Chapter 2711: Rule 34 of Love and Hate for the Maniac City Lord

Inside the National Teacher Hall, incense curled lazily, the atmosphere heavy.

The National Teacher sat upright in the purple sandalwood grand master's chair at the head, his face gloomy, his gaze like a torch fixed on the leisurely Jin Chen below.

On the purple sandalwood table before her lay several volumes exuding an ancient aura, secret manuals and magical implements.

"Jin Chen," the National Teacher frowned, trying to overwhelm with authority, "I know your cultivation is extraordinary, a rare talent."

"But you must understand, the Crimson Yin Princess's background is mysterious, certainly not a good match; she fell into a five‑year coma and then suddenly woke—there must be something fishy. If you insist on getting involved with her, not to mention Steady Rise, you'll likely bring disaster upon yourself, suffering endless calamity."

She paused, tapping her fingertip on the gold ingot on the table, her tone softening: "If you see the times, abandon darkness and join the light, help me accomplish my great undertaking—these are merely trifling gifts."

"Once your endeavor succeeds, wealth, honor, and inexhaustible cultivation resources will be yours! Why ruin a bright future over some obscure… woman?"

Jin Chen lazily lifted his eyelids, his gaze sweeping over the paltry gifts, his tone light: "Indeed, these are meager gifts, National Teacher—are you a pauper?"

"With just this, you try to bribe me?" he clicked his tongue lightly, thoroughly disdainful of the shabbiness.

National Teacher: "……"

Her well‑kept face flushed red, she nearly couldn't catch her breath—after years of heading the National Teacher Pavilion, when had she ever been so humiliated?

The National Teacher forcibly suppressed his surging anger, putting on a mournful, compassionate visage, trying to overwhelm with righteousness.

"Jin Chen! Don't be obstinate! Everything I do is for the sake of all under heaven; the Ghost City's yin energy runs rampant, coexisting with the capital. Only by utterly destroying the Ghost City and exterminating the Fierce Ghost City Lord can peace be restored. As a cultivator, how can you disregard the greater good and ally with fiends?"

Jin Chen's clear, ringing laugh: "For the sake of all under heaven? You're truly high‑minded and principled, but the Ghost City and the mortal realm are clearly separated; merely strengthening the barrier seal would keep things peaceful. The Ghost City's lord, Yin Chaosheng, though a fierce ghost, is not devoid of reason—he does not indiscriminately slaughter the innocent."

"Why must the National Teacher insist on carrying out that extermination, merely adding to the karmic slaughter and disturbing the yin‑yang balance?"

"Preposterous!" the National Teacher slammed the table, rose abruptly, his face contorted with restrained fury: "Reason with fiends? Jin Chen! You're simply bewitched by ghosts! Those not of our kind must harbor different hearts! Would you rather trust a wicked ghost's feigned kindness than stand on the righteous path of humanity?!"

Just as the atmosphere grew tense as drawn swords, sudden hurried footsteps sounded from outside the hall.

"National Teacher! Sir National Teacher! Something's wrong!"

A disciple of the National Teacher Pavilion tumbled and scrambled into the hall, thudding to his knees: "His Majesty has suddenly taken a turn for the worse! He vomits blood nonstop, remains unconscious! The head of the Imperial Medical Institute and several senior physicians have examined him together, yet find no cause! His breath is as faint as a silken thread! Please hurry to the Hall of Nurturing the Heart!"

"What!"

The National Teacher's face changed instantly, not even having time to argue further with Jin Chen, he flicked his sleeves: "Prepare the carriage! Quick!"

Jin Chen watched coldly, taking in the National Teacher's tension and panic that far exceeded what a subject should show.

He recalled what he had seen before: the National Teacher's attitude toward the elderly emperor had been utterly lacking in respect, so why was his reaction now so intense?

Could it be that, for the National Teacher, this old emperor must not die?

In the turn of his thoughts, Jin Chen's eyes flickered slightly, and he followed.

The Emperor's sleeping chamber.

Stepping into the Hall of Nurturing the Heart, a nauseatingly strong stench assailed the nostrils; the precious dragon saliva incense struggled in vain to mask the corpse‑like rot, only making the scene appear lavish yet decayed.

In the outer hall, a crowd of imperial physicians and palace attendants knelt in a black mass, faces ashen, trembling like sifted chaff, fearing that if the one on the dragon throne drew his last breath, they would be buried alongside him.

