Chapter 12

Above the Royal City hidden deep in heavy fog, the sky was covered with dark clouds, black as ink. Behind the low-hanging cloud layer, golden-snake-like lightning flashed from time to time, as if wanting to pierce the firmament and cleave the mountains and rivers. The heavens had changed, the stars had shifted, yin and yang were confused, the sun was hidden and the moon had vanished; everything seemed to be signaling a destructive power, making one look on with awe.

Just after Qielan and the others entered the formation through the Xunmen, an old man in gray robes suddenly appeared in the Kanmen to the north.

No one knew when he had appeared or why he had appeared in the Royal City. Facing this Qimen formation launched with the power of spirit stones, his face seemed to have a slight look of gravity, followed by a cold laugh. His figure swayed slightly, and he disappeared into the empty city gate.

The Nine-Turn Exquisite Array had eight gates and eight realms, each forming its own world and each different. Inside the Kanmen, it was not like the Xunmen with giant rocks blocking the way; instead, it was empty within the thin mist, a scene of plainness and harmony. A corner of gray robes appeared and disappeared in the mist; the old man appeared again, already at the center of the formation. He closed his eyes and pondered for a moment, then walked straight toward the due north.

Just as he turned, the surrounding scenery suddenly changed.

A clear breeze passed through, the clouds opened and the mist dispersed. The outline of the entire Royal City gradually appeared: a magnificent golden palace stood in the center of the Royal City, overlooking three thousand waves of blue, surrounded by floating clouds and flying bridges. Eighty-one flying bridges crisscrossed and connected, suspended in the air, yet not a single one could reach the golden palace. Thousands of surrounding palaces were all hidden beneath dense, flourishing flowers. As gusts of wind passed, flowers fell like a sea, silent, endless, and boundless.

The various appearances in the formation flickered and intertwined; being in it was like walking through a beautiful dream, making one unable to help but feel a desire to linger. But the gray-robed old man was completely unaffected, walking straight ahead. When he stepped onto the white jade floating bridge lying across the lake waves in the center, the star signs suddenly appeared above the heavy fog, and the illusions on all sides vanished completely. The palaces, jade terraces, shimmering lights, and flower shadows all turned into flying smoke and dust.

The magnificent Royal Palace was right in front, but on the plaza paved with jade stones, a huge chessboard was vaguely revealed.

The chessboard had seventeen lines horizontally and vertically, carved deep into the flat stone. The black pieces were like ink, and the white pieces were like jade, scattered to form an ancient Zhenlong puzzle. The old man took one look and could not help but stop in his tracks.

One must know that this gray-robed old man was of extraordinary origin. Since childhood, he had been exceptionally clever, with heaven-sent talent, widely read in books, and well-versed in both ancient and modern times. Not only had he achieved great success in martial arts, but he was also proficient in astronomy, geography, the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, and military strategy. It was only more than a decade ago that he encountered a change, left his country and home, changed his name, and hid himself in the world of martial arts, immersing himself in zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting for leisure. But he was, after all, a person of extremely high ambition; once he studied something thoroughly, he naturally had a desire for victory and perfection. Several years ago, he had vowed to break all the Zhenlong puzzles set by the ancients, and had successively obtained several ancient chess manuals to break them one by one. The Zhenlong puzzle before him was none other than a dead-end game he had been agonizing over recently without finding a solution.

On the chessboard before him, more than two hundred pieces were densely arranged. On the horizontal and vertical lines, whether it was counter-attacking, poking, invading, managing isolated pieces, or killing, there were knots within knots, life seen within death; the changes in offense and defense were filled with mysteries, indescribably wonderful. The old man intuitively felt that there was a deeply hidden flaw in the game, like a flash of inspiration, fleeting. He could not help but focus his attention on it. He did not know how much time had passed, but the complex changes in the chess game became increasingly chaotic. The black and white pieces were entangled and scattered, completely without rules, making one feel an indescribable irritability in one's heart after long, fruitless thinking.

As soon as this thought arose, he looked up to see the solemn palaces, and one after another, the vermilion palace gates opened silently and slowly.

