Chapter 670: A Single Word Casts Celestial and Infernal Deities into the Dust

Whether in the Heavenly Realm, the myriad cave palaces, or the city god lands of the Underworld on earth, all echoed Luo Fu’s voice, thunderous and commanding.

“Within the imperial palace, all supernatural arts are forbidden!”

Accompanied by a voice like a divine decree from Heaven, Luo Fu lightly pressed his imperial seal against the empty air before him.

Boom.

In the realm invisible to mortals, as Luo Fu’s seal touched the void, Heaven itself responded as if bound by his decree.

At that moment, within Jinling City, whether celestial gods of the Heavenly Court, yin deities of the Underworld, wandering spirits, or even mortal cultivators, all saw a monstrous, writhing spectral dragon circling once above the imperial palace before vanishing abruptly.

Simultaneously, the entire imperial palace became like a black hole—every supernatural technique, whether divination or divine sight, lost all efficacy within Jinling’s walls; worse still, the palace had become a complete dead zone for spiritual energy: any supernatural power weakened progressively the closer it approached, and by the time it reached the palace walls, it vanished entirely, while wandering souls dissolved into nothingness.

After completing all this, a melodious voice came from behind Luo Fu’s four-poster bed.

“Your Majesty?”

Turning toward the sound, Lin Daiyu, now draped in a light robe, her jet-black hair loose, her formerly pale face flushed with a captivating rosy glow.

This was not the mere flush of exertion or rising blood, but the healthy hue of vital energy.

Long before Luo Fu chose Lin Daiyu as his principal consort, he had already used his own power to resolve her innate physical deficiencies.

“Why suddenly retrieve the national seal?” Lin Daiyu asked, surprised, lifting her delicate jade feet from the bed and pulling on a cloak as she walked toward Luo Fu. “Your Majesty, the night is cold—put on a robe.”

Arriving beside Luo Fu, she draped the cloak over him, her expression curious: why had he retrieved the national seal at such a late hour?

Logically, after Luo Fu ascended the throne and established his court, the imperial bedchamber should not have held only him and Lin Daiyu.

At least several eunuchs, maids, and Lin Daiyu’s personal maid, Zi Juan, should have been present, ready to serve.

But this period was precisely when Luo Fu and Lin Daiyu were working to consolidate the foundation of the state.

And yet, the palace’s ancient customs, inherited over countless generations, remained rigidly strict.

To avoid disruption, Luo Fu had ordered the eunuchs and maids to withdraw beyond the bedchamber doors.

The matter of Fu Ming Ling Wang was merely a minor diversion to Luo Fu.

Moreover, he did not wish it to disturb Lin Daiyu; after vaguely brushing it aside, he swept her up in his arms and strode toward the four-poster bed.

“Your Majesty…”

With Lin Daiyu’s soft coo, the four-poster bed soon resumed its alluring, intoxicating sounds.

In the city god temple of the capital.

The city god statue seated upon the altar suddenly exploded as if an explosive had been planted inside—its thunderous rupture shook nearly half the capital.

Instantly, the capital, under curfew, plunged into panic.

The Five Military Commissions, Shuntian Prefecture, and all civil and military officials were forced to rise at once.

Within the imperial palace.

The Retired Emperor and the reigning monarch had not yet rested.

Before them stood several Daoist priests in robes and Buddhist monks in cassocks, as if performing some ritual.

The next instant, the Daoists and monks suddenly suffered violent backlash—some spat blood, others screamed in agony.

One Daoist, with the face of a child and hair of white crane feathers, was clearly the highest-ranking among them.

Though also struck by the backlash, after spitting blood and turning ashen-faced, he still forced himself to speak to the Retired Emperor and the reigning monarch: “Your Majesty, that… that Luo Tian rogue has killed Fu Ming Ling Wang—Fu Ming Ling Wang is dead.”

The faces of the Retired Emperor and the reigning monarch darkened instantly.

Fu Ming Ling Wang, though a high-ranking yin deity in the Underworld’s hierarchy, meant little to them.

