Chapter 700: A Gentleman Must Not Act on Impulse: The Heavenly Net and Earthly Trap

The post-rain sky was exceptionally clear and bright.

You had just stepped down from the Qingstone steps at the southwest gate of the Xie Fu; water still dripped from the eaves, tapping a clear, resonant rhythm in the silent alley.

Turning past the tall, deep brick wall of Changning Street, you suddenly spotted a familiar figure.

The madam from Qi Mo Chunfang wore her silver hair in a high coiffure, her dignified bearing suffused with the solemnity peculiar to the imperial palace.

A lady-in-waiting to the Princess.

The old woman performed a formal court bow: “Your Excellency, Prince Guan, I wish you well.”

“Madam, what brings you here?”

Madam Yan said, “Her Highness the Princess has sent me to deliver a message to Your Excellency.”

This matter concerns several Crown Princes of Da Sui, one of whom is the young master from the Second Courtyard of the Xie Mansion.

Her voice grew more troubled: “Worse still… our covert agents have learned that the Prince of Yan and Prince Feng have secretly met with the Da Sui Crown Prince.”

The Princess’s attendant’s words did not surprise you—only that you had underestimated how determined those Crown Princes were to eliminate you.

You looked at Madam Yan and softly thanked her: “I am deeply grateful to Her Highness for her concern.”

Madam Yan continued, “Her Highness also instructed me to tell you this: A gentleman may be deceived by propriety.”

Her tone grew earnest: “Prince Guan, you possess talent to govern the world. You must know that when the river narrows and the current rushes, one must lower the sail; when the tiger roars in the mountains, one must detour. I dare to speak plainly: Your Excellency bears lofty ambitions—how could you risk your future for a nameless servant girl?”

“The Book of Rites says: ‘A son of a thousand taels does not sit beneath a perilous eave.’ This is the clear teaching of the sages.”

“In ancient times, the High Ancestor of Da Qi, while still in obscurity, practiced patience and concealment; Emperor Taizong endured the hatred of his brother’s murder, bided his time for years, and ultimately achieved greatness. Today, Your Excellency must likewise temper your blade and await the right moment.”

Here she paused, her expression grave: “Her Highness has repeatedly warned me: this journey is perilous beyond measure, potentially a matter of life and death. I beg you, weigh the costs carefully before acting.”

“Her Highness herself is currently constrained and cannot act openly.”

As Madam Yan was about to speak further, before the words left her lips, a figure in blue robes had already brushed past her.

The old woman stood frozen, hearing only the young man’s clear voice carried on the wind: “Please convey my thanks to Her Highness for her kindness. But—”

He did not stop walking: “My servant has a name and a lineage. Her life is not worthless.”

Madam Yan watched the receding figure and sighed deeply. In her mind rose the scene from the Qunfang Banquet—the brilliant youth who had composed five immortal poems in one stroke, shaking the entire Bianjing literary world—now risking his life alone for a lowly maid.

“Is this truly worth it?” she murmured.

On the Qingstone path, the boy’s figure gradually vanished into the smoke and bustle of the city alleys.

You had not walked far when, turning the corner, a chestnut-red steed came into view.

The horse was magnificent, drawing a black carriage that stood silently at the crossroads, as if it had been waiting long.

The driver was a dark-skinned peasant, yet his aura was deeper than that of several guards you had seen in the Xie Fu—he was a Cultivator of the Upper Three Realms.

A mere flicker of spiritual sense revealed the carriage interior was empty—but you instinctively knew someone was inside.

The occupant’s cultivation was profound!

In an instant, qi surged, and all nine swords within your heart-sea trembled.

This was the strongest person you had encountered since the Qunfang Banquet, since the Demon Master and the Lotus Master—whether he had reached the rank of Heavenly Grand Master, you could not tell, but he was certainly a Primordial Spirit at the Tenth Realm, Yangshen.

The carriage curtain was drawn aside, and a figure in a loose Confucian robe emerged, his back bent like a bow, his steps slow and unsteady.

