Chapter 191: The Emperor's Reminiscence!
The Hua family, a wealthy merchant clan of Jiangnan, also had its own fleet in Jinling City. On their return to the capital, Chu Yang and the others traveled aboard one of the Hua family's pleasure boats.
However, Hua Manlou did not accompany them. He had to return home first and inform his father about matters concerning Datong Bank.
Naturally, the Mid-Autumn Festival was a time to be spent with family—he couldn't follow Lu Xiaofeng to go join the fun.
The two parties parted ways, and Lu Xiaofeng was quite disappointed about it.
After seeing off Hua Manlou, Li Xunhuan also prepared to leave. He had returned this time only to travel and enjoy the magnificent landscapes, but was forced to Jinling by the pressure from Dragon-Guard Manor.
He would never be an official. In this lifetime, Li Xunhuan would never bind himself to the court.
With Duan Tianya and Guihai Yidao both away, it was a good opportunity for him to slip away from the villa's surveillance.
Before departing, Li Xunhuan once again reminded Chu Yang not to act impulsively, then watched as Chu Yang departed by boat.
"Master, where to next?"
"Since we're already here, let's go visit an old friend."
Tie Chuanjia looked at Li Xunhuan in surprise.
"The Prince said I was a bird in a cage—and thinking it over, he's right. There are some things I need to finally put to rest."
Normally indecisive, Li Xunhuan was uncharacteristically resolute. The demonic invasion had shaken him deeply. If not for Chu Yang's intervention, the people of the city would have faced certain doom—and he himself would likely be dead.
Such brushes with death often bring clarity. Li Xunhuan truly felt the weight of his long-standing regrets.
This time, he would give himself closure.
"And after seeing that old friend?"
"Maybe I'll head to the capital—see if Daughter Red still tastes the same."
Li Xunhuan suddenly found himself looking forward to it, though he didn't know if Chu Yang would have time to share a drink with him then.
As for what lay ahead—well, that would be dealt with in time.
Chu Yang, on his way back to the capital by boat, had no idea what Li Xunhuan was thinking. The pleasure boat sped forward, and in the blink of an eye, Jinling City became a vague silhouette on the horizon.
Standing at the highest deck, Chu Yang leaned on the railing, his fingers tapping lightly against it, eyes deep and thoughtful.
Lu Xiaofeng stood just behind him.
"Your Highness, who do you think will win—Ximen Chuixue or Ye Gucheng?"
"Of course, Ximen Chuixue."
"Oh? But Ye Gucheng's 'Heavenly Flying Immortal' is famous throughout the land. Don't you rate him?"
"What kind of formidable swordsman doesn't believe in his own blade?"
"Ye Gucheng doesn't believe in his sword? What do you mean?"
"He thinks power and schemes kill better than his Heavenly Flying Immortal. The White Cloud City Lord has descended into the mundane world—his sword heart is no longer pure."
Lu Xiaofeng was utterly confused, his brows furrowed. He couldn't make heads or tails of what Chu Yang meant, though the sense of hidden meaning behind his words gnawed at him.
Seeing this, Chu Yang smiled. Playing the enigmatic sage was rather fun—especially when it meant messing with clever men like Lu Xiaofeng.
The duel atop the Forbidden Peak was a grand conspiracy; from the very beginning, it had been a joke. Chu Yang's return to the capital was solely to witness this joke unfold.
What if…
What if Ye Gucheng actually succeeded? Wouldn't that be even more interesting?
"You like manipulating schemes, playing everyone like pawns… If, in the end, you die because of that same word—'conspiracy'—what would go through your mind as you closed your eyes?"
Chu Yang murmured softly.
Lu Xiaofeng, still lost in the fog, wanted to ask more, but Chu Yang said no more, driving him mad with curiosity.
"At dawn I departed the White Emperor beneath rosy clouds; a thousand li to Jiangling in a single day."
Five days later, the boat reached shore. They still had a stretch of land to cross before reaching the capital. For convenience, Chu Yang's group borrowed a few horses from the Hua family and chose to ride into the city.
With two days left until the Mid-Autumn Festival, they had plenty of time. So they didn't hurry, taking their time and stopping now and then, spotting many fellow martial artists along the way.
Martial sects of all kinds, flowing like a stream of carriages and horses.
No one wanted to miss the duel between the two greatest sword masters.
Whether they were greenhorns or seasoned veterans, just being a witness to this duel gave them bragging rights for years to come.
"You've heard of the Forbidden Peak, right?"
"I was there! Saw Ximen Chuixue and Ye Gucheng fight with my own eyes!"
A hundred years from now, what happened here today would be passed down by these very people.
That—was the martial world.
"With such a stir, half the martial world's shown up. Whoever loses this duel will never live it down," sighed Sikong Zhaixing.
