Chapter 841

Wang Feiyin sighed: "Who knows? Children grow up—I can't ask too detailed questions anymore."

Seeing Miao Zhen looked unconvinced: "How could you not know?"

"If she doesn't tell me, how would I know?"

"Then how do you know she's going to tear the sky apart?"

Wang Feiyin sighed again: "Didn't you watch the celestial signs these past days? I don't know what will happen, but the heavens have shifted—this dynasty may collapse, and that rogue star, ahem, the Wise Star, points straight to Mount Sanqing."

"After thinking it over, the only ones on the mountain who could cause a catastrophe are your Fourth Master and your Young Master," Wang Feiyin said. "Xuanmiao has Tao Ji watching over him—I divined twice, both times said they're safe. So it must be your Young Master."

"Why not directly divinate about your Young Master?"

Wang Feiyin only shook his head, saying nothing.

He couldn't divine her clearly—not since Pan Yun first came to Mount Sanqing, his divinations about her were always blurred, her fate always hazy.

But what did it matter?

Life is full of uncertainties—what's the point of a life you can see straight to the end?

Causing trouble doesn't matter—we already have one Xuanmiao on this mountain. Go back further, even my master was no less troublesome. So what's there to fear?

Wang Feiyin took his Young Sister's likely attempt to tear a hole in the sky with remarkable calm.

Seeing Miao Zhen, though sensible, was still young and accustomed to relying on adults. Since her Senior Uncle said it was fine, she took it as fine, and happily went after Pan Yun—she'd already decided what artifact she wanted.

This time, Wang Feiyin didn't need to lead them—Pan Yun could take them straight to Kaifeng to find Wang Tiejiang.

The materials Wang Feiyin and Pan Yun had gathered were excellent; Wang Tiejiang's eyes lit up at the sight.

He mostly forged ordinary weapons, farm tools, and kitchenware here—only occasionally did cultivators find their way to him.

But not everyone could bring materials as fine as those from Mount Sanqing.

He didn't do it for money—only to have good materials to test his craft.

Seeing Miao Zhen and the others lined up, named their desired artifacts, then handed over the materials on his list. The whole day passed; night fell.

Wang Tiejiang went inside, then came out shortly, handing Pan Yun a jade pendant: "This is what you asked for."

Pan Yun took it and casually set a money bag on the table—it thudded heavily when it landed. Xue Shao couldn't help but glance over.

Seeing Miao Zhen and the others were still lost in the excitement of soon owning their artifacts, they didn't think twice—but Xue Shao recognized that the jade pendant was nearly identical to the space artifact she'd given him.

The money bag must have been gold—so much gold. What was she having forged?

Kaifeng had a curfew—even on the sixteenth of the first month, still within the Mid-Autumn holiday—no curfew was lifted, so the streets were empty, save for the occasional sound of the night watchman's drum.

Pan Yun stopped, looked up at the sky, and said: "It's late. Let's find somewhere to rest for the night—we'll leave tomorrow."

The others agreed.

They didn't seek an inn—instead, following Pan Yun's familiarity, they found a City God Temple and slept right on the ground.

Pan Yun had no sleepiness at all; she climbed onto the roof and stared at the stars.

Xue Shao followed her up and sat beside her.

Between them, the air was thick and silent.

Pan Yun: "What do you see?"

Xue Shao: "My study of celestial signs is mediocre, but I can perceive qi."

Xue Shao drew her gaze from the sky and looked at Pan Yun softly: "Lately, your qi has been chaotic and unstable. And I've had a faint sense—there's murderous qi in the north."

Pan Yun: "The Wala are advancing south—the Emperor himself has led the campaign. Isn't it normal to sense murderous qi?"

Xue Shao shook her head, then said after a pause: "Tonight, it's worse."

Pan Yun stared at the flickering stars—suddenly, the celestial pattern shifted. The moonlight blazed fiercely; the Emperor Star instantly dimmed, and the stars around it dimmed as well, several vanishing entirely, as if swallowed by dark clouds.

Only one star, steadily approaching the Emperor Star, remained brilliantly luminous.

Pan Yun's pupils contracted. Even Xue Shao, with little knowledge of celestial signs, was startled—she leapt to her feet: "What's happening? Has Your Majesty come to harm?"

In a narrow alley in Jingcheng, Xu Cheng sat sipping wine, leisurely cracking open crabs, feeling poetic—just as he raised his head to compose a verse, he saw the sudden celestial shift.

He jumped in place, terrified, counted his fingers, heart pounding, immediately dropped his wine flask, and ran to find his wife.

His wife was sewing his inner robe when he snatched it from her: "Pack your things—you're leaving for the countryside tomorrow."

His wife stared blankly: "What's wrong? What happened?"

