Chapter 41: The Emperor Is Frivolous—He Cannot Rule the Realm!

Qingyang Secret Art: Regenerate Mystic Water!

Bring the dead back to life, restore flesh to bones.

This artificially created secret art is astonishingly powerful.

This was beyond anyone’s expectations.

Thus, one after another observer began to appear.

One by one, extraordinary masters emerged—Mufu, Xiangfu, the imperial clan, Western Qin, Eastern Qi, Southern Chen—all sent powerful figures.

Dou Changsheng watched the countless gazes fixed upon him, sighed inwardly, and knew that after today, he would once again become famous.

Dou Changsheng would rather not have this kind of fame.

Lately, his reputation has grown too large, exceeding his actual strength—this is the path to disaster.

Great fame often conceals inadequate ability.

It’s no surprise something goes wrong!

Dou Changsheng recited the Qingyang Secret Art aloud, almost as if muttering to himself.

As everything ended, the elder elder tapped Dou Changsheng on the shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”

“The rest is no longer our concern.”

Dou Changsheng glanced at Qingyang Daoist; though he had revealed the Qingyang Secret Art, his value remained extremely high.

The legacy of San Yang Shenjun, the Qingyang Secret Art—even if not fake—whether Qingyang Daoist had withheld something, especially the most crucial line, remained uncertain.

The best solution, then, was to take Qingyang Daoist away and imprison him for slow interrogation.

But now, with all sides gathered here, who should claim Qingyang Daoist?

That was the question.

Dou Changsheng shook his head slightly, did not leave immediately, but spoke to Qingyang Daoist: “This time, the Qingyang Spring has opened.”

“I have earned the right to take some of the Qingyang Spring water.”

“Please, Elder Qingyang, tell me where the Qingyang Spring is located.”

“I will take only what is rightfully mine; I will not touch a single drop more.”

Qingyang Daoist refused to look at Dou Changsheng, merely waved a hand in random direction; Dou Changsheng followed the direction, thanked Qingyang Daoist, arrived at the place where the Qingyang Spring water was stored, and picked up one of the sealed jade bottles.

There were many jade bottles left, but Dou Changsheng was not greedy; he turned to Wang Tianhe and said, “Let’s go.”

Wang Tianhe waved his sleeve, and all the jade bottles vanished; he spoke calmly: “They eat the meat; we drink the broth.”

“They won’t mind.”

With that, he seized Dou Changsheng and rose into the air.

Suspended midair, Dou Changsheng looked down and saw Qingyang Peak gradually shrinking.

Meanwhile, a treasure tower had grown with the wind, expanding into a colossal form nearly thirty meters tall, standing atop the heavens, radiating auroras and auspicious qi; each level of the tower hung bronze bells that swayed wildly, striking furiously.

The Demon-Reflecting Mirror, the Treasure Mirror—each level bore a treasure, gradually glowing brighter, until together they blazed like a great sun, dazzling and supreme.

The battle had erupted.

Dou Changsheng watched the combat, his eyes filled with awe and envy.

The battle of a Land Rank master had shaken the heavens; every movement affected heaven and earth.

Seeing this, Dou Changsheng could not help asking: “Who will ultimately claim Qingyang Daoist?”

“And what of the military pay?”

Wang Tianhe let the night wind ripple his robes, smiled lightly at the scene below, and said indifferently: “Qingyang Daoist’s end will be death.”

“So many powerful figures fighting—it’s hard to determine a winner.”

“But in the end, they will unite—Mufu, Xiangfu, and the imperial clan will join forces, for they are all from Northern Jin.”

“Northern Jin holds geographical advantage; how can Southern Chen, Western Qin, and Eastern Qi compare?”

“Yet they won’t let Qingyang Daoist fall into Northern Jin’s hands—they’ll kill him instead: if I can’t have him, neither will you.”

“The one who strikes will most likely be Tang Qingyan.”

“Though only a Pure Yin master, she ranks among the top twenty on the Land Rank list, overpowering countless Golden Core masters—her unparalleled speed.”

“Anyone she targets never survives.”

“Princess Ye represents the favored child of night.”

“Avoid her in the future—she’s too complicated.”

“She’s entangled with the Heavenly Demon Palace and closely tied to the world’s strongest assassin organization, First Tower.”

“Many suspect she is one of the Ten Assassins of First Tower.”

“The assassination of the Western Qin Merchant Marquis is suspected to be her doing.”

“She is an oddity among the Jiangdu Tang clan—everyone else is safe to deal with, but her, you must be cautious.”