In the deep and silent main hall, the huge nine-dragon-entwined golden glazed lamps shone brightly, illuminating a scene of grace and beauty that pierced the eyes. Behind the pearl curtains and phoenix drapes, whose figure was bewitching and graceful? On the golden palace's dragon throne, who was shouting in shock and anger? Before the jade steps and jade walls, whose blade, whose sword, and whose blood flowed into a river...

The unstoppable blood color spread slowly across the auspicious cloud patterns before the steps, seeping into the lines of the grid. The huge chessboard began to rotate, the black and white colors mixing with the glaring fresh red to form a rapid vortex, finally turning into a hollow gray, sinking deep down.

It was firelight, suddenly shooting into the sky! The fierce tongues of fire covered the sky and blocked the sun; the sea of fire was boundless, and the thick smoke and heat waves rolled toward his face!

The old man's gaze sharpened, and he suddenly raised his head and let out a long whistle. Following that whistle of grief and indignation, he struck down with his palm. The chessboard before him shattered in response; with a loud bang, broken stones splashed everywhere. At the same time, countless cold and sharp blades attacked like shadows.

Killing intent rushed toward him. A fierce light flared in the old man's eyes. Before the whistle had ceased, he pierced into the midst of the black-clad men. Hands rose, swords flew, blood splashed, enemies were wounded. In the blink of an eye, more than half of the dozen black-clad men flew backward, several long swords clattered to the ground, and their right hands holding the swords were almost all crippled at the same time, unable to fight again.

Having suffered a setback upon the first exchange, the black-clad men did not break their formation. Although those who were injured felt heart-piercing pain, not one of them cried out. They quickly flipped and retreated, and their companions behind them filled the vacancies. The sword momentum was continuous, trapping the old man in the center. Unlike the black-clad warriors Qielan encountered in the formation, this group moved swiftly and erratically; everyone's footwork was strange, and their sword moves were feminine, ruthless, severe, and cold. They left no room for retreat, and with every move, they had the determination to perish together with their opponent.

This scene was all too familiar to the old man—the Shadow Slaves of the Imperial Palace, the most terrifying killers in the Royal City, the most loyal guardians of the Imperial Palace. No matter who wanted to break into the Di Du, there was only one path and one way: to step over their corpses.

With a cold snort, the old man flashed into the enemy formation, backhanded one person away, and as he turned, his sleeves swept out. The people before him felt as if they had hit a hard wall; their bodies shook violently, and they stumbled backward.

The battle circle suddenly expanded, and the old man shouted sharply: "Shang Rong, if you do not retreat now, do not blame me for being ruthless!"

The leader of the black-clad men was startled upon hearing this, his sword momentum slowing down. He suddenly met the eyes of the newcomer, and his face changed drastically. "You... you are..."

A gaze like lightning flashed through his heart. Shang Rong was stunned for a moment, then suddenly sheathed his sword and knelt on one knee. "This old servant had eyes but failed to recognize you; I deserve death!" The other Shadow Slaves, who followed his lead, immediately retreated one after another. In an instant, there was not a sound, and they all knelt on the ground.

The old man lowered his eyes and looked coldly at Shang Rong. "Death? I assume you don't have the guts to act on your own. Call your master here!"

Shang Rong said respectfully: "The Master is in the palace; please allow this old servant to go and report."

"Hmph!" The old man's expression was arrogant, as if he did not put the Eastern Emperor in his eyes at all. He left behind the words, "Tell him to come outside the formation to see me," and without looking back, he flicked his sleeves and left. Shang Rong raised his head, his eyes filled with astonishment, sadness, doubt, and worry—a hundred flavors mixed together, extremely complex. After being stunned for a moment, he hurriedly sheathed his sword and rushed toward the Changming Palace.

After the thousand troops entered the city, there was no news. Outside the Royal City, Gu Qiutong and the others were waiting anxiously. Suddenly, a rumbling sound came to their ears, and the ground beneath their feet trembled slightly. The thirty-six floating bridges on the four sides of the moat suddenly moved slowly, splitting into two from the middle and gradually sinking into the stone walls on both sides. The vast Di Du had severed its only path connected to the outside world, instantly becoming an isolated city.