"The celestial signs have changed—Your Majesty may be in grave danger. Pack quickly—take our son and leave for the countryside tomorrow."

"How could that be? Besides, even if the Emperor is in peril, you're only a sixth-rank official, and…"

"What do you know? The Emperor went on campaign in person—do you think Datong is far from Jingcheng? If the Emperor falls, the Wala will attack Jingcheng. If the city falls, no one escapes death."

"Then… what about you?"

"You go first. I'll follow you later."

The Xu family hurriedly packed their belongings.

In the palace, the Spring Official and Winter Official, both observing the heavens, sighed in unison, exchanged glances, then one took his recorded scrolls to the Grand Secretariat, while the other walked through the corridor to a secluded chamber behind the inner palace and bowed: "Elder, the celestial signs have shifted—Your Majesty may be in peril."

Silence lingered in the room. Then a cold voice came: "Dynastic change follows its destined course. I, a Daoist, follow the Emperor Taizu's command—to protect the palace from demonic influences. Nothing else concerns me."

The Winter Official understood: Zhang Zijing wouldn't intervene. Nor would the Zhang family. They would only do their duty.

The Winter Official bowed and withdrew.

The Spring Official hurriedly pounded on the Grand Secretariat's door: "Danger! Danger! The celestial signs have changed—Your Majesty may face disaster!"

The entire Grand Secretariat sprang into action.

Yang Pu was very old—he rarely took shifts. Officials could only send messengers to his residence, and also to Prince Cheng.

The Emperor had left Jingcheng and appointed Prince Cheng as Regent.

In the silent Forbidden City, lanterns lit one by one, slowly flowing like a living current.

At the Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion, True Person Zhang gazed up at the altered heavens and murmured: "How could this be?"

He spat a mouthful of blood, then collapsed onto his mat, face as pale as gold paper.

Zhang Liuzhen also suffered a severe heartache, falling off the bed, his breath nearly cut off; after a long while, he regained his strength and rang the bell.

The Dao acolyte entered, saw him fallen, and panicked, rushing to help him up.

Zhang Liuzhen wiped the blood from his lips, glanced at the crimson in his hand, and burst out laughing.

The Dao acolyte was terrified: "Senior Brother?"

Zhang Liuzhen raised his hand to cut him off, his eyes blazing as if filled with fire: "Help me back to the Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion!"

The Dao acolyte quickly hoisted him onto his back and hurried downstairs; just before reaching the door, Zhang Liuzhen gripped him and whispered: "No, go fetch Zhang Ziwang—have him come down the mountain to meet me."

If the Dao acolyte carries me out of the courtyard like this, everyone will know immediately—that is not what I want.

The Dao acolyte promptly set him down by the door, quietly opened it, and sprinted toward Zhang Ziwang's courtyard.

After a long while, Zhang Ziwang and the Dao acolyte hurried over, lifted Zhang Liuzhen, and silently took him down the mountain.

Zhang Maocheng collapsed on the Star Gazing Terrace and was not discovered until Zhang Liuzhen returned.

The news was temporarily contained within the main courtyard.

Zhang Ziwang paced frantically; when Zhang Liuzhen withdrew his fingers from the pulse, he immediately stepped forward and asked: "How is it?"

Zhang Liuzhen, pale-faced, said: "His lifespan is exhausted."

"How could this be?" Zhang Ziwang clenched his fists and whispered: "I'll go summon Wang Feiyin right away."

"It's useless," Zhang Liuzhen called out to him, whispering: "Originally, Father could have lasted until year's end, but an accident occurred."

"The True Person's cultivation is high, his body has always been strong—he never even caught a cold or coughed. How could he suddenly fail? He's only fifty-nine! No, Chongyang hasn't arrived yet—he's not yet fifty-nine." As Zhang Ziwang spoke, tears streamed down his face.

Zhang Liuzhen, the biological son, remained remarkably calm: "Ziwang, I fear I may not even have this lifespan—even if I had never been injured, I might have lived no longer."

Zhang Ziwang stiffened, raising his head to look at him.

Zhang Liuzhen looked up and smiled at him: "Isn't it strange—why, since the founding of the new dynasty, have the direct heirs of our Zhang family, no matter how high their cultivation, always had short lifespans?"

Zhang Ziwang's heart pounded; he couldn't help stepping back two paces. He wanted to hear, but his body's instinct made him fear hearing this secret.

Zhang Liuzhen lowered his gaze: "I am a Dao Body. From birth, many placed great hopes on me. But my father was always cold—he never forbade me from cultivating, never withheld the treasures I needed, but he only gave them when I asked. He never proactively planned resources for me, never even inquired about my cultivation."

I didn't understand before—I was happy, thinking this was Father's trust and affection, granting me freedom.

Later, I learned that no matter how high my cultivation or how gifted I was, I could never escape death."

