Chapter 123: Aunt Xue, It’s Time to Go Home (Please Subscribe)

The Ancient Jiantan Courtyard is situated in the southern part of the Jiantan area within the Taihao Sword Sect. It stands as the most luxurious and solemn among the numerous gardens and pavilions belonging to the sect.

Being the closest to the Sword Pool itself, cultivators who practice the Dao of the Sword can vividly perceive the various sword qi and profound intents emanating from the pool, allowing their cultivation to progress with half the effort and twice the results.

The Taihao Sword Sect had spared no expense in terms of financial resources, material wealth, and manpower, transporting countless rare natural treasures to nurture the Sword Pool until it reached its current state.

Consequently, the Ancient Jiantan Courtyard, positioned nearest to the pool, was built to the absolute pinnacle of luxury.

Throughout the entire Taihao Sword Sect, only a mere handful of people were qualified to reside within the Ancient Jiantan Courtyard.

Ordinary disciples did not even possess the privilege of approaching the Sword Pool; they could only gaze at it from afar.

Upon entering the Ancient Jiantan Courtyard and passing through one pear-blossom stone archway after another, every single step revealed a new landscape. The courtyards were meticulously decorated with an abundance of flowers, plants, and trees, carved and arranged with exquisite elegance and splendor.

Here stood jagged artificial mountains, there flowed crystal-clear streams; brilliant blossoms clustered in one spot, while robust, ancient pine trees stretched out in another.

"Your Highness, this Ancient Jiantan Courtyard is the finest residence our sect has to offer. If Your Highness intends to stay within the sect for a few more days, please rest here."

Following closely by Cheng Guang's side, Ning Liang cleared the way and guided him while speaking with a smile, "Qianxue also resides within the Ancient Jiantan Courtyard. This girl rarely interacts with the outside world, and her temperament is not quite like that of the aristocratic young ladies of the capital. If she commits any discourtesies when Your Highness meets her later, I hope Your Highness will be generous and overlook them."

With a gentle smile on his face, Cheng Guang shook his head slightly at these words and replied in a soft voice, "It is of no consequence."

As he spoke, Cheng Guang took in the magnificent scenery of the Ancient Jiantan Courtyard along the way.

Aside from Cheng Guang's entourage, there were virtually no other figures in this ancient courtyard. Those who occasionally passed by were mostly maidservants and attendants.

They invariably kept their eyes straight ahead, walking swiftly with lowered heads, not daring to look around.

After passing through several stone archways carved with delicate and intricate patterns, they finally arrived in front of a building.

This structure was a bamboo cottage nestled within the ancient courtyard, situated beside a grove of lush green bamboos. Standing near this cabin, one could clearly hear the sound of flowing water from the Sword Pool.

It could well be said to be the core area of the entire Ancient Jiantan Courtyard.

"Your Highness, please enter."

Ning Liang pushed open the door of the bamboo cottage and stepped aside to invite Cheng Guang inside.

Leading only Qingluan behind him, Cheng Guang slowly walked into the bamboo cottage.

Inside, there was no superfluous decoration. The wooden shelves against the surrounding walls held a few purple-cyan treasured swords, and several tea sets rested on a sandalwood table.

The owner of this cottage seemed to have known that a guest would arrive today, as tea had already been freshly brewed.

It was merely uncertain whether the host had brewed it personally or had instructed the servants to do so.

Cheng Guang's gaze fell upon the teapot.

The freshly brewed tea emitted curling wisps of white steam from the spout of the pot.

Within this bamboo cottage, illuminated by the glow of the setting twilight sun, it added an extra touch of aesthetic beauty.

"Please be seated, Your Highness."

Ning Liang smiled as he invited Cheng Guang to take a seat, then said, "If Your Highness intended to leave immediately today after the wedding procession, we would have had to follow formal etiquette. But now that Your Highness will be staying in the sect for a while, such formalities are hardly necessary."

"I will go and have her come out to meet Your Highness."

With these words, Ning Liang hurried toward the inner chambers.

Clearly, the "her" in Ning Liang's mind was none other than the target of this marriage alliance with Cheng Guang—Ning Qianxue, the contemporary Goddess of the Taihao Sword Sect.

Cheng Guang smiled and nodded, saying nothing more.

"Your Highness, the foundation of this Taihao Sword Sect is truly impressive. Along the way just now, I encountered quite a few people who, despite their young age, have already reached the fifth or sixth rank in cultivation."

"If the Taihao Sword Sect were not a secluded sect and recruited disciples openly from the Great Zhou Dynasty, I fear the sect's mountain gates would be trampled flat."

As Qingluan picked up the teapot on the table to pour tea for Cheng Guang, she spoke in a soft voice, her tone still tinged with a hint of astonishment.

Cheng Guang nodded slightly, picked up his teacup, and took a gentle sip.

