Chapter 429: Doesn

A torrential rain fell for three days straight, pooling entirely in the western quarter of Yujing City, where the people took refuge on rooftops, screaming for help, their voices hoarse with despair, while the imperial court remained motionless, ignoring it all.

All of this was because Yumen’s Yuwen Mu had been relentlessly storming city after city, now threatening to encircle Yujing City itself.

“Thirty floods in Daqian, Yujing’s waters meet the sky, houses collapse, livestock die, wives and children torn apart—so pitiful. Black beans strung on thread are sold, bark and leaves fetch coin…”

From deep within the imperial palace of the Daqian Dynasty, a faint, distant chant echoed.

The palace was lit everywhere with lanterns, bright as noon; the eunuchs were all martial cultivators, their blood qi surging—but even within this heavily guarded imperial citadel, as the reigning emperor sat in deep meditation, silently guiding his nascent soul within the Taiji Tower, his eyes suddenly snapped open—and saw a young man seated before him.

“Who are you?”

The emperor, long accustomed to supreme authority, spoke with a cold tone that carried inherent majesty.

“You are already the emperor now, holding high rank and great power—you should not cultivate the Dao.”

The young man said calmly: “You want to be emperor, and you want to be a god. But you can’t hoard all the good fortune in this world for yourself.”

At these words, the emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly—he now knew who stood before him.

“Meng Shenji!”

The emperor said coldly.

Meng Shenji of the Taishang Dao possessed the ability to oversee the realm; should any emperor dare to cultivate, Meng Shenji would mercilessly eliminate him.

“Correct. It’s me.”

The young man admitted without hesitation.

In this world, no one could pin down Meng Shenji’s true appearance, for he had undergone multiple corpse liberation transformations, his face ever-changing—but the icy demeanor in his voice, and his sheer power to enter the imperial palace alone, left no doubt in the emperor’s mind: this man was Meng Shenji.

“Protect the Emperor!”

The emperor roared, simultaneously activating his nascent soul—behind him, faint light shimmered, his body glowing like jade—this was the method of the Zao Hua Daoist.

“In ancient times, the Zao Hua Daoist was a Yangshen, yet his greatest strength lay in physical cultivation.”

The young man gazed at the emperor, his tone tinged with regret: “You’ve barely glimpsed the threshold, yet you’ve taken the wrong path.” As he spoke, a fire dragon coalesced before him, its body glowing gold and crimson, radiating the primal, savage aura of antiquity. The moment it appeared, flames erupted throughout the palace, crackling and searing the emperor’s nascent soul.

“Nine Fire Dragon!”

“Nine Fire Dragon!”

Panic erupted throughout the imperial citadel.

One of the Taishang Dao’s most feared techniques, the Nine Fire Dragon, was said to have consumed countless souls and burned to death countless masters. Now, as the eunuchs, hidden experts, and the emperor himself faced the dragon, each cried out in terror, watching as the dragon coiled through the sky, burning away the clouds above, roaring with absolute heat, absolute dominance, surging toward the palace.

“Zao Hua Nascent Soul!”

The emperor gathered his nascent soul, unleashing the power of a Ghost Immortal—each thought glowed crystalline, flashing with lightning, coalescing into a miniature world. As the fire dragon surged, he attempted to counter it, hoping to use his own strength to stall it, even slightly.

Amidst the blurred flames, the figure reached out and slashed.

“Boom!”

The emperor didn’t know how it happened—his miniature world collapsed. The fire dragon advanced and swallowed every one of his thoughts whole. In the endless blaze, the emperor pointed a trembling finger at the green figure and screamed: “You’re not…”

“Shhh!” The emperor’s head severed from his body. In the flames, his head flew out of the palace, while his corpse fell within.

The palace concubines, the guarding eunuchs, the passing maids—all screamed and wept.

Outside the palace, the people saw clear skies once more, cheering wildly. They took the head falling from the heavens to be the corpse of a dead dragon king—after all, they had just seen a dragon circling in the palace. Now that the sky had cleared, they believed the evil dragon had been slain. They kicked the emperor’s head around, venting their fury.

“Meng Shenji!”

The Grand Ancestor had just died; now another emperor, the Tai Zong, was dead. The imperial clan gathered in haste. Upon hearing it was Meng Shenji who had assassinated him, many of the Yang family’s descendants vowed to train harder and avenge this bloodshed.

Yang Pan stood among them, his hands clenched tightly, knuckles cracking.

“Meng Shenji has advanced greatly in cultivation over these years.”

The new emperor, Yang Yunji, spoke coldly: “But Daqian will not die with one emperor—we will have another. Our work will not be hindered in the slightest.”

After calming the imperial clan, Yang Yunji led Yang Pan and Hong Xuanji into a secret chamber, where another Xian, Gong Yang Yu, awaited.

“Meng Shenji acted too swiftly—we had no chance to deploy Daqian’s hidden forces.”

Yang Yunji imparted earnest counsel to his son: “My son, your father will drive back Yuwen Mu for Daqian—but this will inevitably reveal my own cultivation. Meng Shenji will come for me. And that is your opportunity!”

Daqian would never swallow such an assassination in silence.

A net to ensnare Meng Shenji had already been laid.

Yang Pan nodded solemnly: “Meng Shenji is a Zao Wu Master—we cannot defeat his nascent soul. But we will find his physical body—and destroy it.”

If they destroyed Meng Shenji’s body, he would be forced into corpse liberation and reincarnation, granting Daqian twenty, even thirty years of respite.

Yang Yunji nodded, deeply approving of his son.

Yujing City had already been shrouded in uncertainty; now, with the emperor dead, chaos erupted. Yumen’s Grand Tutor Yuwen Mu accelerated his march straight toward Yujing. Forces from every province of Daqian stirred restlessly, each seeking to quell this tangled court situation and secure a favorable future for their own sons.

Yang Pan watched his father, deeply moved.

He would not let the efforts of three generations of the Daqian imperial house be in vain!

“How did the emperor die?”

Meng Bingyun had no idea what had happened. She saw the fire dragon, heard the commotion, and only now realized the emperor had been assassinated by Meng Shenji.

Even as the Taishang Dao’s Holy Maiden, she was stunned. The emperor had died too quickly—he was a Ghost Immortal who had endured the Fourth Thunder Tribulation! How could he offer no resistance at all?

“Meng Jiaozhu received word that remnants of the Zao Hua Dao lurked in Yujing City. He came under cover of night and beheaded the reigning emperor—once again proving the true worth of the Number One Under Heaven.”

Gu Qing clapped his hands in astonishment.

“No.”

Meng Bingyun denied it outright: “Meng Shenji hasn’t moved yet.”

And that wasn’t the Nine Fire Dragon.

“Oh come on, doesn’t this prove how ruthless Meng Jiaozhu’s methods are!”

Gu Qing said: “Meng Jiaozhu didn’t even break a sweat—the Zao Hua Dao is already dead.”

(End of Chapter)