Chapter 629: The Young Taoist's True Identity

Above the forest, birds swooped, a few clear cries cut the morning mist, startling the dewdrops on the branches to tumble down.

Gao Changjing's face, once roiled with stormy turmoil, had long settled, leaving only a bottomless calm.

Then, he slowly withdrew the clenched fist from his sleeve; the loosening joints gave a faint crack. His gaze fell on the young Taoist's smiling face, his lips moving, murmuring word by word, "Old friend?"

The trailing sound faded in the wind; he suddenly took two steps forward, his dark robe brushing the wild grass at his feet, raising a faint rustle.

He surveyed the Taoist from head to toe, his eyebrows slightly lifted, a half‑smile curving his mouth: "This Gongzi doesn't remember having a Taoist old friend like you?"

"That shows His Highness has a poor memory, forgetful!" the young Taoist retorted without thinking, his tone unmistakably sarcastic.

The trailing syllable stretched long like a feather, gently tickling the tip of one's heart.

"You're courting death!"

Xu Langwen, who had been simmering with anger, heard this and instantly flared with rage.

His eyes widened, the veins at his temples pulsed, and he swiftly unwrapped the bundle he carried.

With a sharp "shua" sound, a cold‑glinting long sword sprang from its scabbard, its blade pointing at the two Taoists, murderous aura blazing.

The others, seeing this, reacted equally fast, tearing open their bundles.

In an instant, a series of "shua shua shua" sheath‑drawing sounds rang out.

Seven or eight swords flashed coldly, encircling the two Taoists, the fierce killing intent nearly freezing the forest's morning mist.

But the young Taoist seemed oblivious, as if the flashing blades were nothing, still standing calmly in place, a smile at his lips.

Not a trace of fear could be seen.

He even leisurely twirled the whisk he held; the white silk ribbon on it fluttered in the wind, starkly out of place amid the surrounding grimness.

"Hey, don't rush!"

Gao Changjing suddenly raised his hand, steady, pressing onto Xu Langwen's sword‑holding wrist.

His voice was low, yet carried an undeniable force.

Xu Langwen's wrist stalled; he turned his head toward Gao Changjing, eyes full of resentment: "Gongzi!"

"First put down the Weapons!" Gao Changjing repeated, his tone calm.

Xu Langwen gritted his teeth; the anger on his face remained, yet he dared not defy, muttering, "Yes!"

As the words fell, he flipped his wrist, and with a "clang" the long sword returned to its scabbard.

The others, seeing this, also sheathed their swords, yet kept a wolf‑like watch on the two Taoists, ready to pounce at Gao Changjing's command.

Only then did Gao Changjing redirect his gaze to the young Taoist, looking at the unafraid face, his eyes flashing, his tone probing and laden with meaning: "This Gongzi is eager to know, where exactly does your old friend hail from?"

The young Taoist heard this, raised an eyebrow, his eyes' mockery deepening.

He elongated his tone, retorting, "So, does His Highness, the supremely clever, need a hint?"

The phrase "supremely clever" was enunciated heavily, the sarcastic tail almost spilling over, as if deliberately exposing Gao Changjing's shortcoming.

Gao Changjing seemed not to hear the sting, nodded nonchalantly, his smile deepening: "Of course!"

"That's right." The young Taoist smiled contentedly, lifted his wrist lightly, the whisk tracing a curve in the air, stirring a breeze.

He looked at Gao Changjing, spoke slowly, his tone playful: "I still admire His Highness, using the death of Shi Qingwen, the clerk, to announce your arrival!"

The words made Gao Changjing's smile tighten slightly.

The young Taoist, giving no chance to breathe, continued, "Again you borrowed a servant of the Cao Mansion to fabricate a murder case of a tomb‑raider left as a corpse!"

"Then you also slew three officials of Jing Zhao Fu, creating the so‑called curse narrative!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the suddenly tense faces of Gao Changjing and Cui Yizong, sneering: "In truth, it was merely to divert Jing Zhao Fu's attention, a deafening ruse, circulating the counterfeit coins you forged in Chang'an to buy time…"

"…to disrupt Chang'an's livelihood and severely weaken Great Zhou's national strength!"

Gao Changjing's fingertips curled slightly, his hand at his side clenched again, his eyes as deep as a pool.

Cui Yizong stood beside him, brows furrowed, face solemn, staring at the young Taoist as if to devour him alive.

The young Taoist took in both expressions, his tone suddenly rising, laughing aloud, his playful tone deeper: "Who could have thought, mortal plans are no match for heaven's!"

"His Highness, your meticulously plotted strategies were preempted by a step!"

"In the end you end up stealing the chicken but losing the rice, losing the lady and the troops!"

He stepped forward, drew close to Gao Changjing, lowered his voice, speaking word by word: "Chang'an's livelihood remains untouched, whereas Qi State's has been devastated, turned upside down, and the Gao clan imperial house's covert network in Chang'an, cultivated for over a decade, was nearly wiped out…"

"His Highness, does the poor Taoist speak correctly?"

"Hahaha!" Gao Changjing suddenly threw his head back in a hearty laugh, the laughter bright yet carrying a few incomprehensible complexities.