Qingluan was right; the foundation of the Taihao Sword Sect was indeed formidable. If they were to recruit disciples from across the entire dynasty, it would undoubtedly become a world-shaking event.

However, the Taihao Sword Sect had not done so.

Strictly speaking, rather than calling it a conventional sect, the Taihao Sword Sect was more akin to an aristocratic clan bound by bloodlines.

Everyone within the Taihao Sword Sect was related by blood to a greater or lesser degree.

Precisely because of this, the Taihao Sword Sect was the most united existence among the four major sword sects.

It possessed a fundamental difference from the other three major sword sects.

Just as Cheng Guang was deep in thought, a commotion came from the inner chambers.

Then, Ning Liang walked out slowly, accompanied by a woman dressed in white. He wore a smile on his face, looking thoroughly delighted.

The woman in white possessed a pure aura, a slender and graceful figure, skin as white as snow, a waist as slender as a silk ribbon, teeth like neatly aligned pearls, and eyebrows and eyes carrying a trace of mischievous playfulness.

As soon as she stepped into the room, her gaze subconsciously fell upon Cheng Guang.

Her bright eyes blinked continuously, as if she had discovered some fascinating existence, and she kept sizing him up.

Noticing the white-clad maiden's gaze, Cheng Guang gave her a faint smile and nodded slightly.

"Your Highness, this is my daughter, Ning Qianxue."

Knowing this was Cheng Guang and Ning Qianxue's first meeting, Ning Liang smiled and introduced her to Cheng Guang.

Having said that, Ning Liang shifted his gaze to Ning Qianxue and said, "And this is the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo."

After finishing his introduction, Ning Liang smiled and said, "Your Highness, Qianxue, you two young people get to know each other. I won't stay here to get in the way. If Your Highness wishes to leave later, just let someone notify me, and I will personally see Your Highness off properly at that time."

With those words, Ning Liang left the room along with his entourage.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Qingluan also followed Ning Liang out of the bamboo cottage.

Before long, only Ning Qianxue and Cheng Guang remained in the room.

Ning Qianxue stood gracefully with her hands behind her back, quietly examining Cheng Guang.

Suddenly, her red lips curved slightly, her eyebrows formed crescent moons, and her clear eyes shimmered.

"Granny really didn't lie to me. You really are quite handsome, Your Highness."

There was neither the fear and respect naturally displayed by others when facing Cheng Guang, nor the slight arrogance and disdain born of a lofty status in Ning Qianxue's tone and demeanor.

Furthermore, Ning Qianxue seemed to be the type to warm up to people instantly, and there was hardly any awkwardness or estrangement between them.

However, focusing entirely on one's appearance right from the start—wasn't that a bit unusual?

Could it be that Ning Qianxue was a superficial person obsessed with looks?

Cheng Guang could neither laugh nor cry.

"You are not bad either."

Cheng Guang gave a polite reply, then picked up his teacup to take a sip of tea, shifting his gaze away from Ning Qianxue to look out the window.

Tilting her head, Ning Qianxue looked at Cheng Guang and suddenly seemed to remember something. She asked, "Right, Your Highness, aren't you supposed to take me back to the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion to get married today?"

"Why did I hear my father say that you aren't leaving anymore?"

Cheng Guang shook his head.

"Something came up, so it has to be delayed for a while."

Cheng Guang did not offer an elaborate explanation.

Ning Qianxue gave a vague "Oh," and lacking a topic of conversation, she quieted down, sitting beside Cheng Guang, resting her chin in her hands, and looking around out of boredom.

After another moment, Ning Qianxue asked, "Oh, right, Your Highness. Granny told me that once we are married, I will be a person of the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion. Does that mean I won't be able to return to the Sword Sect in the future?"

"No, you can return."

Ning Qianxue nodded slightly, resting her chin in her hands once more as she looked up and down at Cheng Guang. "Your Highness, is there anything interesting outside the window?"

"I've looked at the scenery here for many years, and I'm long since bored of it."

Standing up, Ning Qianxue followed Cheng Guang's line of sight and looked into the distance.

Cheng Guang smiled and said, "It's nothing, I'm just pondering some matters."

At this moment, Cheng Guang had effectively become a conversation killer, leaving Ning Qianxue wanting to speak yet unable to smoothly sustain a dialogue with him.

She furrowed her brows in hesitation.

Judging by her appearance, she seemed like a little chatterbox who had not yet fully matured.

A mature chatterbox never needed the other person to respond; they could talk to themselves for hours on end without getting tired.

Gazing toward the direction of the capital, Cheng Guang waited for movement to emerge from there, paying little more attention to Ning Qianxue.

Meanwhile, sitting to the side and hesitating for a long time upon realizing she didn't know what to talk about with the Heir Apparent, Ning Qianxue simply sat down cross-legged right where she was and began to cultivate.

Noticing the movement beside him, Cheng Guang pulled his gaze back from the window and was slightly startled to see that Ning Qianxue had already begun cultivating.

