Chapter 611: Calming

Though it was deep night, turmoil stirred deep within the imperial palace.

No one could have anticipated that, at this moment, the Emperor inside Yongchang Palace would suddenly issue an edict: suspend court for three days, order all officials to remain at home, and forbid anyone from leaving the capital without a royal summons; moreover, at this very moment, the Emperor summoned all Embroidered Uniform Guards—these two actions filled everyone with the scent of a storm brewing.

Yet no one could guess the reason.

Only Prince Xin now had a faint inkling.

"Prince Xin, His Majesty commands you to enter Yongchang Palace and present yourself."

Jin Tong Wei Wang Ning reappeared on the steps, her pale golden eyes fixed on Prince Xin, her face expressionless.

"Your servant obeys."

Prince Xin shuddered, then replied, slowly rising from the ground.

He felt his limbs cold and his body light as if his soul might drift away.

Gazing at the brightly lit Yongchang Palace, Prince Xin's expression shifted uncertainly—he felt that if he stepped inside today, he would never walk out; perhaps he would be executed on the spot for patricide and rebellion the moment he crossed the threshold, or be handed a cup of poison and die instantly, or vanish without a trace, leaving not a single trace of Prince Xin in this world?

"Prince Xin, do not delay." Jin Tong Wei Wang Ning whispered a reminder.

Prince Xin snapped back to himself, took a deep breath, and said, "I lost my composure just now. My apologies."

He abandoned his wild thoughts and immediately ascended the steps of white marble.

At this moment, Prince Xin felt the white marble steps were not so long—perhaps even too short; if he could keep walking like this forever, perhaps it would be a kind of happiness—why face such earth-shattering matters?

But as he walked, his steps grew firmer.

Perhaps he had accepted his fate; perhaps he realized escape was impossible, and so he embraced death without fear.

"Prince Xin, follow me."

Jin Tong Wei Wang Ning gestured, then led the way, guiding Prince Xin toward the grand hall.

"Yongchang Palace."

Prince Xin lifted his head slightly, gazing at the hall—he remembered he had overseen its construction when he was still a prince.

The words "Yongchang" derived from the phrase: "Blessed by Heaven, long-lived and enduring."

At the hall's entrance, two other Jin Tong Wei blocked him; he understood why, raised his arms, and allowed them to search him thoroughly—for no hidden weapons, poisons, or unknown ornaments—no exception, even for a prince.

After the search concluded, Prince Xin was permitted to enter.

As the two stepped inside the hall.

The vast, brightly lit hall echoed with their clear footsteps; on either side, sandalwood incense curled, carved auspicious beasts adorned the walls, radiating majesty, and upon the main dais stood a golden dragon throne, beside which lay a black-furred, golden-striped tiger.

It was a spirit that had cultivated into a tiger, granted the title Black Mountain Lord by the current Emperor, its power extraordinary.

"Your servant bows before Your Majesty."

Prince Xin stepped forward two paces, knelt, dared not glance at the dragon throne above, and bowed deeply.

"Rise, Rui." A deep, resonant voice echoed through the hall.

"Thank you, Father."

Prince Xin stood, his peripheral vision catching only the Black Mountain Lord lying beside the throne—he saw no sign of his father.

Then, from the rear chamber, a tall, broad-shouldered man in black-and-gold imperial robes slowly emerged; the moment he appeared, the air thickened instantly, imperial aura spreading, squeezing hearts into involuntary contractions—before even seeing him, one felt as if a true dragon were drawing near.

The gulf between life levels was truly terrifying.

This sensation was identical to that of the Taiyi Daoist.

Prince Xin's heart tightened; he forced himself to inhale deeply several times, lest he suffocate and faint.

"Rui, did you see that letter?" the current Son of Heaven asked.

"I saw it—I watched the Daoist write it myself, but my learning is shallow, and I could not read the characters upon it." Prince Xin's scalp prickled, yet he answered honestly.

"Did you see that man?" the Emperor asked again.

Prince Xin replied, "I saw him."

"Tell me," the Emperor's voice softened slightly, then he slowly ascended the dais.

Prince Xin thought for a moment and said, "Last night at the hour of Xu, I was hosting guests in the Yaoxing Tower within my mansion in Xinzhou, attempting to emulate ancient sages seeking immortality. Midway through the banquet, when my ritual failed, I blurted out a verse my father once recited: 'How much sorrow can one bear? Like spring river water flowing eastward.' No sooner had I spoken than a Daoist suddenly appeared outside the Yaoxing Tower's window."

"That Daoist called himself Taiyi, stepping upon crimson auspicious clouds, like a celestial immortal."

He revealed everything he had seen and heard, without concealment.

The Emperor, now seated upon the dragon throne, listened calmly, expression serene, offering no interruption.

Soon,

Prince Xin finished recounting the matter, then fell silent, standing still, head bowed.

"So, the Taiyi Daoist is now in the capital?" After a long pause, the Emperor spoke.

"Your servant confirms: the Taiyi Daoist is in the capital," Prince Xin replied. "Where are the Embroidered Uniform Guards?" Suddenly, the Emperor barked.

Instantly,

Outside the hall, Embroidered Uniform Guards appeared abruptly, hands on their sword hilts, kneeling on one knee, silent, awaiting the Emperor's command.

"Any news of the Taiyi Daoist?" the Emperor asked.

