Chapter 170

Li Guanyi's sudden shout made Yan Xuanji freeze in place.

They had already been heading toward the 【Hideout of Marshal Yue】, following the intelligence, having smashed through wave after wave of defenders—but Yan Xuanji's steps halted abruptly because of Li Guanyi's cry.

He swung his mixed-gold mystic-iron staff, sending several imperial guards flying.

"Young Master, what did you say?!"

Yan Xuanji stared at Li Guanyi, blood dripping drop by drop from his heavy weapon.

Li Guanyi's eyes shimmered with qi, fixed on another direction—the image of the Jin Chida tearing into a black two-headed serpent—his heart pounded violently—the ability to directly perceive Dharma Phases, the most basic power granted by the Bronze Nine Cauldrons, now gave the most direct direction.

Yan Xuanji demanded: "Are you certain?!"

Li Guanyi said: "General Yan, trust me!"

"Fine!"

Yan Xuanji looked at Li Guanyi, paused, turned, gripped his weapon, and charged toward that spot like a tiger, smashing and flinging aside every enemy in his path; though the imperial palace was not especially vast, every second now felt endlessly long.

Every breath seemed infinitely stretched.

Familiar scenery twisted beneath heat and flame; imperial guards and martial artists clashed, their blade auras wildly misdirected, some even falling to the sword qi of their own allies.

All had gone blood-mad.

The mixed-gold mystic-iron staff swept, blocking weapon after weapon; Li Guanyi stared fixedly at the scene as the Poison Dragon rolled and the Great Peng spread its wings, tearing violently apart—meanwhile, he continuously tried to calculate the location pointed to by the Four Symbols Spirit-Sealing Array.

………………

A spear thrust out, radiating a solemn aura; its tip pierced a martial artist's chest, then an unbroken wave of force slammed into the man—this was the technique of a legendary general from five hundred years ago: 【Crush Mountain】.

Unceasing, vast, and ruthlessly dominant.

The martial artist was killed outright; the attacker withdrew his spear, clad in ill-fitting armor clearly hastily donned before rushing here, his brow still furrowed with urgency—it was Chen's Crown Prince, Chen Wenmian, who had originally been taken by the Emperor to a secondary palace for a grand banquet.

He noticed his mother had not come; he felt an instinct, primal and animal-like, rushed here—and found fighting already underway; disregarding all attempts to stop him, the young Crown Prince stormed inside.

Someone tried to block him; the Crown Prince roared back:

"I am the nation's heir, the Crown Prince!"

"Enemies have breached Chen's imperial palace, trampling the nation's dignity—must I cower like a coward, utterly lacking in responsibility? Go, swiftly inform my father, and order a general to restore order."

"Your Highness is the Emperor's son, of priceless worth—you cannot fall here."

"I am the Emperor's son, but also the son of this land and nation—to die for the nation's dignity is to die with purpose!"

The Crown Prince shoved aside the eunuch, staring at the palace engulfed in flames; it seemed shrouded by a peculiar array, invisible from the secondary palace—only upon entering the imperial avenue could one perceive the severity of the situation.

The Crown Prince ordered troop deployments, then suddenly realized something, grabbed someone, and barked:

"Where is the Empress?!"

The eunuch turned pale with fear: "The Empress… we haven't seen her."

"Wasn't she at the banquet in the secondary palace?"

Chen Wenmian's face turned ashen; he shoved the man aside: "Bring me armor!!" He suppressed his shock and fury, completed the battle formation as best he could, splashed water over himself, seized his spear, and charged into the palace without hesitation.

The fire within the palace was not overwhelming, but many martial artists were present—all elite; Chen Wenmian, raised by the world's fifteenth divine general, Xiao Wu Liang, wielded a spear with lethal precision, fighting his way to the Empress's palace—yet even at the door, he could hear her chanting sutras.

Chen Wenmian reached out to push open the door.

The door was locked!

Chen Wenmian forgot past conflicts with his mother; he slammed his shoulder against the barred hall door.

He stormed in, seeing the Empress still kneeling before the Buddha altar, chanting sutras; the young Crown Prince, shocked and furious, gripped his bloodied spear, rushed forward three steps, seized his mother, and shouted: "What are you doing?!"

"Empress, come with me!"

The Empress continued chanting sutras; Chen Wenmian clutched her wrist tightly, finally crying out:

"Mother!"