The aura radiating from Ning Qianxue...

She was already close to the eighth rank, wasn't she?

The Dao of the Sword and the Martial Dao were fundamentally similar, belonging to the same branch of martial cultivation, so their realm divisions and names were identical.

In other words, Ning Qianxue was now a powerhouse of the Rebirth Realm.

Just how old was Ning Qianxue?

Wasn't she older than him?

She was even a few years younger than him, yet she was already a powerhouse of the Rebirth Realm?

Ordinary spiritual Dao cultivators didn't cultivate at such a blistering pace, did they?

Cheng Guang was suddenly struck with astonishment. Without even realizing it, Ning Qianxue had quietly shown off right in front of him.

Contemplating this as he looked at her, Cheng Guang suddenly realized that the reason Ning Qianxue's cultivation base was so high was likely because, in her daily life, she had nothing else to do aside from cultivating.

She had lived in seclusion within this ancient courtyard all along.

Throughout the vast Ancient Jiantan Courtyard, aside from a few respectful servants, very few outsiders ever walked about.

Ning Qianxue could practically be said to have no friends.

It was not easy for her to converse with others on ordinary days.

Perhaps precisely because of this, she had wanted to talk and converse with him.

Thinking of this, Cheng Guang suddenly felt a pang of guilt, wondering if he shouldn't have treated Ning Qianxue so coldly just now.

In addition, Cheng Guang also noticed that Ning Qianxue did not seem to truly understand the actual meaning of marriage.

The higher-ups of the Taihao Sword Sect arranged this marriage alliance with him, and she had agreed immediately without a second thought.

She wasn't worried about whether he was a good person.

Nor was she worried about what kind of impact it would have on her after marriage.

Instead, she was primarily concerned with whether he was handsome.

Thinking of this once more, Cheng Guang could neither laugh nor cry.

Although this was his first time meeting Ning Qianxue, the actions she displayed couldn't help but make him smile.

After watching Ning Qianxue cultivate for a while, Cheng Guang withdrew his gaze from her.

With her working this hard, it was no wonder her cultivation base was high.

Unlike him, who was such an idle slacker.

Muttering inwardly, Cheng Guang let his gaze fall back out the window.

Pondering for a moment, he figured that by now, Zhao晋 (Zhao Jin) should have already arrived in the capital and spread the news.

He had no intention of notifying Cheng Zhihai in advance that he was actually fine.

Firstly, telling him would serve little purpose; with Cheng Zhihai's rigid and inflexible personality, he was utterly incapable of acting out a ruse.

Anyone with discerning eyes could tell at a glance whether Cheng Zhihai was faking it.

It would never fool the Emperor of Great Zhou.

Secondly, as long as Cheng Zhihai received the news and came to investigate near Tianmen Mountain, he would naturally discover that he was completely unharmed.

Nor did Cheng Guang intend to hide.

His strategy was to bet that the Emperor of Great Zhou would believe what Zhao Jin said, eliminating the need to expend effort on hiding away.

Thinking of this, Cheng Guang rubbed his chin. Come to think of it, now that he was residing within the Taihao Sword Sect, short of the Emperor of Great Zhou arriving in person, no one else possessed the strength to force their way in.

His safe entry into the Taihao Sword Sect was known to no one else besides Zhao Jin, who had just departed.

And the people of the Taihao Sword Sect never left their mountain gates; it was unlikely they would leak his whereabouts.

In a sense, this could be considered a form of hiding.

He was hiding, but not hiding very deeply.

Hidden, yet essentially in plain sight.

......

Great Zhou Capital.

In the back palace of the imperial grounds, the exquisite attic palaces were paved with golden glazed tiles, glistening brilliantly under the setting sun.

The imperial bedchamber was surrounded by magnificent gardens planted with all sorts of exotic flowers and rare grasses. Fragrant throughout all four seasons, the air was filled with floral scents.

The gardens also featured artificial mountains, flowing streams, pavilions, and other landscapes, resembling a mortal fairyland.

The Emperor of Great Zhou sat in a garden pavilion. His traditionally majestic and icy expression softened slightly as he looked at the young woman in the pavilion, a hint of tenderness welling up in the depths of his eyes.

The young woman in the pavilion was dressed in flowing gauze skirts wrapped in tight silk, revealing an exquisite and alluring figure.

A blue butterfly bustier covered her fair skin, translucent inverted-drop earrings hung down, and the black hair spilling over her shoulders was secured with a blood-red bellflower hairpin.

Sitting in the pavilion, Wu Ling exhaled like orchid fragrance, seemingly executing some cultivation technique as the vital Qi of heaven and earth swirled around her body.

With every breath she took, there was a certain special rhythm.

Between Wu Ling's eyebrows, a speck of primordial spirit light flickered slowly. Looking closely, one could discern the miniature form of a human figure within that speck of primordial spirit light.