Lu Xiaofeng stroked his beard, worried. As a friend of Ximen Chuixue, of course he didn't want him to lose. But the "White Cloud City Lord" Ye Gucheng wasn't famous for nothing—he was one of the rare grandmasters of this era.
Both were just a step away from becoming legendary sword grandmasters. Whoever won this duel would almost certainly ascend to that rank.
"Let's hope it turns out as His Highness predicted…"
Lu Xiaofeng could only comfort himself by trusting Chu Yang's judgment.
After riding for two to three hours, the three men approached the capital. Teahouses became more frequent by the roadside, catering to wandering martial artists.
Parched, Sikong Zhaixing hurried to grab a seat and gulped down tea the moment he sat.
"Pouring it down like that—you're not afraid it's poisoned?" Lu Xiaofeng said mischievously.
"With so many people drinking it, if someone dies, it won't just be me. What's to be afraid of?" Sikong Zhaixing replied carelessly.
"Smart move."
Lu Xiaofeng snatched the teapot from him, pouring a cup for Chu Yang first before filling his own.
Chu Yang raised the cup to his lips, but suddenly paused and silently set it down.
"Your Highness, is something wrong?" Lu Xiaofeng quickly brought the cup to his nose, sniffing it.
"It's not the tea. Someone's coming," Chu Yang said with a smile.
As soon as he finished, the ground beneath them trembled violently.
Rumble!
The sound of hooves thundered like a storm!
A group was galloping in their direction.
"There aren't many forces bold enough to ride like that so close to the capital…" Lu Xiaofeng seemed to already guess who they were.
Soon, two clearly opposing groups appeared outside the teahouse. Their attire was similar, their temperament alike—if not for their obvious hostility, they might have seemed a single force.
"It's the East and West Depots!"
A sharp-eyed martial artist called out their identities.
At once, all the sect members in the teahouse scrambled to get out, terrified of being associated with those two factions.
Sikong Zhaixing instinctively stood, but was pressed back down by Lu Xiaofeng.
"You out of your mind? If we don't leave now, we'll be on their radar."
"They're here for us," Sikong Zhaixing said, glancing at Chu Yang. "Oh, well, that's fine then."
Suddenly, the factory guards parted to either side, clearing a path. Two eunuchs in long cloaks slowly stepped before Chu Yang.
Their faces were proud, showing not the slightest respect. Almost in unison, they cupped their hands and said:
"I am Cao Zhengchun, Director of the East Depot—"
"I am Yu Huatian, Director of the West Depot—"
"Greetings, Your Highness."
They called it a greeting—
But neither of them even bowed.
Their cold, sharp tone revealed their blatant ambition.
Ever since Chu Yang severed the arms of their top captains, Cao Shaoqin and Ma Jinliang, their grudge had been cemented. While not mortal enemies, they were close.
Either one of them could turn hostile in the blink of an eye.
Still, Chu Yang was a prince. They didn't yet have the courage to draw blades in front of so many people. That would be defiance of imperial authority.
"Depot Directors, with all the affairs you must handle, how did you find time to come here?" Chu Yang smiled, raising his cup to them.
Cao Zhengchun and Yu Huatian exchanged glances before Cao stepped forward and cupped his hands. "We've come, of course, to invite Your Highness back to the capital."
Chu Yang chuckled. "I'm already at the outskirts of the capital—naturally I'm heading in. Do you think I'd run?"
"You needn't have troubled yourselves."
Yu Huatian said coldly, "Times have changed. If we hadn't come ourselves, His Majesty would not be at ease."
Chu Yang replied playfully, "My imperial brother is the Son of Heaven. What in this world could make him uneasy?"
Yu Huatian narrowed his eyes, one fair hand subtly resting on the hilt of his sword, his aura coalescing into a deadly pressure.
Depot intelligence repeatedly warned that Chu Yang's martial strength was unfathomable. Yu dared not take him lightly—which was why he agreed to collaborate with Cao Zhengchun.
Noting Yu's intent to strike, Chu Yang looked him over with interest and said, "Director Yu, life is short."
With that, a golden surge of Conqueror's Haki swept toward Yu Huatian.
Yu immediately felt the world spin, let out a muffled grunt, and staggered back a few steps, looking at Chu Yang with lingering fear.
His hand slipped away from the sword hilt.
Life is short.
Don't go looking for death.
Humiliated by this warning strike, Yu Huatian's expression darkened further. He cupped his hands and said, "This servant has learned his lesson."
But the murderous intent in his heart surged violently.
Cao Zhengchun shot him a strange glance, then turned to Chu Yang and said, "Your Highness, you've been away for some time. His Majesty has been terribly worried and specially sent us to escort you back for a talk. We hope you won't let him down."
"You're quite the smooth talker. No wonder my brother favors you so. Very well—if he misses me that much, I'll go see him."