Wang Tianhe warned him thoroughly, fearing Dou Changsheng might stray.

Tang Qingyan was indeed complex; Dou Changsheng had seen it clearly and had no intention of further contact—he was too weak, among these Land Rank masters, like a Husky among wolves.

Seeing Dou Changsheng nod, Wang Tianhe turned his gaze toward the capital and said: “The military pay matter has dragged on too long.”

“The timing is now right.”

“Yu Yun’s prestige has been eroded enough.”

“The people of the North no longer trust him; Mufu’s decline is inevitable.”

“Wuxiu Valley and Tianjian Gate have both broken away from Mufu, refusing orders; the former Land Rank No. 13, Jiuyou Hermit Bai Zizai, who hadn’t left Jiuyou Valley in thirty years, has now emerged again.”

“He has personally arrived at Chen Family Fortress; Firecloud True Person fled without fighting.”

“Bai Zizai has completed nine turns of Golden Core, flawless and perfect; now he gathers the hearts of the North, seeks to unify its qi, and attempts to cross the Thunder Tribulation, transforming from mortal to Celestial.”

“This was meant to be Yu Yun’s destiny—the North supported him to help him advance further.”

“To become King of the North, securing its interests.”

“Twenty thousand elite border troops, Tianjian Gate, Wuxiu Valley, and other sects, plus the many powerful figures gathered under Mufu, the Nine Adopted Sons—Yu Yun’s enfeoffment as king was certain.”

“But at the critical moment, he stepped back.”

“That step back cost him the hearts of the North.”

“And created the current chaos.”

Wang Tianhe sneered: “This isn’t over.”

“Yu Yun is suspected—even if he stepped back, what does it matter?”

“Once the seed of suspicion takes root, it won’t vanish—it will grow.”

“This man is like my late elder brother—unable to be ruthless at the crucial moment, how can he accomplish anything great?”

“He fears the Hu Ren’s southern advance, worries he cannot resist without imperial aid, fears the North will fall and the people suffer.”

“But doesn’t he realize? By stepping back, he lost the North’s hearts—his foundation is crumbling, he can’t even unify the North—how then can he gain imperial support? Even if someone else later leads the defense against the Hu Ren, it won’t be him.”

“The people of the North fear that after shedding blood and tears, Yu Yun will betray them.”

“This time, Chen Qingyao is the most complex.”

“He had the power to prevent all of this.”

“Yet he chose to stand by, letting Firecloud True Person lead a band of misfits northward.”

“Even I can see—Firecloud True Person has already defected to the young emperor, acting under Xiangfu’s name, only inviting scandal for the chancellor’s office.”

Dou Changsheng spoke: “Qingyang Daoist, without doubt, is the young emperor’s man.”

“This theft of military pay was perfectly orchestrated under his arrangement.”

Wang Tianhe sneered: “When Qingyang Daoist declared the military pay was fake, he exposed himself as the emperor’s agent.”

“This man is audacious enough to pluck grains from the fire—because it was his escape plan. After committing such a grand act, he faked his death, stirred up a storm, and drew all attention to you and the young emperor—no one will suspect he’s alive.”

“Using the emperor as a pawn, Qingyang Daoist is no ordinary man—if he succeeds this time—”

“From the light into the shadows, he’ll truly become a dragon entering the sea, a fish leaping to the nine heavens.”

Unfortunately, Master Qingyang made one wrong move and failed at the final hurdle.

“I even suspect the theft of military pay was Qingyang Daoist’s own idea for the young emperor.”

“Hongyang was likely the liaison—Qingyang Daoist couldn’t enter the capital easily, so Hongyang carried messages.”

“That’s why the imperial clan sent Liu Baiyu, the Tower-Bearing Heavenly King, in person—Qingyang Daoist’s end will be death.”

Suddenly, a bird with pure white wings fluttered gently to Wang Tianhe’s side; Wang Tianhe raised his hand, and the bird landed on his palm.

Wang Tianhe removed the letter from the bird, glanced at it, then crushed it with his fingers; the letter disintegrated into countless fragments, scattering across heaven and earth.

Wang Tianhe stared at Dou Changsheng, silent for a long while, then spoke: “This time… it’s truly interesting.”

“Let’s go—to the capital.”

“To witness a great event.”

The capital, a majestic city, now lay clearly in view.

Outside the capital’s gates, Wang Tianhe led Dou Changsheng step by step through the city gate, arriving before a grand and imposing mansion.