That miniature figure was quite delicate, dressed in magnificent robes and possessing a stunning appearance. It was the spitting image of Wu Ling, with eyebrows and eyes carrying a slightly lively expression.

A moment later, Wu Ling slowly exhaled a breath of clear air, opened her bright eyes, and a trace of pleasant surprise flickered within them.

"Imperial Father, I've broken through again."

"The seventh rank of the Spiritual Dao, the Void-Realization Realm—it truly feels completely different from all the other realms."

As Wu Ling spoke, she extended a hand, and her jade-white fingertip pointed gently. A speck of golden light flowed from her fingertip, and the mere appearance of that golden light immediately drew upon the vital Qi of heaven and earth.

A gale arose.

The blooming flowers in the garden swayed endlessly, their petals detached and dancing with the wind.

The Emperor of Great Zhou nodded slightly, his majestic and stern expression overflowing with a look of satisfaction. At the same time, deep within his eyes, a trace of astonishment lingered.

How long had it been since Wu Ling began cultivating?

Barely over a few months.

Yet she had already advanced her spiritual cultivation to the seventh rank of the Void-Realization Realm.

Perhaps before long, Wu Ling could ascend to the eighth rank of the Great World Realm.

With a bit more effort, there was even a chance she could break through to the Celestial Realm before turning thirty.

Becoming the youngest Celestial in the history of Great Zhou.

The mere thought of this made the Emperor of Great Zhou's breathing quicken slightly, though his surface expression remained entirely calm.

"Wu Ling, well done. Your cultivation realm is advancing faster than mine did back then."

"In a while, you should go and spend some time in the Blood Pool again."

"Any increase in bloodline concentration is a good thing."

Upon hearing these words from the Emperor of Great Zhou, Wu Ling's pretty face instantly fell into a bitter expression, and she said with considerable helplessness, "Imperial Father, I've already entered the Blood Pool many times these past few days. It's practically like soaking in this blood pool every single day; there really is no need for me to go in again."

"Let someone else go."

Hearing Wu Ling's words, the Emperor of Great Zhou furrowed his brow slightly, a trace of helplessness involuntarily rising in his heart.

The Blood Pool, which countless imperial clan members and princes and princesses of Great Zhou yearned for day and night yet could never attain, was actually being disdained by Wu Ling.

If others were to hear these words, how would they feel?

The Emperor of Great Zhou coughed, his lips parting as he was about to speak, when a sharp piercing sound suddenly entered his ears from afar.

The Emperor of Great Zhou and Wu Ling raised their eyes simultaneously to look into the distance.

They saw a stream of rainbow light streaking across the vault of heaven from the distant sky.

Within just a few breaths, it landed right before the Emperor of Great Zhou and Wu Ling.

As the rainbow light touched the ground, the figure of Zhao Jin was revealed.

Panting heavily, Zhao Jin landed before the Emperor of Great Zhou and immediately bowed respectfully.

"Your Majesty."

After uttering this, Zhao Jin bowed once more to Wu Ling.

"Crown Princess."

The Emperor of Great Zhou waved his hand, signaling that Zhao Jin need not stand on ceremony, then looked at him and asked, "How did it go?"

Knowing what the Emperor of Great Zhou was asking, Zhao Jin was just about to speak when his gaze fell upon Wu Ling beside them, and he hesitated slightly.

The Emperor of Great Zhou smiled and said, "It's fine."

Catching his breath, Zhao Jin nodded slightly to the Emperor of Great Zhou, "Your Majesty, the Heir Apparent has been dealt with."

Upon hearing Zhao Jin's words, the Emperor of Great Zhou first furrowed his brow, then relaxed it, his tone becoming much more relaxed.

"Are you certain no lingering troubles were left behind?"

The Emperor of Great Zhou asked once more.

Internally, Zhao Jin felt rather awkward. It wasn't a matter of leaving behind *some* lingering troubles; he had left behind a whole bunch of them.

Though chaotic thoughts churned within his mind, Zhao Jin maintained a respectful expression on the outside without revealing much emotion.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Emperor of Great Zhou smiled, stood up, and patted Zhao Jin on the shoulder, saying:

"Well done. From now on, Zhao Jin, act as if nothing has happened at all. If you acted clumsily and left behind any troubles, don't blame Us for showing no mercy."

Tense all over, Zhao Jin listened to the Emperor of Great Zhou's slightly smiling words, yet felt not a shred of relaxation within; instead, he felt profoundly weighed down.

Beads of sweat as large as soybeans oozed from his forehead, rolling down his cheeks.

Though the pressure in Zhao Jin's heart was immense, his expression remained respectful as he hastily acknowledged the order.

Glancing at Zhao Jin and knowing how heavy the pressure on him was, the Emperor of Great Zhou didn't dwell on it and waved his hand, dismissing him.