The Jiuyi army faced a strong city in front and a deep river behind, with all paths blocked on four sides. It was like a tiger entering a cage, unable to advance or retreat. Everyone could not help but feel a chill in their hearts.

"General, I fear things have changed. Should we launch an attack on the city?"

Two deputy generals could not help but ask for orders. Before Gu Qiutong could answer, he suddenly heard an old voice say coldly: "Overestimating your capabilities—do you want to go and die?"

The gray-robed old man from before was standing in front of the formation, hands behind his back, looking askance at the crowd. Gu Qiutong recognized that this was Princess Qielan's Uncle, Zhong Yanzi. His heart filled with joy, and he stepped forward quickly, calling out: "Senior! The Princess and the others have been in the city for an hour, and there has been no news since. I hope Senior can provide some guidance!"

Zhong Yanzi did not answer, only let out a slight cold snort and looked toward the city gate.

The dark clouds that had originally covered the sky faintly dispersed, but the world was still shrouded in a vast mist. At the same time the floating bridges broke, the eight giant dragon-coiled stones around the Royal City slid down slowly, and the four city gates were all sealed. Only the Yong Gate in the center remained open, and an imperial road paved with green jade and mysterious stones, wide and solemn, extended deep into the distant Imperial Palace.

The mechanisms in the city stopped running, and the entire Di Du was unusually quiet. After a moment, in the vast mist, a slender figure gradually became clear.

Seeing someone appear, the Jiuyi archers lined up in formation, ready, and rows of cold, sharp iron crossbows were aimed at the center of the Royal City. But where the ten thousand arrows pointed, a set of sky-blue silk robes fluttered like clouds, flying lightly with the person's calm and unhurried steps, unstained by a speck of dust. Beneath the thin mist, that person's face seemed too pale, and his figure seemed too thin, but when he appeared, the killing intent brought by the weapons retreated, as if it could not suppress the nobility and coldness born within him.

The city hidden in the mist and the towering mountain mausoleum were a heavy background. He finally stopped before them and cast a faint glance toward the thousands of troops. Just one look, yet it made everyone watching him feel a sense of awe. Everyone felt that he was looking at them; the clear light in the depths of his eyes, which pierced through the lungs and bowels, invisibly pressured the heart and silently intimidated the spirit.

A brilliant light appeared in Zhong Yanzi's eyes, and almost at the same time, that person also cast his gaze upon him. Deep within the floating clouds, he seemed to smile gently and said aloud: "May I ask if the person before the formation is Uncle Zicheng?"

Zhong Yanzi was expressionless and spoke coldly: "Luo Wang Zicheng turned to ashes in that great fire in the Royal City more than a decade ago, dying without a burial place. How could he still be alive today?"

Upon hearing this, that person sighed softly: "Although Luo Wang is dead, his uncle is still here. Your nephew, Zi Hao, greets his uncle." After saying this, he bowed slightly and performed a salute with his hands cupped.

Zhong Yanzi did not avoid or refuse his salute. After looking at him for a long time, he slowly nodded. "Hmm, you are Zi Hao, Lady Yu's son."

Zi Hao smiled: "It has been more than a decade; I hope Uncle has been well."

Zhong Yanzi sneered: "A traitor and rebel—what well or unwell? How dare you trouble the King to inquire?"

Zi Hao was neither angry nor annoyed, his tone still gentle. "That change happened in a rush back then. Even though I knew you were framed, I could not make my father change his mind. I could only find a way to create some chaos in the palace. Fortunately, you are safe; it can be considered that the heavens have eyes."

Zhong Yanzi's heart shook, and he suddenly remembered the past, frowning: "That fire in the Liyang Gong—was it caused by you?"

"I could not leave the Central Palace at that time; I had no choice but to use this inferior strategy." Zi Hao smiled. "Zi Rao set that fire with her own hands."