After all, in this world built on incense worship, human authority truly towered above celestial and infernal deities.

During the height of the state’s glory, emperors once had the power to cast celestial and infernal deities into the dust with a single word.

What truly darkened the Retired Emperor and the reigning monarch’s faces was the symbolic meaning behind Fu Ming Ling Wang’s death.

Fu Ming Ling Wang had been sent, at their explicit instruction, to negotiate peace with Luo Fu through supernatural means.

Now that Fu Ming Ling Wang was dead, it proved Luo Fu had no intention of peace—and perhaps by dawn, news of Luo Tian’s northern campaign would arrive.

At this moment, when Beiqing was weak, it possessed no force capable of resistance.

How could the Retired Emperor and the reigning monarch not be stricken with dread at the impending doom?

“Damn it! Damn it!” The reigning monarch, lacking the Retired Emperor’s composure and unable to mask his emotions, erupted in rage: “I will exterminate the Luo Tian rogue’s nine clans! No—ten clans! All those surnamed Luo deserve death! And the Jia family—traitorous parasites—all must be slaughtered!”

“Emperor, calm yourself,” the Retired Emperor said, his face grim, chastising him.

“Father,” the reigning monarch, face flushed, blurted out despite the Daoists and monks still present: “At this moment, why do Itachi still protect those traitorous parasites? Had the Jia family not been so lax in discipline, allowing their vile servants to oppress the innocent, would we face this catastrophe? Won’t Itachi correct the chaos? Must Itachi shield those fools of the Jia family?”

“Enough,” the Retired Emperor roared. “Itachi may dispose of the Luo Tian rogue’s clan and kin as Itachi wish—but the Jia family, punish them lightly, for now.”

As he spoke, the Retired Emperor waved his hand, and a group of palace guards rushed in, dragging away the battered Daoists and monks.

Once the chamber held only the two emperors, the Retired Emperor said: “The Jia family deserves punishment—but not now. Beiqing must unite against this crisis. The Jia family will be dealt with after we pacify the south.”

“I fear neither Itachi nor I will live to see the south pacified,” the reigning monarch snapped. “I refuse to be the last emperor of a fallen dynasty.”

The reigning monarch’s words left the Retired Emperor silent.

Beiqing’s situation was now painfully awkward.

After more than a century, the privileged class had become deeply entwined with Beiqing’s fate.

Especially the noble aristocracy—greedy, yet utterly incompetent.

Yet even so, the imperial house could not punish them now, for this was precisely the moment Beiqing needed unity above all else.

To purge the aristocracy at this critical juncture, no matter the justification, would breed fear and resentment among them, and might even drive them to betray Beiqing outright—neither emperor could bear that cost.

If Beiqing survived this crisis, later purges of the Jia family and other nobles would be trivial.

But Beiqing’s long-simmering contradictions had erupted prematurely because of Luo Fu’s rise.

And the more this happened, the less likely the court’s civil and military officials were to stand with the imperial house.

The Retired Emperor knew this—but he could do nothing.

Not purging the aristocracy meant Beiqing would eventually collapse under accumulated grievances; purging them now would hasten its end.

This utterly intractable contradiction was precisely what both emperors understood all too well.

The Retired Emperor sighed deeply: “Do I wish to be the last emperor of a fallen dynasty?”

“Itachi are Retired Emperor now—the last emperor will be me alone, and I alone will bear the eternal disgrace in history,” the reigning monarch said, eyes red.

Suddenly weary, as if his spirit had broken, the Retired Emperor waved his hand: “Fine. Do as Itachi will. But the Jia family still has some use. They wish to hedge their bets by sending those two bastard daughters south? Jia Zheng’s legitimate daughter is here in the palace—give her a title, send her south, and grant the Jia family their wish.”

“Father, at this moment, are Itachi still protecting the Jia family?” the reigning monarch cried, heartbroken.

“Fool,” the Retired Emperor said, exasperated. “I am giving Itachi an excuse to purge the Jia family. Send this Jia daughter to Luo Fu’s side—whether he takes her as a concubine or executes her, Itachi gain your pretext to destroy the Jia family, while simultaneously appeasing the other nobles.”