Hastily acknowledging the command and bowing once more, Zhao Jin flashed away, disappearing from the spot as if fleeing for his life.

After Zhao Jin's figure vanished:

Sitting in the pavilion, Wu Ling seemed only just to have reacted, looking blankly at her own imperial father with bright eyes.

"Imperial Father, what you and Zhao Jin just said—about the Heir Apparent being dealt with—what does that mean?"

Raising the cup of cold tea on the ancient table, the Emperor of Great Zhou took an unhurried sip, looked at Wu Ling, and said in a placid tone:

"It means precisely what it sounds like."

"Someone was standing in the way, so they were eliminated."

"Wu Ling, you must remember, an emperor cannot have personal sentiments. The interests of the dynasty and the imperial clan are paramount. As long as you can achieve these two points, everything else can be disregarded."

Listening to the Emperor of Great Zhou's words, Wu Ling furrowed her pretty brows, still finding it hard to believe.

Pouting her red lips, she asked again,

"Imperial Father, the Heir Apparent you mentioned... could it be... could it be the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo..."

Gazing at Wu Ling and seeing her tense expression, the Emperor of Great Zhou's majestic and stern visage grew even more solemn.

He knew that Wu Ling held somewhat unique feelings toward the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo.

Though the two had not spent much time together, Cheng Guang, the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo, had left a deep impression in Wu Ling's heart.

There had once been a moment when he even considered having Wu Ling enter a marriage alliance with the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo.

However, the Duke of Zhenguo clearly had no desire to do so.

To prevent descendants of the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion from having their imperial bloodline extracted again and reduced to people incapable of cultivation, the Duke was unwilling to enter into another marriage alliance with the imperial family and become bound to them.

Remembering this, the Emperor of Great Zhou couldn't help letting out a sigh. If the Duke of Zhenguo and Cheng Zhihai had agreed at the time to let Wu Ling marry Cheng Guang, things would never have reached this point.

The Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion would have lost its succession.

And he could have rested completely at ease.

In the future, when Wu Ling ascended the throne as Empress, the Heir Apparent Cheng Guang and his descendants could still have lived securely within Great Zhou.

Yet things had turned out this way.

Everything was simply the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion bringing this upon themselves.

Gazing at Wu Ling for a few moments, the Emperor of Great Zhou chose not to answer her question directly, instead stating:

"Don't let your imagination run wild. These matters have nothing to do with you for now. Your most important task right now is to seize the time to elevate your cultivation and inherit Our Great Zhou imperial throne in the future."

With those words, the Emperor of Great Zhou stood up and walked away slowly.

Left sitting frozen in place, Wu Ling stared blankly at her majestic and icy imperial father, then recalled the noble young gentleman who had sat in the pavilion with her during her most helpless moments.

For some reason, Wu Ling suddenly felt a surge of sourness welling up at the bridge of her nose.

The view before her eyes grew blurred without her knowing when.

"How could this be? Why would Imperial Father do such a thing?"

Evening was drawing in.

Her seventh-rank cultivation seemed unable to bring Wu Ling any warmth.

Curling up her body helplessly in the pavilion, her bright eyes lost their focus.

Scene after scene of her time spent with Cheng Guang echoed in her mind.

"Wu Ling, have you ever practiced cultivation on ordinary days?"

"Wu Ling, would you be willing to spar with me?"

"Wu Ling, your strength is too weak. I'm afraid using my full power will hurt you."

"Wu Ling, I'll teach you a brand-new game. This is Gomoku, where you line up five pieces in a row..."

Deep within her mind, Cheng Guang's past words echoed uncontrollably.

The final image that appeared in Wu Ling's mind was the sight of Cheng Guang during the recent imperial ancestral ceremony, dressed in the uniform of the Bureau of Lanterns, standing tall and upright, looking spirited and radiant.

Perhaps Cheng Guang was her only friend.

Perhaps Cheng Guang was the first person capable of accompanying her in play.

Perhaps Cheng Guang was the first person to show her goodwill.

Regardless of the reason, Wu Ling simply felt like crying at this moment.

Why did her imperial father have to order Zhao Jin to kill the Heir Apparent?

Why?

She had even wanted to find the Heir Apparent to play again once her cultivation improved and her imperial father allowed her to leave the palace.

She had even worried that once the Heir Apparent got married and had a wife, he wouldn't pay attention to her anymore.

But why...

Why was the Heir Apparent treated this way by her imperial father?

Wu Ling couldn't figure it out, and she was powerless to change it. At this moment, she felt as though she had been abandoned by the entire world once again.

She had returned to those sunless days of her childhood outside the imperial palace, scrambling for scraps with a pack of beggars.

Wu Ling stayed in the pavilion for the entire night.

Dark, heavy circles of fatigue ringed her bright eyes.

As dawn began to break, the figure of the Emperor of Great Zhou abruptly materialized beside Wu Ling. Looking at her condition, he felt a sense of exasperation and helplessness at her refusal to pull herself together.