Zhang Liuzhen let out a light laugh: "The Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion, the reclusive elders, the various sects of the martial world—all believed they might live to see a cultivator ascend. Only Father knew it was impossible."

Zhang Ziwang asked painfully: "Why?"

"Because the direct heirs of the Zhang family are bound to the imperial house—we share their karmic burden," Zhang Liuzhen opened his palm: "When the Emperor prospers, the imperial qi is strong, and the Zhang direct heirs live longer; when the Emperor weakens, the imperial qi falters, and the Zhang direct heirs lose lifespan—their shortened lives are used to fill the imperial house's fortune."

Zhang Ziwang never expected to hear such a secret—he gaped, mouth open.

Zhang Liuzhen: "Zhang Zhengchang and his grandfather care only for the Zhang family's accumulated wealth and power over a thousand years; they know none of the details, so they've always sought to replace me."

He laughed, and the louder he thought, the louder he laughed—his distorted "ha-ha" echoed through the room.

Zhang Ziwang, deeply worried, fell to his knees with a thud: "Young Master!"

Zhang Liuzhen stopped laughing, wiped the tear from his eye with a finger: "What fools—they used treachery to destroy me, and killed so many others, all for the sake of a position that shortens lifespan."

I never needed it to begin with—I never aspired to it. But since there's no retreat left, I will not yield an inch."

Zhang Ziwang, seeing the True Person on the bed, face as yellow as gold, motionless, grew anxious: "Young Master, this is not the time to discuss this—I already understand. Rest assured, I will support you. But the True Person cannot die now. Li Wenying has gone out for the festival and is currently untraceable; Lin Jing was ordered to deliver the birthday gift to Jingcheng and won't return for several days. Let me go summon Wang Feiyin—even if it's a matter of lifespan, his golden-needle art might buy the True Person more time. And… and… even if it ends in tragedy, for the sake of Zhang Li, he will protect you."

Zhang Liuzhen shook his head: "No need. We only need to guard this courtyard."

"But…"

Zhang Liuzhen raised his hand to cut him off, lowering his eyes: "I've already dragged his senior and junior brothers into this mess of the Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion—how could I have the face to drag him in too?"

Zhang Ziwang pounded the ground in desperation: "Zhang Li bears the Zhang surname—she is our Zhang family's daughter. She left only because of power struggles. Everyone knows what Tao Ji wants from her—he seeks to become our Zhang family's son-in-law. Helping you is his duty—how can you speak of owing him?"

Young Master, please let me go fetch Wang Feiyin."

Zhang Liuzhen shook his head: "Not just Zhang Li."

"What?"

Zhang Liuzhen did not answer, but looked up and asked Zhang Ziwang with a wry smile: "Aren't you even curious why Father suddenly spat blood and collapsed?"

Zhang Ziwang froze; his lips moved for a long time before he whispered: "You… you just said it was because the Emperor…"

"Yes, because the Emperor," Zhang Liuzhen laughed. "Precisely because of the Emperor!"

Zhang Ziwang's heart pounded—he didn't want to know, but Zhang Liuzhen stared at him so intently he couldn't help but ask.

Zhang Ziwang stamped his foot, sat down heavily on the footstool, and turned his head away: "Just say it outright—what are you planning?"

Zhang Liuzhen murmured: "Our Zhang family pledged to the founding Emperor—once a gentleman gives his word, even four horses cannot catch it."

But to tie the lifespan of the Zhang direct heirs to a single Emperor—I refuse."

Zhang Ziwang swallowed hard: "Then what do you mean?"

"Since we're already tying to fortune, why not be generous—why not tie directly to the national fortune?"

Zhang Ziwang stared, dumbfounded.

Zhang Liuzhen turned to look at him: "Isn't that better?"

"But… but how is that different from the Emperor's fortune? If a wise ruler rises, the national fortune flourishes; if a foolish ruler rules, the national fortune dims—isn't it the same?"

"Of course it's different. The Emperor may be weak, but a strong minister may rise. The Emperor may be poor, but the nation may be rich." Zhang Liuzhen slowly clenched his fist: "I would rather perish for the national fortune than live past my prime for the fortune of a single monarch."

He was born a child of heaven—how could he die silently for one man?

For the national fortune, it might be worth a try.

"But… but…" Zhang Ziwang stammered, unable to find a single rebuttal, finally squeezing out: "How do we change it?"

Zhang Liuzhen walked to the window, gazing at the star-filled sky, imagining the dust motes of the vast universe, and smiled: "We are already changing it."

Zhang Ziwang's heart tightened; his instinct turned to the True Person lying on the bed.

Zhang Liuzhen murmured: "The national fortune is crumbling—we must try to reverse it. If we can turn the national fortune around, nothing in the world will be impossible." (End of chapter)