhi to oversee the Ministries of Rites, Personnel, and Revenue.

Just as Emperor Yuanwu prepared to evaluate these three princes further, the truth surfaced: twenty years ago, the seventh prince had been replaced.

As a result, Li Zhi was imprisoned in the Great Li imperial dungeon, and months have passed since—with no resolution yet.

At this moment, Li Que glanced at Li Zhu and smiled gently:

"Don't lose heart, third brother—you've simply had bad luck. From now on, you and I will work together and carve out a grand future for Great Li."

Li Zhu nodded firmly and bowed:

"Your humble brother follows only your lead."

"Third brother, you overstate it—we are brothers, not lord and subject."

Li Que waved his hand, then narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking for a moment before saying:

"You mentioned Li Zhi just now—I too have a lingering doubt. I understand His Majesty values talent and spared him, but to leave the seventh prince's position vacant for him is truly unexpected."

"Even if His Majesty wishes to favor him, granting him a marquisate or chancellorship would suffice—retaining his princely title goes too far."

Hearing this, Li Zhu merely frowned and sighed:

"His Majesty's thoughts—I simply cannot fathom them at all."

Li Que looked at him, then shook his head as well:

"If you can't figure it out, don't bother. Fortunately, Li Zhi isn't of our imperial bloodline. No matter how much favor he receives, His Majesty will never pass the throne to him—he poses no threat to us."

Li Zhu nodded. At that moment, a thunderous bronze gong rang out across the training ground.

The master who had earlier withstood the assault of three Wudao Sect masters alone had returned.

He had a soft, feminine face, wore a long green robe edged with embroidered patterns, a green jade sash, and stepped across the lake's lotus leaves with his hands behind his back, landing lightly on the training ground.

Then came several sharp whistles of air splitting—several martial artists of varying strength arrived in succession, landing not far from the soft-faced man.

Yet none of them paid attention to the soft-faced man; instead, like him, they all turned sharply, watching tensely toward the other end of the path leading to the training ground.

There, a hunched figure approached slowly, leaning on a rotting wooden cane, emerging from the path's end.

Seeing him, everyone—including the soft-faced man—went on high alert.

Soon, the hunched figure reached the edge of the training ground and stopped, slowly raising his head.

It was the face of an ordinary old man, yet for some reason, whenever they looked at him, they felt his features were unclear.

In moments, it shifted entirely into a different face; blink again, and it changed once more—strange and uncanny.

"Cough, cough—will you young ones attack together? Or take turns facing this old man?"

The hunched elder coughed a few times before speaking slowly.

The men on the training ground exchanged glances, their eyes filled with wariness, then spoke in unison:

"We humbly beg the elder master to instruct us."

Yet before their words had fully faded, the martial artists all erupted into action simultaneously.

Not a single one had any sense of honor or scruple about attacking an elder.

In an instant, blades flashed, sword qi surged—each unleashed their most lethal techniques, their deadliest strikes, as if determined to dismember the old man before them.

"Cough, cough—how enthusiastic you young ones are."

The hunched elder coughed once, then slowly raised his withered, stick-like hand.

Instantly, all blade light and sword qi vanished.

Next, every attacker suddenly raised both hands high and fell prostrate before the hunched elder, pounding their heads against the ground repeatedly—soon their foreheads split open, bleeding profusely, like fanatical worshippers in frantic obeisance.

Only the soft-faced man, who wielded the Light Great Cauldron Technique, remained motionless.

Now his entire body glowed with brilliant golden light, as if shrouded by a phantom golden cauldron, his defenses impenetrable, unbreakable.

The soft-faced man stared at the hunched elder and said coldly:

"I shall stand still—see if you can break through my defense…"

Yet before he finished speaking, the golden light around him suddenly dispersed.

He followed the others' fate, bowing his head to the hunched elder, pounding until his skin split and blood flowed freely—even his cries of pain were silenced.

"It's the Mutual Puppet Technique."

From the viewing stand, Wu Xiang Lao Ren narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke:

"I presume you are the Wu Xiang Lao Ren. Please forgive these young ones' ignorant disrespect—come closer and speak with me."

Wu Xiang Lao Ren's voice seemed soft, yet it echoed across the entire training ground, resonating like a great bell.

The Wu Xiang Lao Ren looked up toward the sound, then gently raised his hand:

"So you are the 'Exiled Immortal.' Old man greets you."

No sooner had the words left his lips than his figure vanished from where he stood, reappearing before Li Que and the others.

Simultaneously, the martial artists who had been pounding their heads stopped—none had crushed their skulls, and all fell silent.

However, seemingly due to exhaustion, everyone collapsed to the ground and fainted.

On the viewing platform, Li Zhu, witnessing this scene, suddenly found himself face-to-face with Wu Xiang Lao Ren just a few feet away, and for a moment could not help but feel his breath quicken.

However, upon seeing Zhe Lao seated nearby, he finally felt somewhat relieved.

At this moment, Li Que and Zhe Lao exchanged a glance, gazed at Wu Xiang Lao Ren before them, narrowed their eyes slightly, and asked:

"Old Senior, with such astonishing martial arts cultivation, do you truly wish to enter my residence and serve?"

(End of this chapter)