In his eyes, Wu Ling was already the Crown Princess and the future ruler of the entire Great Zhou Dynasty.

How could she be so swayed by emotion?

And this was before anything substantial had happened or excessive contact had been made with that Heir Apparent Cheng Guang.

If they had interacted any further,

what would have become of her by now?

Eager to reprimand Wu Ling, the Emperor of Great Zhou remembered that his relationship with her was already less than stellar, and they had only recently managed to ease it slightly before this whole mess occurred.

If he were to scold Wu Ling further, he shuddered to think how she might treat him afterward.

Silently pausing for a moment, the Emperor of Great Zhou spoke: "All right, go cultivate. The Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion from here on... perhaps the entire Great Zhou won't be entirely peaceful. I don't have time to accompany you in your cultivation; go to the Blood Pool on your own when you have time."

With those words, the Emperor of Great Zhou vanished once more.

After the Emperor of Great Zhou disappeared, several nervous-looking palace maids slowly approached not far from Wu Ling. Unaware of what had transpired, they cautiously probed:

"Your Highness, shall we go and bathe and change clothes now?"

As the maid's voice trailed off, Wu Ling made no response.

A moment later, just as the maids exchanged glances, intending to retreat, Wu Ling suddenly stood up, wiped her eyes fiercely with her cyan-flower sleeve, and hurried toward the Blood Pool.

"No need to bathe. I'm going to cultivate."

Wu Ling's expression was clear, and her tone lacked its previous weakness, carrying instead the aura of someone in a position of authority.

Striding away swiftly, her figure quickly vanished.

Left behind in the same spot, the group of palace maids exchanged bewildered glances, failing to comprehend the situation.

"Didn't the Crown Princess hate cultivation and refuse to go to the Blood Pool just before?"

"Why is she proactively going today?"

"Could she have been forced by His Majesty?"

Whispering among themselves for a moment, the maids dared not discuss it further. Lowering their heads, they hurried to follow in Wu Ling's footsteps.

......

The Great Zhou capital had not been entirely peaceful over the past two days.

The Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo had gone to the Taihao Sword Sect to fetch his bride and had been gone for two days without returning.

Originally, a two-day absence was nothing unusual.

Perhaps some unexpected delay had occurred on the road.

Yet somehow, rumors began to quietly circulate from unknown origins, claiming that the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo had been assassinated by a powerful expert and had lost his life.

The moment this news broke, it instantly stirred up huge ripples throughout the capital.

Yet it was swiftly suppressed by individuals with ulterior motives.

Even so, similar news and speculations continued to circulate covertly in various corners of the capital.

Inside a teahouse in the capital, a storyteller spoke mysteriously to the audience below the stage:

"Lords and ladies, do you know who assassinated the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo?"

When the storyteller brought this up, the audience below instantly perked up, their eyes widening as they repeatedly asked who it was.

With a smile, the storyteller took a sip of tea and slowly continued:

"It is said that someone witnessed it at the time."

"It seemed to be someone from the Great Yuan, stepping upon a flying eagle and charging onto the Heir Apparent's vessel. It appeared to be a Celestial being—with just a wave of a palm, heaven and earth lost their color in an instant, wind and clouds shifted, and the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo was beaten into dust!"

"I can only say it was utterly terrifying!"

At these words, an outcry of astonishment erupted from the crowd below.

"It actually turned out to be someone from the Great Yuan?"

"Hiss, come to think of it, that's entirely possible. Within the borders of Great Zhou, who else possesses such strength to assassinate the Heir Apparent? It could only be people from the other dynasties."

"The Heir Apparent died a truly miserable death. I bet he didn't even have a single chance to resist over there."

The crowd discussed it animatedly.

Someone else, however, offered a different perspective.

"As of now, the Heir Apparent's body hasn't even been found. Who's to say he didn't have some life-saving trump card and survived?"

Yet someone else quickly refuted this.

"The Heir Apparent was already beaten into powder; how could he possibly be found?! Besides, the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion hasn't made a single peep right now, nor have they issued any news that the Heir Apparent is safe and sound. It seems likely that something really happened to him!"

"Alas, how pitiable. The dignified Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo—a figure we commoners could never hope to touch in a lifetime—was actually assassinated. Even the nobles have their own hardships."

"Hah, you poor scholar, you're someone who tries to buy flower wine on credit even on ordinary days, yet you're actually sitting here pitying a figure like the Heir Apparent. Truly, you're plucking radishes out of worry for an empty field."

The face of the mocked scholar flushed slightly as he reached out to clutch the patched green cloth robe on his body, stammering: "How can a scholar be accused of buying on credit? I simply wanted to trade my literary talent for a night of romance. When they were unwilling, I told them I would write them a better poem next time."

No one paid any mind to the scholar's sophistry.

The air was filled with a joyous atmosphere.

