Chapter 1044

"Yes, we can pursue two tracks at once; otherwise, the mundane technology line moves too slowly—array research is so much faster. Don't you have confidence in yourself?"

Zhang Zijin lifted his eyelids and glanced at her. "Your goading won't work on me. Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I want to give it to the Emperor," Pan Yun said. "Every time I write to him, I have to write so many characters. I'm exhausted."

Zhang Zijin: …

"Besides, the Emperor treats me well, and I'm happy. This could be a gift for him." Pan Yun grew increasingly enthusiastic. "I've decided—this gift will be his coming-of-age present."

"In less than a year," Zhang Zijin sneered. "You're awfully confident."

Pan Yun: "With our cultivation levels and abilities, if we can't create a Spirit Communication Device in a year, we're useless."

"You, not me," Zhang Zijin said. "I never agreed to this."

Pan Yun was curious: "Aren't you bored staying in the palace every day? Why not find something to do?"

Zhang Zijin replied bluntly: "If you're perfectly content where you are, and suddenly someone assigns you extra work, are you happy about it?"

"I'm happy," Pan Yun said. "I learn new knowledge, deepen my understanding of this world—why wouldn't I be happy?"

Pan Yun stood up, her eyes blazing. "Cultivation is cultivation—aren't we refining the true nature of the world and our own true nature? If you don't understand the world, how can you cultivate?"

Zhang Zijin fell into thought.

Pan Yun leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table, her gaze piercing. "Senior, do you truly intend to spend your entire life guarding just this palace, without advancing further?"

Zhang Zijin's eyes trembled slightly as he looked up at her.

Their gazes locked, neither yielding.

Long moments passed before Zhang Zijin spoke coldly: "My fate is bound to the Great Ming's destiny. Since the Zhou, no dynasty has lasted five hundred years. The Han endured the longest—four hundred and seven years—but split into Eastern and Western Han. The Tang lasted two hundred and eighty-nine years. The Song lasted three hundred and nineteen years—but split into Northern and Southern Song. The Yuan Dynasty, needless to say, lasted only ninety-eight years—less than a century. If we count Eastern and Western Han separately, Northern and Southern Song separately, then no dynasty—whether the mighty Han, the glorious Tang, or the prosperous Song—has ever stood independently for over three hundred years."

"Do you understand the meaning of the mid-point collapse?" Zhang Zijin said softly. "It means the dynasty once faced a rupture, a near-collapse."

Pan Yun's gaze sharpened. "You're bound to the national destiny—you'll bear the backlash of its decline. It's not just that the Zhang family head is bound to the national destiny…"

Pan Yun paused, noticing Zhang Zijin's mocking expression, and fell into thought.

It's different. They're all bound to the national destiny—but it's not the same.

The Zhang family heads' lifespans grow shorter with each generation—as if their vital energy were being drained away;

yet Zhang Zijin remains unharmed—but if he truly is bound to the Great Ming's destiny…

Pan Yun looked at him with pity.

Even the highest cultivation cannot halt the collapse of an entire dynasty.

Pan Yun's brow furrowed slightly. "Why did you agree to such a condition?"

Zhang Zijin's eyes held mockery as he picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup. "I only agreed to protect this palace and the Emperor from demonic cultivators. The one who pledged himself to the national destiny was the Zhang family's Heavenly Master."

Pan Yun fell silent for a moment, drew back her arm, and sat properly on the mat opposite him. "When did you realize you were bound to the national destiny?"

"When the late Emperor went on campaign."