A faint relief washed over the reigning monarch, but he gritted his teeth: “Luo Fu rose in rebellion precisely because the Jia family’s servants provoked him—why isn’t that enough to punish them?”

“Itachi are too impatient,” the Retired Emperor said. “Some things cannot be spoken aloud. Do Itachi think only the Jia family oppresses the people and exploits the weak? No—every official, civil or military, is stained by this sin.”

The reigning monarch’s worldview shattered. He stared, aghast: “How… how has Beiqing come to this?”

“Every dynasty in history has been the same,” the Retired Emperor said coldly.

His tone softened slightly: “Go. That Jia daughter—Itachi never liked her. Just send her to Luo Fu in the south.”

“But…” the reigning monarch protested, unwilling.

After all, Jia Yuanchun was, in theory, his.

Even if he disliked her, giving her to Luo Fu still felt unbearable.

“Itachi are emperor. Itachi must understand: to bear the nation’s disgrace is to be its sovereign; to bear the nation’s misfortune is to be its king. If Itachi cannot endure even this humiliation, how can Itachi rule all under heaven?”

To the reigning monarch, the Retired Emperor’s words now sounded like cruel amusement.

But remembering Beiqing’s perilous state, no matter how humiliating or bitter, he accepted his father’s will.

At dawn, two edicts issued from the Beiqing palace.

One sent to Rongguo Mansion; one to the Imperial Prison.

The edict to Rongguo Mansion formally granted Jia Yuanchun the title of County Lady and arranged her marriage to Luo Fu, dispatching envoys to “pacify” Luo Fu.

Sent to Rongguo Prefecture was an official edict granting Jia Yuanchun the title of County Lady and arranging her marriage alliance with Luo Fu, dispatching envoys to solemnly summon Luo Fu.

In essence, this was merely a disguised plea for peace—but it could not be called “peace negotiations,” for the reigning monarch could never propose it himself, and the Retired Emperor, having abdicated, would never bear that shame.

No minister would dare step forward to shoulder such infamy on Beiqing’s behalf.

Thus, they resorted to this farcical charade: pretending to “pacify” while actually seeking peace.

This was also why Luo Fu had declared himself king, not emperor—for if he had declared himself emperor, Beiqing would have lost even this final shred of dignity.

Upon receiving the edict, Rongguo Mansion erupted in jubilation.

To them, if Jia Yuanchun married Luo Fu, even if Beiqing fell, the Jia family would at least survive.

Yet Jia Jing saw the abyss hidden behind the edict—but the Jia family had no choice.

After all, Luo Fu’s rebellion had branded the Jia family as a target for annihilation by both Beiqing and Luo Fu alike.

Now, sending a daughter was their only option.

Simultaneously, another edict was sent from the palace—to the Imperial Prison.

Logically, Luo Fu’s rebellion should have warranted the complete extermination of the Luo clan.

But earlier, they had hoped Fu Ming Ling Wang could buy time, and the Luo clan had no talent to speak of—sending them to Luo Fu only burdened him further.

Otherwise, the reigning monarch would never have spared them as hostages.

In truth, the entire sequence of events had unfolded so improbably, and the decisions of the Beiqing court—including the Jia family—had seemed so absurd, even foolishly coincidental, all serving Luo Fu’s rise.

The reason? Luo Fu had become the very focus of this world’s cosmic fortune.

Or rather, it was not that the world favored Luo Fu—it was that Luo Fu had seized control of this world.

His unique nature caused every thought of his to manifest as if by wish fulfillment.

The laws of Heaven, fate, and karma now actively bent to satisfy his desires—not instantly, but through a process.

The laws of heaven and the karma of fate will actively fulfill Luo Fu’s desires, but not instantly—rather, they require a process.

Thus, everything became utterly unbelievable.

It was as if Luo Fu bore a global aura of intellectual dullness, causing everyone who stood against him to make foolish decisions.

(End of Chapter)