In no time at all, the news of the Heir Apparent of the Duke of Zhenguo's survival—or rather, his demise—was cast to the back of everyone's minds.

No one cared to pursue it further.

It was merely post-meal gossip for ordinary folks.

Meanwhile, down below among the audience, a group of passing noblewomen had entered laughing and talking, intending to drink tea and listen to some storytelling. Hearing the words spoken by the storyteller on stage, their footsteps suddenly faltered.

"What is that storyteller talking about? What's this about the Heir Apparent being assassinated?"

Wu Yuemei had originally planned to go out and stroll around with several close friends today, but once she stepped outside, she noticed that all her companions wore strange expressions.

No matter what she asked them,

they would instead hint darkly and openly for her to not worry and keep an open mind.

At first, Wu Yuemei couldn't make sense of it and asked whether something had happened, but the other noblewomen merely laughed it off, refusing to say another word.

That only made Wu Yuemei even more baffled.

She figured her close friends must be hiding something from her.

Not wanting to press too hard, she put it out of her mind.

Passing by this teahouse and seeing it so lively, she had suggested coming up to book a private box to drink tea and listen to the storytelling.

Yet.

Wu Yuemei never expected that the moment she arrived at the teahouse, she would hear such talk of the Heir Apparent being assassinated.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Wu Yuemei stood frozen as if struck by lightning.

When she finally snapped out of it, Wu Yuemei hurried to ask the noblewomen beside her:

"Yuexin, Xunyao, do you know something? Is the Heir Apparent the storyteller mentioned... could it be my son?"

Wu Yuemei's hands were tightly clasped together, her knuckles turning pale.

The noblewomen looked even more troubled by Wu Yuemei's questioning, having no idea how to reply.

Along the way, they had tried their best to avoid areas dense with casual gossip. Having accidentally passed by this teahouse, they had thought nothing of it, never imagining they would run straight into a storyteller discussing the Heir Apparent.

While feeling helpless, they instantly felt a surge of anger toward the storyteller on stage.

Yet dealing with the storyteller was secondary right now.

How were they supposed to handle Wu Yuemei?

These high-ranking, powerful noblewomen of the capital once again found themselves unable to speak.

Xueyi, who followed beside Wu Yuemei, couldn't bear it any longer. She tugged at Wu Yuemei's sleeve and said, "My Lady, let's go back. These people are probably just talking nonsense..."

Wu Yuemei violently shook off Xueyi's arm.

Caught off guard, Xueyi tumbled to the ground.

Seeing Xueyi fall, Wu Yuemei felt a twinge of remorse. Though nominally a servant, they were akin to sisters; without hesitation, she stepped forward to help Xueyi up.

Yet her expression quickly turned cold.

"What on earth are you all hiding from me?"

"What does what that storyteller said mean?"

"Is the Heir Apparent he spoke of... my Guang'er?"

Wu Yuemei's voice fell silent.

The lips of several noblewomen parted slightly, their ornate faces exchanging glances as each wished the other would speak, yet not a single one was willing to step forward.

Taking a deep breath, Wu Yuemei said, "Fine, if you won't tell me, I'll ask myself."

With that, Wu Yuemei lifted her skirts, preparing to storm the stage and drag the storyteller down.

Only at this moment did Wu Yuemei reveal a trace of her spoiled princess demeanor from days past.

Before the noblewomen could react,

Xueyi hurriedly grabbed Wu Yuemei, pleading, "My Lady, let's go back. I wasn't deliberately hiding it from you."

"It's just that right now, there is no news of the Heir Apparent. These storytellers are just talking nonsense. If His Majesty didn't oppose literary inquisitions, these people would have lost their heads ages ago for daring to discuss the Heir Apparent; they wouldn't dare chatter like this now."

Wu Yuemei's body stiffened slightly. Slowly turning her head with trembling eyes, she stared fixedly at Xueyi.

She had already understood Xueyi's words.

Xueyi was essentially confirming it.

The Heir Apparent in the storyteller's words was indeed her Guang'er.

And in that person's words, Guang'er had...

Been assassinated and passed away??

The mere thought made Wu Yuemei feel as though the sky and earth were spinning, and her legs nearly failed to support her.

"My Lady."

Xueyi hurried forward.

Shaking her head, Wu Yuemei gestured for Xueyi to let go, then cast her gaze toward the surrounding noblewomen.

Before she could speak, they hastened to comfort her:

"Yuemei, I'm sure it's nothing. How many guards does the Heir Apparent have by his side? Outsiders couldn't possibly assassinate him so easily."

"That's right, the Heir Apparent is so capable. All those matters regarding commemorating the Crown Prince previously—those were all done by the Heir Apparent."

"We don't need to worry. Nothing has been confirmed yet, and even his body hasn't been found. Perhaps he's completely fine right now."

Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, Wu Yuemei didn't appear overly grief-stricken; on the contrary, she looked remarkably calm.