"Your Majesty," replied one of the Embroidered Uniform Guard Commanders, named Lu Bin, a sturdy middle-aged man with an ordinary face but piercing eyes that glowed faintly in the dark, "we received a secret report from Battalion Commander Liu Lingyun of the capital's Embroidered Uniform Guards: the Taiyi Daoist is aboard a flower boat on Xianghu Lake."

"Find the Taiyi Daoist, invite him into the palace—I wish to meet him. Lu Bin, you will go personally. You are granted passage through the Imperial Way."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Commander Lu Bin accepted the order and swiftly led a squad of Embroidered Uniform Guards away.

Their movements were swift, faster than leopards; in moments, they vanished entirely, as if dissolved into darkness, soon leaving the palace, where horses were already prepared—they mounted them instantly and rode along the Imperial Way straight toward the capital.

"Listen carefully: His Majesty wishes to invite the Taiyi Daoist into the palace. Stay sharp—don't botch this mission. Also remember: the Taiyi Daoist's power is terrifying. The several Battalion Commanders assigned to surveillance were injured before they could even act. Know your own limits. Ride!"

Not a single word, not a single detail, was missed!

Commander Lu Bin barked, then spurred his horse forward; though he kept his voice low, every Embroidered Uniform Guard heard clearly and understood instantly.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards immediately followed.

They had imperial authorization to ride the Imperial Way.

Their appearance startled many.

No precedent existed for Embroidered Uniform Guards to ride the Imperial Way, for they were covert agents, usually operating in secrecy, rarely acting so openly.

As the Embroidered Uniform Guards departed,

Within Yongchang Palace,

the Emperor still fixed his gaze on Prince Xin and spoke again: "Rui, you're hiding something from me. The Taiyi Daoist will arrive at the palace soon. Will you tell me now—or later?"

At these words, Prince Xin's heart lurched; he gritted his teeth, knelt, and said, "Father, the Taiyi Daoist claimed he is not of this world, and declared that the author of 'Yu Meiren' is likewise not of this world. I believe this Daoist spreads heretical words to undermine the state's foundation. I dare to plead, at the risk of my life: Your Majesty, execute this demon Daoist before disaster strikes."

As he spoke, he slammed his forehead hard against the ground.

It was the only solution he could think of: kill the Taiyi Daoist, then pretend the event never happened, as if it had all been yesterday.

Yet Prince Xin had already prepared himself to be executed on the spot—but even if he died, he would not die as a fool; he must know whether this was true or false.

Yet the Emperor upon the throne showed no anger, remaining calm, and spoke slowly: "The Taiyi Daoist spoke truly—he is not of this world, but a cultivator who crossed realms, hence his ability to ride clouds and summon wind and rain. But this is not extraordinary. Over millennia, countless sages and extraordinary beings have emerged in every dynasty; some surely came from other realms."

"Father…" Prince Xin looked up in shock, staring at the Emperor upon the throne.

His father's reaction stunned him—not only calm, but casually accepting the claim.

Now the Emperor slowly descended the dais, his golden vertical pupils gazing far into the distance: "Rui, I know what you fear, and I know your resentment. When I first ascended the throne, you, still a prince not yet of age, were made Prince Xin and sent far from the capital. Do you know why?"

"Your servant does not know," Prince Xin replied, trembling slightly.

"How many gods do you think exist in this world?"

Prince Xin said, "Villages have Earth Gods, mountains have Mountain Gods, rivers have River Lords, clans have ancestral halls—countless gods of incense worship, some officially sanctioned by court, others self-established by mountain spirits as illicit shrines, yet most are relics from past dynasties: some still controllable, others have seized mountains as their kingdoms, beyond discipline."

"Correct. I am pleased you hold such insight."

The Emperor stood with hands behind his back, his dragon eyes blazing as if surveying the realm: "There are too many incense gods, Rui. Tell me—is this world mine, or theirs? Can my edict truly command the spirits and gods of the land? The Four Guardian Gods of the State have endured twelve dynasties—do you think they regard me with respect? In my view, the spirits and demons of this world are too numerous. It is time for change. Today, we break mountains and destroy temples."

Instantly, Prince Xin broke into cold sweat—only his father would dare speak such words. Who among the nobles of the land would dare utter such things?

Remember: above every head, three feet, there are gods.

If this were to spread, gods would enter dreams tonight, stealing souls and seizing spirits.

"Rui, you are my blood, supremely intelligent. If I fail in what I intend, I will face retribution. Making you Prince Xin and sending you far from the capital is the only way I could think of to protect you." Here, he sighed softly, then looked at Prince Xin.

"Had I no such ambition to reshape heaven and earth, how fine a father-son bond we might have been. Why must we now distrust each other? Rui, do you know why I named you Prince Xin?"

"Your servant does not know." Now, Prince Xin wept openly, silent sobs shaking his frame.

"One who speaks with unshakable authority—that is 'Xin.'"

"Father…"

Prince Xin could no longer hold back—he knelt and wept uncontrollably.

He realized he had misunderstood his father; his father did not neglect him—he had planned deeply, seeking to challenge the incense gods for dominion over the realm, and had sent him away to shield him from the coming storm.

He had not understood at all; instead, he had indulged in pleasure, sought immortality, and sunk into decay—how utterly foolish.

The Emperor stepped before him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said: "The Crown Prince is often ill. You must strive."

(End of Chapter)