They walked straight to the main hall, where a middle-aged scholar in loose robes sat, most strikingly marked by his eyes—crimson-gold, like dragon’s eyes, radiating immense pressure.

Wang Tianhe arrived, stroked his beard, and spoke calmly: “The Chancellor has summoned us.”

“What does he want?”

Chen Qingyao’s gaze remained calm; he did not answer directly, but raised a hand, signaling patience.

Moments later, a tall woman in a black long dress, supported by a young girl, slowly entered the main hall; her voice, hoarse, asked: “You wish to see Yu Yun—why summon me?”

Chen Qingyao stepped out of the main hall, arriving outside the mansion.

Dou Changsheng followed and saw a crowd of officials in court robes gathered outside.

Chen Qingyao spoke calmly: “Wucheng Prince, Yuecheng Prince.”

“Have all the imperial clan princes residing in the capital arrived?”

One of the big men stepped forward voluntarily and said in a deep voice: “All are here.”

Chen Qingyao pointed at the woman in black and said: “Tell the Grand Princess why you have gathered here.”

Wucheng Prince’s expression turned solemn, and he spoke calmly: “Military pay has been stolen; the court and the realm are in turmoil.”

“The Grand General sacrificed himself for the nation and the northern lands, willingly entering prison to quell the unrest.”

“Yet some still refuse to let go, continuously inciting the hearts of the northern people.”

“First, officials seized farmland from border troops; then, martial artists murdered the families of border soldiers, causing the troops’ morale to crumble and the frontier to destabilize.”

“Liang is wealthy, yet its wealth does not flow north—instead, it is squandered on lavish palace construction. How could the north not fester with resentment? Who in the realm does not feel cold at heart?”

“All these crimes are countless; they all stem from one man.”

“I ask you, Grand Princess.”

“Is this realm the Liu family’s realm—or one man’s?”

The Grand Princess shoved forward, and the girl stumbled, nearly falling—but no one paid attention to her, the Emperor’s most beloved sister.

Every gaze fixed upon the Grand Princess.

But the Grand Princess did not look at Wucheng Prince; she turned to Chen Qingyao, her eyes cold, her lips parting to utter three words: “Chen Qingyao!”

Chen Qingyao did not answer. A tall figure had already stepped forward.

Standing before the crowd, he stared at the Grand Princess and spoke coldly: “The northern lands suffer.”

“Every day, starving civilians die. Yet over these two years, the capital’s palaces have been massively expanded—Donghua Hall, Tianhe Hall—all completed. Drunken revelry, debauchery—had it ended there, we might have tolerated it. But the stolen military pay forced righteous men to sell their blood just to stabilize morale.”

“How could we not resent it?”

“Today, I speak for the northern lands to express our hearts to you, Grand Princess.”

“See if you can bear the hatred of tens of millions in the north.”

The tall, obese figure spoke calmly, his fat quivering. As the final word fell, he plunged his hand into his chest, grasped his heart, and tore it out.

“This is the heart of the northern lands!”

The Grand Princess stared, trembling, and bit her lip: “The Breakthrough Captain must not die!”

“Take him away! Use Immortal Pills to save him!”

Watching as the commander of Jianmen Pass, the Breakthrough Captain, was carried off, and staring at the bloody trail on the ground, the Grand Princess growled: “Where is Yu Yun?”

“Without his approval, you would not dare.”

“Nor would so many have gathered.”

Finally, she fixed her gaze on Wang Tianhe and asked: “And what of you?”

Wang Tianhe sighed: “Your Highness, why deceive yourself?”

“This scene already proves the people have lost all faith.”

“So many gathered here, united only because they have no hope left—only despair drives them to this choice.”

“The stolen military pay is simply unbearable.”

“Grand General Yu willingly took the blame—and still they refuse to let him go, relentlessly pursuing him.”

“Grand General Yu is loyal and brave, revered by all. When the world hears of his fate, who does not feel cold at heart?”

The Grand Princess exhaled a long, heavy breath and looked calmly at Chen Qingyao: “You let him run rampant. You watched him play his games, waiting for this moment.”

“You orchestrated Grand General Yu’s imprisonment.”

“You sought to strip him of the people’s support—you betrayed the late Emperor’s trust.”

Chen Qingyao spoke solemnly:

“The Emperor is frivolous—he cannot rule the realm.”

“The Emperor may abandon the empire, but I, entrusted by the late Emperor to revive Great Jin, cannot turn away.”

“These four regions, over fifty prefectures—I shall bear them alone.”