"You don't need to comfort me, I'm fine."

Glancing at the noblewomen, Wu Yuemei lost all interest in continuing her stroll and headed down the street to make her way back home.

"Xueyi, let's go home."

Startled for a moment, Xueyi bowed slightly to the noblewomen before quickly chasing after Wu Yuemei's footsteps as they headed toward the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion.

Along the way.

Xueyi kept observing her mistress's state.

There was still no news of the Heir Apparent.

While it was technically possible that he was still alive,

anyone with discerning eyes could tell.

The Heir Apparent had very likely met with foul play.

At present, the Head of the Household had been barred by the Emperor under some pretext from leaving the capital, preventing him from going out to investigate whether the Heir Apparent had truly met with disaster or tracking down the assassin.

Everyone was shrouded in a fog of uncertainty.

The Head didn't know why His Majesty was doing this, but he had no choice but to obey orders.

At the same time, he hadn't wanted this news to reach Wu Yuemei's ears.

He had instructed her to be extra careful.

Yet the secret hadn't even held for a single day before being exposed.

Sighing inwardly, Xueyi felt just as distressed and saddened upon learning the news.

Yet she also knew that her mistress would undoubtedly be a hundred or ten thousand times more sorrowful than she was.

Xueyi had expected Wu Yuemei to weep uncontrollably and break down in loud sobs at this moment.

Instead, she discovered that Wu Yuemei did not display excessive grief; aside from an unmistakable trace of fatigue lingering in the corners of her eyes,

she showed no major difference compared to her normal self.

This was completely abnormal.

Xueyi knew this wasn't how her mistress would normally react to such a crisis.

Could it be that the mistress knew the Heir Apparent hadn't actually met with disaster, and thus wasn't sad at all?

Xueyi pondered silently.

Remaining mutually silent, the two of them returned all the way to the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion.

Upon entering the courtyard,

Wu Yuemei sat down at a table. Xueyi hurriedly brewed tea for her, bringing a cup of fragrant, clear liquid and presenting it before Wu Yuemei.

"My Lady, have some tea to calm your nerves."

Nodding slightly, Wu Yuemei accepted the teacup, then raised her eyes to look at Xueyi and asked, "Where is Cheng Zhihai?"

Startled once more, Xueyi stared at her.

Wu Yuemei rarely addressed Cheng Zhihai by his given name, and even when she did, she had never been this calm.

Tightening inwardly, Xueyi quickly answered, "The Head of the Household is still at the Bureau of Lanterns. Since he's not permitted to leave the capital, he's ordered Qian Siyuan and Li Zhengyang to lead people out in search of the Heir Apparent."

Hearing this, Wu Yuemei nodded slightly again, rubbing her temples as if struck by a headache.

Stepping forward, Xueyi gently began to massage Wu Yuemei's temples.

After a prolonged silence,

Wu Yuemei suddenly broke it with a question.

"Xueyi, tell me... is it true that Guang'er is gone?"

"Is my Guang'er really... gone?"

Wu Yuemei's tone remained calm, devoid of much fluctuation.

Yet it made Xueyi's heart tremble.

"My Lady, of course not. The Heir Apparent is blessed with great fortune and won't come to harm. The reason he hasn't returned yet is probably just because he's been delayed by some matters."

Nodding slightly, Wu Yuemei said, "Perhaps that's the case."

"Guang'er has always loved to play around. It's quite normal for him to get delayed by something interesting and not return right away."

"It's just that this time he went out to fetch his bride; he shouldn't be wandering off idly on the way back. Once he returns, I'm going to give him a proper scolding."

As she spoke, Wu Yuemei pressed a hand against her forehead, lowering her eyelids.

Her voice grew weaker and weaker.

Xueyi, who was gently massaging her temples, suddenly felt a wet, cool sensation brush against her fingertips.

Lowering her gaze, she saw it.

Tears, crystal-clear, had welled up in the corners of Wu Yuemei's eyes, sliding down to fall upon her fingers.

"My Lady..." Xueyi's heart skipped a beat.

Seeming to notice something, Wu Yuemei hastily wiped away her tears and forced a smile. "Ah, Xueyi, why am I crying? It's nothing."

"Right, Guang'er will be back to get married soon. I need to go tidy up his wedding chamber, and prepare all the wedding details one by one. I've been so busy lately."

As she continued,

Wu Yuemei's emotions began to fracture.

"So busy..."

Her red lips trembled slightly, leaving her unable to finish her sentence.

Xueyi's expression shifted profoundly.

She wanted to say something comforting, like the Heir Apparent would be fine, but she herself could no longer bear to deceive her mistress any longer.

How...

How could things have turned out this way?

The Heir Apparent was doing perfectly fine; why had disaster struck him?

Who on earth could have assassinated the Heir Apparent?

Xueyi could not fathom it.

......

(End of this chapter)