Zhong Yanzi narrowed his eyes slightly. The ninth year of the Xiang Emperor, Liyang Gong... the rushing years, how many sealed-away events seemed as if they were from a past life...

Luo Wang Zicheng was the younger brother of the Xiang Emperor, born of the same mother, from the knees of the You Emperor's Queen. The You Queen died early, and Luo Wang had followed the Xiang Emperor since childhood. The two brothers were deeply affectionate and very close. Later, when the Xiang Emperor ascended the throne, he bestowed a nine-hundred-li fief and twelve cities, enfeoffing his younger brother at Luo. However, he could not bear for his young brother to travel far, so he let him enjoy the salary of the fief while remaining in the Di Du, in charge of the inner and outer imperial guards.

The Xiang Emperor was a man of leisure and a romantic nature, not very attentive to state affairs. Luo Wang, however, was outstanding in talent and appearance, proficient in both literature and martial arts, and his mind and strategy were extraordinary, so he was highly valued by the Xiang Emperor. Later on, the Xiang Emperor ordered him to supervise the state as the King's brother, and all major military and political affairs were left to him to decide. His trust was such that no one could compare.

Luo Wang's power was heavy, and the Phoenix Clan, led by the Queen Feng Wan, had always been dissatisfied. Luo Wang relied on his talent and was arrogant, never thinking much of the Phoenix Clan. As time passed, the two factions—the Phoenix Clan in the palace and Luo Wang's faction—gradually developed rifts, and the struggle intensified.

In the first month of the ninth year of the Xiang Emperor, it happened to be Luo Wang's birthday. The Xiang Emperor held a banquet in the palace to celebrate for his brother. The two brothers drank a few too many cups, so he kept Luo Wang to stay in the palace. Late that night, the Phoenix Queen suddenly sought an audience with the Xiang Emperor, disheveled and crying, accusing Luo Wang of breaking into the Chonghua Palace with ulterior motives. The Xiang Emperor was greatly shocked upon hearing this. Although he did not fully believe what the Phoenix Queen said, he still ordered Luo Wang to be temporarily detained and ordered someone to pass an imperial decree to investigate.

The Phoenix Queen's action was intended to frame Luo Wang and set a trap to remove her political rival. Luo Wang had always been proud and arrogant, never putting the Phoenix Clan in his eyes, and he actually resisted the decree, leading his personal guards and imperial guards to force his way to the Chonghua Palace to confront the Phoenix Queen before the Emperor. Unexpectedly, the Phoenix Queen was prepared. She worked from the inside and outside with the Phoenix Clan's confidants, deceived the Xiang Emperor, and took advantage of the night to forge a decree to mobilize fifty thousand Di Du guards to surround the Royal City, launching a fierce attack on the imperial guards under the name of protecting the Emperor.

When the two sides met, the Di Du guards were ordered to kill without mercy. The imperial guards were outnumbered, and in the bloody battle, they fought to the death to protect Luo Wang as he retreated to the Liyang Gong, where they were finally surrounded and slaughtered. A fire inexplicably ignited in the Liyang Gong, and the fire was fierce, turning the entire palace into ruins. Luo Wang was buried in the sea of fire, and his bones were never found.

The ninth year of the Xiang Emperor was a blank year in the history of the Yong Dynasty. The historian's pen was like a knife, unable to tell of the conspiracy and slaughter beneath the light and shadow of fire and blood, unable to carve out the betrayal and death within the honor, glory, and affection.

At the beginning of that year, Luo Wang plotted a rebellion, failed, and destroyed the palace by setting himself on fire. Upon hearing the news, the Xiang Emperor was shocked, angry, and grief-stricken, falling ill and unable to rise.

In the third month, the Phoenix Clan joined forces with Sima Le Rang, Situ Mengshuo, and the attendant Scribe Yuexi to launch a palace coup, imprisoning the Xiang Emperor in the Zhaoling Palace of the Royal City. The Phoenix Queen ruled from behind the curtain, suppressing court officials with an iron fist, eliminating dissidents, and controlling the world with one hand.

(End of chapter)