His eyebrows and hair were sparse, his face crisscrossed with wrinkles; when he opened his mouth, only a few yellow teeth remained—plainly an ordinary old man of the marketplace.

Your eyes flickered slightly; after a moment’s thought, you drew your sword and bowed: “I pay my respects, Master Dongshan.”

The old man’s gaunt face broke into a faint smile, the wrinkles around his eyes softening: “Clever boy.”

His gaze swept over the long sword in your hand; beneath your calm exterior, a fierce killing intent lay hidden.

“Has the Princess told you who they are?”

You nodded. “I know.”

The old man spoke slowly, hands behind his back: “There are three Crown Princes—from Da Sui, Changsheng Tian, and the Buddhist Kingdom. Each is an Upper Three Realms cultivator; Liu Yuan, in particular, has ignited divine fire and already attained Ziwei Hengjie cultivation.”

“Not to mention their households, which over the years have gathered countless elite warriors from Bianjing.”

“Beyond them, there are two Imperial Princes of Da Qi. They will not act directly, but sending a few Upper Three Realms warriors is trivial.”

The chestnut horse snorted; the old man patted its neck: “If it were only this, it might be manageable. But this matter triggers a chain reaction… the one seated high in court is also behind the scenes.”

“This journey is perilous beyond measure—calling it a dragon’s den or tiger’s lair is no exaggeration… nine deaths, one life—no idle words.”

The old man’s gaze sharpened: “So I urge you: personal vengeance is not the way of a gentleman. To walk knowingly into certain death is not the act of a wise man.”

“And even if you succeed, Da Qi and the three kingdoms will form an alliance—you cannot bear the guilt of assassinating a Crown Prince!”

“Whether you succeed or fail, there is only one path: death.”

You listened in silence.

“Young man, know this: extreme rigidity breaks easily,” the old man continued. “If you turn back today, I pledge my entire lifetime’s reputation to guarantee your future—whether you wish to enter the Academy for further study, or leave Bianjing entirely, it is yours.”

“You have already received the sword intent of the Second Master. The vast world lies open before you.” His voice carried hope: “As the ancients said: A gentleman avenges his grievance, and ten years is not too late.”

“Xie Guan, you stand on the brink of ascension—why gamble everything on this?” The old man’s gaze burned into you. “I simply cannot believe the one who received the Second Master’s legacy is so shortsighted.”

In the narrow alley, behind the towering carriage, the young man stood in deep thought.

Xixiang Pavilion, Yanbo Lake.

It belonged to one of the Three Pure Melody Troupes of Xixiang Pavilion—the Zi Xiao Pavilion.

The lake was small but exquisitely refined, like a jade inlay amid the bustle of Bianjing, perfect for boating.

When the breeze stirred, silver ripples danced across its surface, reflecting the vermilion railings and painted eaves.

Four arched bridges, like dragons lying upon the waves, connected the lake’s central four-story pavilion to the shore.

The elegant building with upturned eaves was none other than the “Listening to Rain Pavilion,” the most famed of the six floors of Zi Xiao Pavilion.

A refined space reserved for the pavilion’s courtesans to recite poetry, paint, and receive guests.

On sunny days, the glazed tiles shimmered with purple-gold hues, mirroring beautifully in the lake.

Today, after a heavy rain, only a few small boats dotted the lake, lending it a lonely air.

The lake’s surface was now still, save for the occasional ripple stirred by a few koi.

Inside the Listening to Rain Pavilion, today was unnervingly silent.

Within the four-story pavilion, even the usual music and strings had vanished; only the bronze bells at the eaves occasionally chimed coldly in the wind.

The topmost fourth floor, facing the lake with unobstructed views, was the finest spot for sightseeing.

At this moment, a calm voice spoke.

“Crown Prince Yuan, do you think Xie Guan will come?”

The speaker was a young man in a robe with dark gold trim at the sleeves and a luxurious fur cloak draped over his shoulders.