He knelt, forcibly turning her body, and saw her face streaked with tears, eyes bloodshot, no makeup, filled with terror, release, and resignation—as she stared at him.

Chen Wenmian froze; he felt something, lifted his head—and for the first time, looked directly at the Buddha altar: a typical Central Plains Buddhist altar; as a child, he had only seen its side—but now, standing inside his mother's chamber, he finally saw.

Before the Buddhas on the altar rested two spirit tablets.

【Spirit Tablet of Li Wanli】

【Spirit Tablet of Su Changqing】

Tai Ping realm, ten thousand miles of clear sky.

The Crown Prince felt as if struck by lightning; as imperial heir, he knew these names—Tai Ping Gong Li Wanli, his wife, the First-Rank Noble Lady Su Changqing.

He thought his mother was merely devout in Buddhism—but he never realized that for ten years, she had daily offered incense to these two.

Chen Wenmian's mind roared; he understood something—he stared at his mother, and only one circumstance could make the Empress and Emperor emotionally distant, only one circumstance could make his mother enshrine these two as long-life tablets.

They died by the Emperor's hand.

This was a bitter, tormented Empress, willing to sacrifice everything to make her son Emperor—yet now, before flames and Buddha statues, she was utterly broken, weeping; Chen Wenmian stared at her, and she stared at her son, reaching out to touch him.

But her hand could not move; finally, she lowered it, whispering softly:

"Mother is dirty."

"I cannot touch you."

Chen Wenmian knelt, took her hand, placed it against his cheek; his own hand trembled: "Mother, come with me."

The woman cupped Chen Wenmian's face in her palms, whispering softly:

"Good child, good child… your father, your maternal grandfather, and I—we are all filthy, ruined people in this chaotic age—but you are different. You are a good person."

"You must become Emperor. You must right these wrongs."

"You must make your father disgraced, do you understand?"

She stared fixedly at her child, her eyes burning with mad determination.

Chen Wenmian looked at the woman before him.

Finally, the Empress lowered her gaze, reached out, and gently stroked the Crown Prince's head—her expression, serene and tender, as he had never seen before; she had always been gentle, innocent, radiant—she whispered:

Forget it.

You're still a soft-hearted child.

She suddenly pushed forward—the door concealed a mechanism; the floor instantly opened beneath her, and Chen Wenmian fell through. He shouted, but his mother did not stop. This secret passage led to a safe place outside the palace; the Empress sealed the passage shut.

She turned around, still gazing at the Buddha niche and the memorial plaques, then locked the door from within.

She picked up the lamp stand before the Buddha niche and set fire to the silk hangings inside the Empress's chambers.

The flames ignited by the great battle had already reached here; fire tongues lapped and surged. The array here seemed erased, no longer resisting water or fire. The hall stood empty. The Empress dropped the candle.

She sat there, stunned, staring at the two memorial plaques before her, as if she could still see those two people.

In her eyes, only exhaustion remained at last. She exhaled slowly, sitting there as if back in that spring wind of Jiangnan, watching the heroic young man singing loudly by the riverbank, the gentle girl smiling as she pinned a flower in her hair. She closed her eyes and whispered:

"Finally… I can go to you."

The fire blazed up, just as it had ten years ago.

It consumed the entire Empress's chambers.

Meanwhile.

In the Library Hall, the several elder masters prepared to act—but as they descended, someone ascended the stairs, holding a candle. Step by step, frost spread, grew, and slowly diffused, freezing the entire library.

A cold, detached voice. White hair fluttering at the temples.

The voice of the Long Princess, late by ten years, was icy. One hand held a candle; the other gripped a long sword, as if forged from celestial weapons. Boundless cold energy radiated outward, its chilling killing intent stiffening the bodies of the two royal experts.

"Uncles."

"Where are you going?"

The woman's brow was calm, but her sword qi was freezing. One elder glanced out the window—within the palace, flames surged wildly. Here, it was different: snowflakes fell one by one from the sky, like a scene from the Moon Palace, cold and sharp.

…………

Boom!!!

The Diliu Sect Master, Qu Zai Shi, unleashed a punch that shattered weapons and armor—but it was dispersed by an eerily gentle qi. That qi curled like waves, stubborn and inescapable. The Diliu Sect Master stared at the white-haired elder and finally exploded: "Chen Chengbi, are you really going to stop me?!"

