Chapter 249: You sure about this divination?

The Crown Prince's manor lies in the heart of the royal city, adjacent to the royal court.

In the past, countless nobles and officials feasted here, laughter never ceasing.

Yet today, deep within the manor's study, an unusual silence prevails.

Apart from the Crown Prince of An Nan, Si Er, seated in the place of honor, only the solitary Fuzongzi stands.

The guards had long since withdrawn to the outer courtyard, layer upon layer of courts cutting off sight and sound; within the cramped study, only the two faced each other, the atmosphere frozen.

Si Er sat upright in his chair, a lingering hostility about him, anger piled up in his brow.

The shock from their first encounter had gradually faded, leaving only wariness and scrutiny.

His gaze locked onto the young man before him in a blue-gray Daoist robe, his mind rife with speculation, yet he still could not fathom the stranger's background.

After a prolonged silence, Si Er finally suppressed his surging emotions and spoke first:

"Who exactly is the person you mentioned earlier who gave my father poison?"

His tone icy, his eyes full of scrutiny, each word laced with probing and pressure.

Facing the Crown Prince's question, laden with anger, Fuzongzi remained composed, showing no trace of fear, the corner of his mouth still bearing a faint smile as if everything were under his control, a stark contrast to the enraged Crown Prince Si Er a few steps away.

He stood still, and after a moment, he softly opened his lips.

Fuzongzi's voice was soft and clear, yet each word struck like a thunderclap, exploding in the silent study:

"No one is here, Lord Crown Prince; you need not probe further......"

"That matter—was it not the poison you and the princess consort administered together?"

A simple sentence, calm and light, revealed a secret capable of overturning the An Nan court.

Si Er shuddered, frozen in place; his towering anger dissipated, replaced by uncontainable shock and horror.

This was his greatest secret in life, the deepest, most unspeakable secret hidden in his heart; from start to finish it was kept utterly secret, personally orchestrated, covertly plotted with his mother consort, known to no third party—not even his most trusted guards and aides noticed a trace.

Yet this Daoist, whom he had never met, laid it bare in a single sentence, each word precise, striking straight at the truth.

After a brief moment of stunned disbelief, his inner panic was swiftly overwhelmed by extreme fury.

Si Er slammed his hands on the table and rose, his wide sleeves sweeping over the brushes and ink, producing a crisp clack.

In an instant, his fury flared even higher, as if to mask his inner panic and dread, and he bellowed:

"Nonsense! How could I, the Crown Prince, possibly plot to kill my father? Pure fabrication!"

"You demonic Daoist, daring to fabricate rumors out of thin air, slandering me and framing the royal family! Do you believe I would not order your execution right now, cutting you to pieces?"

A torrent of fury laced with killing intent surged toward him, yet Fuzongzi remained rooted, unmoving, his smile unchanged, his expression calm to the point of indifference, utterly unsurprised by the Crown Prince's wrath and threats.

After his shout faded, Fuzongzi spoke slowly and calmly, his tone even and unruffled, as if merely chatting:

"Your Highness the Crown Prince can certainly kill me."

"But Your Highness knows in your heart that my humble Daoist divination is a hundred times more accurate than the Fuji priests of An Nan An Nan."

"Today killing me is easy, but if later you still have doubts and wish to inquire into heavenly truths, there will be no one left to enlighten you."

After a slight pause, Fuzongzi's words gained certainty, each sentence precisely striking Si Er's weak point.

"Furthermore, Your Highness, do not forget that only I possess the means to detoxify and heal the King of An Nan."

"If I were to die today in the Crown Prince's manor, unable to leave the royal city safely, how would Your Highness know I had not previously instructed my fellow disciples?"

"Should someone later bring the antidote to the royal city to detoxify the King of An Nan... then, even if you flare up as you do now, it would be of no use."

These words landed like cold water poured over his head, instantly quenching much of Si Er's murderous rage.

Si Er's stance faltered slightly; the turmoil in his chest burned ever fiercer, yet he dared not act rashly.

At this moment, feelings of helpless vexation and agitation swept over him, stirring a sudden surge of intense longing in his heart.

Usually, whenever he found himself in a dilemma or unable to decide, his exceptionally clever fifth brother, skilled at scheming and planning, would always be by his side, analyzing pros and cons, offering strategies, and resolving his predicaments.

But his fifth brother had mysteriously vanished months ago while out on an errand; scouts searched repeatedly, reports piled up, yet no trace was found.

If his fifth brother were still present, how could he be left to face this bizarre, tangled situation alone, manipulated by an unknown Daoist who grasped his weakness, leaving him helpless and unable to move?

Thinking of this, Si Er's irritation grew worse, especially upon seeing Fuzongzi's calm, composed demeanor, his inner dissatisfaction and repression intensifying.

He forcibly suppressed the rising anger again, his mind racing for a countermeasure, and in an instant he formed a plan—

"No one else can be found; my mother consort always sides with me."

"Perhaps someone on her side leaked this."

"Once he finds the spy hiding among them, this demonic Daoist won't even need to say 'kill' before it's done."

Having made up his mind, Si Er restrained his hostility, his face turning cold and stiff, his tone hard as he called outward to summon the attendants waiting outside.