Chu Yang stood up and said to Lu Xiaofeng, "You and Sikong Zhaixing wait for me at the royal manor."
Lu Xiaofeng whispered, "Wouldn't it be better if I went with you?"
Chu Yang replied, "Come during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Now's not the time for spectating."
Seeing that Chu Yang wouldn't relent, Lu Xiaofeng could only sigh.
"Please, Your Highness, the palanquin awaits."
Cao Zhengchun gave the order, and the East Depot guards lowered a sedan chair before Chu Yang, who stepped in.
No matter how tense things were, proper ceremony had to be maintained.
The East Depot guards carried the palanquin away.
Cao Zhengchun did not immediately follow. Instead, he turned to Lu Xiaofeng and Sikong Zhaixing with a proud look and warned, "You two should stay away from His Highness. Know your place—don't bring trouble on yourselves."
Lu Xiaofeng folded his arms with a grin. "Eunuch Cao, I've never been one for heeding advice. The more people tell me not to do something, the more I insist on doing it."
Cao Zhengchun sneered, "Lu Xiaofeng, your Spirit Finger Strike is useless against my Heavenly Gang Child Technique. Watch your mouth!"
But Lu Xiaofeng remained unbothered, smiling as he said, "Cao Gonggong, maybe I'm not your match. But you know what? In the martial world, what matters isn't just skill—friends are everything."
"A move I can't counter doesn't mean my friends can't."
"Is Ximen Chuixue qualified enough for you?"
Cao Zhengchun's face changed. Horizontal training techniques like his Heavenly Gang Child Technique were most vulnerable to sword masters like Ximen Chuixue.
Sword cultivators are known for their piercing sword qi that strikes at vital points with deadly precision. In contrast, experts in external martial arts rely on sheer physical resilience—an age-old contradiction between finesse and brute force.
"Let's see if he can survive Ye Gucheng's sword first before talking big!"
Cao Zhengchun sneered and turned to leave. After walking a short distance, he noticed Yu Huatian trailing at the very end of the group, seemingly waiting for him.
"Well, would you look at that—has the sun risen from the west today?"
"Lord Yu actually waited for me? Now that's a rare sight."
Yu Huatian couldn't be bothered to respond to Cao Zhengchun's sarcasm. With a serious expression, he recounted what had happened earlier.
Cao Zhengchun's face grew solemn as well.
"You're saying the Prince even knows secret spiritual techniques? Then maybe those rumors about him being a True Daoist weren't just hearsay."
"If that's true, where on earth did he learn all this? No way Guo Bujing could've raised a True Daoist."
"We'll have to send people to investigate Mount Wudang and Mount Longhu…"
About an hour later, the constables carried the sedan chair into the capital. With the two Grand Eunuchs flanking it on either side, no one dared block their path. Such an ostentatious display naturally drew attention from the masses.
On both sides of the street, patrons in teahouses and restaurants turned to look. These were mostly martial artists who had come to witness the upcoming duel, and like the common folk, they whispered among themselves.
Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, "The useless Prince is here!" and the entire street burst into laughter the next second.
Given that it was the infamous Virtuous Prince, this over-the-top parade looked more like a circus act. For over twenty years, people had grown used to associating him with farce and ridicule.
After all, this debauched Prince had done every embarrassing thing imaginable.
Only the martial artists new to the capital knew nothing about him and asked around out of curiosity—only to be met with stories that were equal parts ridiculous and unbelievable.
All in all—
No one cared what the Virtuous Prince did.
Most didn't even realize it had been over a decade since he last entered the palace.
Imperial Study.
The Emperor was reviewing memorials with a calm expression.
But the Chief Eunuch, Wei Zhongxian, standing nearby, noticed that the brush in the Emperor's hand was trembling.
His mind was clearly unsettled.
Wei Zhongxian's heart tightened with unease.
Those veteran eunuchs in the palace all knew that the Virtuous Prince was a hidden thorn in the Emperor's heart—a dormant pain that could become fatal at a critical moment.
Because, back then…
The throne was supposed to go to the Virtuous Prince.
Everyone had grown accustomed to the Virtuous Prince's current disgrace and forgotten just how brilliant he had been in his youth—so much so that the late Emperor had long ago designated him as the heir apparent.
Even Wei Zhongxian had almost forgotten.
But now, the memories came crashing back like a tidal wave.
The same was true for the Emperor.
He had almost forgotten too!
But the moment he learned that Chu Yang had been concealing his martial prowess, everything from the past came flooding back into his mind with crystal clarity.
Day and night, every hour, every moment—it all resurfaced.
"Of all the princes, only Yang'er is truly like me! Hahaha!"
And the memory froze there.
Bang!
The Emperor slammed his hand on the desk, face dark as iron. The brush in his hand snapped clean in two.
"Your Majesty, the Virtuous Prince has arrived."
"Send him in!"