His features were delicate, yet his eyes held a touch of arrogance.

He was Chen Mu, the Thirteenth Imperial Prince of Da Qi, whom Xie Guan had met at the Qunfang Banquet.

He followed the Prince of Yan’s lead in court and had come here representing the Prince of Yan.

Liu Yuan stood by the window, gazing at the shimmering water and the pedestrians along the shore.

He had met Xie Guan only once at the Qunfang Banquet; it was hard to fathom the boy’s thoughts.

His gaze turned inward: besides the familiar Crown Princes He Lan Zhen Shu and Du Kong,

there were two other men.

One was Xie Renfeng.

The other was an elderly man in crimson-purple brocade robes, towering far above average, his face smooth and beardless, radiating an aura of feminine softness.

He stood respectfully behind Chen Mu.

Liu Yuan turned his gaze back and asked, “Prince Feng, what do you think?”

Xie Renfeng replied coldly: “He will come.”

“When we were at Daguan Garden, he was unknown—yet he risked his life for this maid.”

“Now that so many nobles favor him, how could he not come?”

Chen Mu chuckled: “Frankly, I find it hard to believe.”

“I thought you had caught some grave leverage over Xie Guan—turns out it’s just a servant girl.”

“If it were me, what’s one servant’s death? I have hundreds of maids—I can’t even recall their faces.”

“Can anyone truly risk death for a servant?”

He Lan Zhen Shu looked uneasy: “Right now, we’re at Yanbo Lake. If Xie Guan isn’t a complete fool, he knows today is a death trap.”

“To come knowing he will die?”

Liu Yuan trusted Xie Renfeng’s words—after all, they were from the same household, blood brothers; he knew Xie Guan’s nature best.

“Second brother, don’t rush.”

“If he doesn’t come, we’ll reconsider.”

He Lan Zhen Shu sat back in his chair, fingers clicking softly: “If Xie Guan dares to come, he will not leave alive.”

The Thirteenth Prince Chen Mu frowned: “Why go to such lengths for a mere Xie Guan?”

“Myself and the Prince of Yan have summoned six Upper Realm attendants, plus six elite warriors from your sides—twelve Upper Three Realms cultivators altogether—including several who have ignited divine fire.”

“Add the three Crown Princes… and now we’ve even drawn the attention of Grand Eunuch Xiao.”

All turned to look at the purple-robed eunuch behind Chen Mu—Xiao Yu—and their eyes held traces of wariness.

He was one of Da Qi’s Three Grand Eunuchs, his cultivation unfathomable; rumors claimed he had already formed the Ninth Realm of the Martial Rosette Pill.

Today, Liu Yuan had specifically requested the Prince of Yan to summon him, to ensure absolute safety.

Liu Yuan had also considered inviting a guest of the Second Prince Chen Feng, whose cultivation rivaled that of Grand Eunuch Xiao Yu.

Yet today, no one expected that this Second Prince would decline to participate, depriving us of a major ally.

Otherwise, we would have had one more guarantee today.

Liu Yuan said gravely, “This Xie Guan is no ordinary man—he may have already ignited the Divine Flame. At the Gathering of Beauties, he slew Zhu Zhiqian, and he is on good terms with the Demon Master and Master Lotus Pond.”

At these words, the eunuch in charge of ceremonies, who had remained impassive and unruffled until now, lifted his head to look over.

Upon hearing this, Xie Renfeng was first startled, then a ruthless expression surfaced on his face.

Chen Mu could not believe it, his face filled with shock. “How is this possible? Xie Guan is young, a bastard son—how could he possess such cultivation? Lord Yuan, how did you learn this?”

“Information leaked from the Su Xiang’s household.”

Liu Yuan said slowly, “Do not underestimate Xie Guan. Not a single moment of carelessness is allowed.”

Chen Mu sneered, “Even so, if he shows up today, he has only one path: death.”

“The entire Yanbo Tower, inside and out, is surrounded by an inescapable net—he cannot fly away.”

(End of Chapter)