The white-haired elder laughed, clapping his hands. "Flustered! Flustered!"

Chen Chengbi said: "Shen Yun Suan Yuan, that dead monk, dragged me up the mountain today."

"That black monk, that old baldhead, blocked me today, insisted I play chess, challenged me to a duel. Who doesn't see his scheme? Back then, when he sent me down the mountain, he nearly tricked me into mining in the quarries. Did he think he could fool me?"

"Just like that year with Puyang—he wanted to lure me out again."

"This time, I'm different."

"You fooled me once—did you think you could fool me again?"

Qu Zai Shi said: "Then aren't you afraid you're blocking the good man?!"

Chen Chengbi looked at him, and the old man said: "Grandson, let me teach you something."

"Good men never say they're good."

"Besides, I don't know who's right or wrong—but you, an outsider, full of martial skill, with sneaky eyes and a furtive look—you've got problems!"

"Let's fight!"

Qu Zai Shi flew into rage. The old man suddenly stopped his usual teasing. He slammed out a palm strike—the heavens dimmed slightly, and a vast, overwhelming force erupted. Qu Zai Shi suddenly felt a suffocating chill and murderous aura.

The elder's white hair whipped wildly; his eyes reflected a sliver of icy killing intent, turning his pupils nearly blood-red. The man standing here was no longer the jester who laughed and cursed—he was the Mad King who had once purged countless mountain sects in blood.

This old man wasn't playing anymore.

Qu Zai Shi roared in fury, combining sword and blade:

"Fine! Let's see who lives and who dies today!"

………………

Everywhere, battles raged; everywhere, men fought. Li Guanyi and Yan Xuanji finally reached the location Li Guanyi had seen. Yan Xuanji glanced around—and as a former top general, he instantly recognized the place: "It's the Hidden Palace within the palace."

"Used to store precious items that are never needed under normal circumstances—like ceremonial regalia and ritual vessels used during grand sacrifices."

"Could Yue Pengwu be here too?!"

Yan Xuanji's heart surged. He charged in, wielding his dark weapon—but Li Guanyi's heart sank. He recalled Dan Tai Xianming's military tactics. Sure enough, as the two rushed in, flaming arrows and Lei Ting missiles rained down. Yan Xuanji swept his dark weapon, clearing away the thunder and fire.

A general, clad in Jin Guang armor, wielding a broad battle-axe, his brow bold and proud:

"By order of Chancellor Dan Tai, I have been waiting here a long time."

Yan Xuanji's killing intent surged: "Gu Dao Hui?!"

Li Guanyi suddenly remembered the name.

He had seen it in the Juan Sect records.

Gu Dao Hui, before the three of the Twenty-Four Generals rebelled, had reported to the court ahead of time, led troops to surround and kill them, personally beheaded Zhu Ge Qingyun and the other two generals, presented their heads to Emperor Chen Dingye, and was appointed Grand General of the Jinwu Guard, a rank-two military official, enfeoffed as Wu Hou.

Gu Dao Hui stared at the man in monk's robes, now stained with blood—though dressed as a monk, he still held a black iron staff, radiating killing aura—and fell silent. "Yan Xuanji…"

Yan Xuanji roared: "Gu Dao Hui, Master Zhu Ge and the others saved your life many times!"

"And you betrayed them!"

He appeared furious—but subtly shielded Li Guanyi behind him, gripping his weapon.

Li Guanyi looked at the general clad in the Jinwu Guard commander's armor. Gu Dao Hui's eyes were deep and dark. "I am loyal to the emperor and devoted to the state. They betrayed their homeland—should I join them in treachery?! Yan Xuanji, you're too naive!"

Yan Xuanji said: "We swore together, back then, to restore the world and bring peace to humanity. Have you forgotten?!"

Gu Dao Hui sneered: "What was that?"

"Long forgotten!"

"Enough talk. Shoot!"

Piercing arrows and armor-piercing bolts tore through the air, raining down. Yan Xuanji whispered "Run!" and seized Li Guanyi's collar, hurling him aside. Then he swept his dark weapon, clearing the storm of arrows. Gu Dao Hui watched Yan Xuanji and murmured: "How absurd."

"In chaotic times, people are always pushed into opposition."

"Where is there any justice?"

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