He laughed for a long while, then slowly quieted, his gaze like a torch, staring straight at the young Taoist, the mist in his eyes fully clearing, replaced by clear understanding.

Then, slowly raising his hand, pointing at the young Taoist, his tone full of profound sentiment: "So it was you!"

"It was you!"

The wind swept through the forest, swirling countless fallen leaves between the two.

Cui Yizong, standing aside, fixed his gaze on the young Taoist's smiling face, his mind booming, suddenly dawning insight.

Memories surged like tides, a vague image of a young, heroic face floated before his eyes…

Sharp sword‑like eyebrows, star‑bright eyes, a straight nose bridge, a jade‑like headdress, a dragon‑like stride, and a purple official robe draped over him.

"So it was him!" Cui Yizong let out a heavy sigh, feeling a cold sweat break out on his back.

The young Taoist took in Gao Changjing and Cui Yizong's expressions, his wrist casually flicked, the whisk swung lightly, the white silk ribbon tracing a graceful arc in the air.

He, calm and composed, stepped half a pace forward, smile at the corners of his brows and eyes, laughing loudly: "It seems, His Highness, you have already guessed the poor Taoist's identity?"

"You have sparred with this Gongzi for so long, constantly clashing, never letting up, how could you not guess?"

Gao Changjing slowly shook his head, the smile on his face fully withdrawn, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness and gravity.

He stared at the Taoist, enunciating each title like a menu, listing a string of offices, his voice tinged with an indescribable complexity: "Senior Pillar of State, Duke of Wei, Prefect of Jing Zhao, Left Martial Marquis Grand General, Left Martial Guard Grand General, Sacrificial Wine of the Imperial Academy, Grand Minister of the Three Departments, and praised by the foolish of Chang'an as the contemporary upright, Lord Chen Yan, correct!"

"Hahaha!"

The young Taoist, hearing this, did not shy away, burst into hearty laughter, the bright laughter shaking the forest's falling leaves.

He laughed for a while, then slowly lowered his voice, but did not answer directly, merely squinting his eyes and, with great interest, sizing up Gao Changjing.

Gao Changjing's gaze swept over the young Taoist, landed on the silent elder Taoist beside him, his mouth curling slightly into a confident smile, and in a sure tone he asked, "The fake Taoist over there is that martial‑prowess, loyal slave of yours, Zhu Yi, right?"

The young Taoist clapped his hands, a look of approval on his face, and loudly exclaimed, "Truly worthy of His Highness Gao!"

"Your thoughts are meticulous, your insight pierces the finest hairs; I admire you!"

"Chen Zhuguo, Lord Chen Yan!" Gao Changjing suddenly raised his voice, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes, a cold sneer following, his tone thick with sarcasm, "You truly have great courage and daring!"

"You dare to risk your life, come alone into this Xizhou dense forest; aren't you afraid that, at Gongzi's command, you two will be buried here?"

The young Taoist, hearing this, shrugged nonchalantly, a teasing smile at the corner of his mouth, and lightly replied, "So‑so!"

"I merely possess a bit of boldness!"

He paused, his gaze burning as he stared at Gao Changjing, his tone playful and mocking, "I can't compare to His Highness Gao, who can lurk in the enemy capital for months, stirring the winds and clouds…"

Gao Changjing heard this and his complexion darkened slightly.

He glanced sideways at the more than fifty followers behind him; they were all elite Suicide Warriors of Great Qi, each as good as ten, fierce and unafraid of death.

Then, pointing at these murderous subordinates and also at the two composed Taoists before him, curiosity filling his eyes, he asked in a deep voice, "Chen Zhuguo, do you look down on us so much, or do you place great trust in that Zhu family slave, Zhu Yi?"

"How dare the two of you come here so swaggeringly to block us?"

The young Taoist's smile remained, meeting Gao Changjing's sharp gaze; his expression was calm, and in a detached tone he replied, "Half and half, perhaps…"

Gao Changjing stared intently at the young Taoist in a Daoist robe before him, his chest a swirl of anger and suspicion, then lunged forward a step, his dark robe rustling, and bellowed, "Strip off the mask on your face!"

"And let us get a glimpse of Chen Yan and Chen Zhuguo's splendor!"

The wind in the dense forest seemed to freeze, and the surrounding shadows fell silent.

All waiting to see the outcome of this standoff.

The young Taoist, hearing this, slowly nodded, his smile unchanged, "Very well, as you wish!"

As the words faded, he raised his hand toward his cheek, a fingertip flicking lightly, and peeled off the thin human‑skin mask.

Beneath the mask was an exceptionally handsome face, sword‑like eyebrows slanting into his temples, a pair of peach‑blossom eyes bearing a casual smile.

His nose was high and straight, lips well defined, but his brow lacked a few lines; the dignified aura of Chen Yan's portrait was now tinged with the ferocity and sharpness of a ruthless official.

Gao Changjing's proud confidence and composure froze the instant he recognized the face.

The portrait of Chen Yan he had studied repeatedly was, in his memory, a heroic, resolute face, its brows and eyes bearing the solemn authority of years at court…

Yet the face before him, though equally gallant, was completely unfamiliar!