The guards outside, hearing his voice, immediately pushed the door open and entered, standing at attention:

"Your Highness the Crown Prince."

Si Er gave Fuzongzi a cold glance, his tone harsh:

"Take him to the secluded guest quarters and lodge him there, 'look after' him properly—no mistakes."

The attendants, who had followed the Crown Prince for years and were perceptive, instantly grasped the hidden meaning in those words.

The guards bowed, accepted the order, made a gesturing invitation, their attitude respectful yet full of vigilance.

"Daoist priest, please follow the attendants."

Fuzongzi offered no resistance, still wearing a faint smile, turned calmly, and left the study with the guards.

The guards led him through layer after layer of courtyards, all the way to an extremely secluded compound at the farthest corner of the manor.

Remote from the main residence, with high walls, tightly sealed doors and windows, and layers of servants on watch all around, this compound is specially used by the Crown Prince's manor to detain those awaiting trial or to place foreigners under house arrest.

Upon reaching the compound's gate, the guards opened the door, then stood faithfully outside without entering, leaving only Fuzongzi to go in; they promptly closed the gate, keeping strict watch outside, completely cutting off any chance of escape.

With the door shut, all outside sight and sound were cut off, leaving him utterly alone.

The Fuzongzi who had been composed and unchanging throughout now shed his composed demeanor, drew a long breath, and the tension in his shoulders completely eased.

He patted his chest, soothing himself, and could not help muttering:

Even if the Empress hit me, I could accept that, but how dare a mere prince of a tiny country act so fiercely toward me!

Once I become a renowned National Preceptor, I'll have someone tie him up and make him sit in a chair all day listening to my shout.

This muttering, nitpicking demeanor is worlds apart from the earlier composed and dignified Daoist priest.

However, he seems to have finally dropped the pretense and become his true self.

Fu Cou Zi walked slowly to the table in the room, sat down, and took out a small, warm, smooth stone mirror from his bosom.

The stone mirror has a fine texture, a dark, subdued color, and a smooth surface; it is an item he has carried with him for years.

He took out the small blade he carried, and with dexterous fingertips he gently wiped, polished, and engraved the mirror's surface, his movements practiced and relaxed.

Moments later, the fine lines and characters he had just engraved on the stone mirror seemed to be smoothed away by an invisible force, fading bit by bit...

Eventually they vanished completely, and the stone mirror returned to its pristine, smooth state.

Next, a string of twisted, chaotic, eerie characters slowly appeared on the mirror's surface, the strokes distorted and illegible, lacking any pattern—these are the obscure markings unique to heavenly-secret divination.

Fu Cou Zi leaned in close to the mirror, his eyes focused, examining it left and right, repeatedly recognizing, deducing, and speculating on that string of twisted heavenly-secret characters, bit by bit unraveling the hidden meaning within.

The bulk of the text above remained just as before—utterly incomprehensible.

But with the experience of the past few years, half-guessing, half-grasping, I can make out a few characters.

After a long while, he slowly straightened up, his eyes showing a hint of understanding mixed with confusion, and he whispered a few words:

"Kill...... Yuan Long...... kill......?"

What does this mean?

Does it mean he should kill Yuan Long?

Or does it mean he should guide Yuan Long on whom to kill?

But who exactly is this Yuan Long?

I've never heard of him before!

Fu Cou Zi's words came out light and shallow, tinged with an inexplicable bewilderment.

His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes full of doubt; from the moment he was born, his master had led him into the Daoist Sect.

For the past twenty years he had also vaguely sensed a trace of heavenly secrets, but since he accidentally obtained this stone mirror three years ago and discovered that it occasionally displayed extremely obscure characters requiring half-guesswork, everything has been turned upside down.

His divination and the characters on the stone mirror complement each other, and they can occasionally verify each other.

Therefore, he greatly trusts the inspiration given by the stone mirror.

However...

However, the problem is that the characters on this stone mirror are distorted by some unknown force, making them utterly unlike ordinary writing—only partially understandable.

Isn't this exactly the situation now?

Unable to figure it out after much thought, Fu Cou Zi couldn't help but shake his head slightly and sigh softly, his tone tinged with helpless murmuring.

"Everyone says heavenly secrets must not be leaked, yet these heavenly secrets are far too concealed and taboo."

"It could easily just give me a clue, but instead it seems something deliberately erases all traces, leaving only a fragment, hinting at the beginning and end, making it truly difficult to guess the whole picture."

Fu Cou Zi sighed continuously, and having no choice, he raised his hand and used the engraving knife to wipe away all the drifting characters and patterns on the mirror's surface, then properly stored the stone mirror again.

After all that exertion, both body and mind were weary.

Fu Cou Zi rose, walked to the bedside, removed his clothes, lay down, and pulled the covers over his head.

That night, half-asleep and half-awake, Fu Cou Zi continued to think—

The stone mirror never gives useless inspiration.

But this Yuan Long...

Who on earth is this suddenly appearing Yuan Long?

?? Saying he might be late, but when it came to the major plot point, he still couldn't help writing a three-thousand-word big chapter—dear readers, enjoy! (*^▽^*)