The inner hall was even more oppressive, almost suffocating; Jin Chen walked around the screen and saw upon the dragon bed the present emperor, emaciated, his complexion bluish‑gray, dark‑red blood still staining the corners of his mouth, exhaling more than inhaling—clearly at death's door.

Besides the National Teacher who had just entered, a familiar scarlet figure stood beside the dragon bed.

Yin Chaosheng's face was veiled with a light gauze, his palace attire lavish and intricate, utterly out of place amid this dying, decaying scene.

Hearing the footsteps, he slightly turned his head, his gorgeous eyes sweeping coldly over the hastily arriving National Teacher, his gaze icy and indifferent.

Upon seeing him, the National Teacher's old and new grudges surged; he disregarded etiquette and shouted sharply: "Princess Your Highness!"

"Your Majesty's health is poor—why are you here? His Majesty already issued an edict refusing to see you again! What… did you just say to His Majesty? Why does his condition worsen the moment you arrive?"

Yin Chaosheng heard this and let out an extremely faint sneer, his voice low and muffled through the veil, indifferent: "National Teacher, why make such a fuss?"

"It's merely because the emperor is aged and frail, his oil lamp long exhausted—it's simply his time to pass away."

"You!" the National Teacher trembled with rage, yet knowing this was no time to quarrel, he strode forward, suppressing the nauseating stench of decay, and placed his hand on the old emperor's withered wrist, attempting to channel Spiritual Power to probe.

Jin Chen paused in the screen's shadow, exhaling a thread of Spiritual Power, sensing that … person upon the dragon bed.

Barely qualifies as a person, I suppose.

This old emperor's vitality is gone, his five viscera and six bowels withered; he clings to a single breath only by force of Spiritual Power.

The National Teacher would rather expend such a cost to keep this empty shell, not wishing to enthrone a new ruler—truly strange.

Jin Chen swept past the anxious National Teacher and the lifeless dragon bed, his gaze falling upon that scarlet figure amid the hall's frightened, numb attendants.

Yin Chaosheng stood beside the dragon bed, behind him the golden dragon bed that symbolizes supreme mortal authority yet is deathly and decayed.

Around him lay courtiers prostrate on the floor, numb yet inwardly wishing for the emperor's swift demise.

Before him…

Before him, in this hall of deathly stillness and falsehood, was the sole presence that could enter his sight.

Yin Chaosheng and Jin Chen locked eyes for a moment; he raised his hand and, piece by piece, shed those splendid, heavy shackles.

The gem‑studded gold hairpin was tossed carelessly to the ground, the elaborate waist sash undone and slipped off, the phoenix‑embroidered shawl torn away…

"Princess! No!" a bold palace maid cried out in a trembling voice, but when her gaze met the eyes looking over the fallen hair, she gasped, fell silent, bowed her head low, and dared not speak another word.

Thus, Yin Chaosheng, before the eyes of all, shed the princess's splendid garb; his ink‑black hair cascaded like a waterfall, partly disheveled, partially veiling his strikingly beautiful features.

He wore only a scarlet inner robe, barefoot, stepping on the icy gold bricks, walking step by step toward Jin Chen beside the screen.

Yin Chaosheng stood before Jin Chen, lifted his face, and gently brushed his warm cheek.

In his bewitching pupils, all icy mockery faded, leaving only reliance and grievance.

"Take me with you." he said.

Jin Chen reached out, encircling his waist and knees, and easily lifted him into a horizontal hold.

Yin Chaosheng leaned into his embrace, the veil on his face slipping away unnoticed in the motion, revealing his stunning countenance; his pallid arms slipped from his sleeves, clutching Jin Chen's neck, pressing his cheek against the warm side of Jin Chen's neck, dispelling the surrounding yin‑chilled decay.

Jin Chen held him, ignoring the horrified gazes of the hall's attendants, turned and strode out of the sleeping chamber with great strides.

Outside, the four who had rushed over upon hearing the news—Chu Jiu Shan and his companions—happened to witness this scene.

And when they beheld the princess's true appearance, the four were struck as if by lightning.

Yesterday's shock hasn't even faded yet! Today's installment arrives again!

There are so many secrets in the palace!

And farther away, Fu Lingjing, who had originally wanted to see Jin Chen's joke, was as if struck heavily, staggering back two steps, sitting down on the icy steps, murmuring to himself in a daze.

「How could it be him, the Red Yin Princess? How could it be…… the Ghost City Lord, Yin Chaosheng! 」