Chapter 58: The Beggar

Cheng Guang left the Library Pavilion, unaware that Elder Yan De was watching him intently from behind.

After departing from the Pavilion, Cheng Guang returned to the Myriad Phenomena Garden with the book in hand.

In the small courtyard, Cheng Guang sat upright at the stone table, turning the pages of the book Yan De had just given him, illuminated by sunlight.

The book’s cover bore no words; only upon opening it did he find a first page filled with chaotic scrawls. It seemed less a proper treatise on cultivation and more like a collection of random thoughts, an experimental record.

Cheng Guang read silently.

The book was not thick—just over a hundred pages. With his current memory, it took but a quarter of an hour to finish, committing every detail to heart.

It was indeed an experimental notebook.

An unnamed peerless master had abducted royal heirs, experimenting with various methods to extract royal bloodlines and integrate them into his own body.

The notes offered scant detail on the extraction process, as the author deemed it the least technical aspect. Instead, the bulk of the writing focused on the intricacies of merging royal bloodlines.

Clearly, the presence of this notebook within the Library Pavilion of the Duke’s estate meant the master had failed to integrate the royal blood. Perhaps, he had already become a smudge of ashes in a sealed casket.

Cheng Guang surmised the reason such books were collected in the Pavilion was that the Duke had begun planning, long ago, to seize the bloodlines of other royal heirs for the sake of his own.

Though the Duke’s scheme did not succeed, neither did it utterly fail.

The true heir, after absorbing Cheng Guang’s bloodline, did not die—merely suffered damage to his body’s origin.

Cheng Guang felt a strange pang of emotion.

Once, the Duke collected these books to steal Cheng Guang’s bloodline; now, Cheng Guang leafed through them to reclaim what was his.

He himself felt little attachment to his former bloodline; whether he merged with it or not made little difference. But for the true heir, the impact was profound.

Cheng Guang’s gaze lingered on the methods of blood extraction.

The process was, in essence, simple: drain the victim’s blood and marrow completely.

Yet this method carried a high risk—the subject might die on the spot from blood loss.

Further, the death of a royal heir would trigger a cosmic upheaval.

Such a crime defied the world’s order; if discovered, the perpetrator would be hunted by every dynasty.

To mitigate the risk, practitioners often used blood-regenerating elixirs, extracting and replenishing simultaneously, until the vitality in the drawn blood was spent.

A straightforward approach, indeed.

Cheng Guang continued reading.

At that moment, footsteps sounded behind him, light and elegant, accompanied by a pleasant fragrance.

Recognizing the familiar scent, Cheng Guang knew it was Qingluan.

Qingluan walked gracefully to his side, respectfully saluted, and was about to speak when she noticed the book on the ancient table.

“Your Highness, this is…”

Cheng Guang did not explain, merely handed her the book for a glance.

After reading, Qingluan’s beautiful face paled in shock, her lips slightly parted.

“Your Highness, this… this…”

She realized the book was an experimental record of extracting royal bloodlines.

Such a flagrant violation of the natural order, openly documented, would surely doom its author if ever exposed—likely already dead.

After her initial shock, Qingluan was puzzled as to why Cheng Guang would read such a book.

Cheng Guang smiled but did not answer directly. Some matters, before completion, were foolish to reveal—even to someone trustworthy like Qingluan.

He put the book away and looked at her. “It’s part of the plan.”

Qingluan’s face took on a hint of grievance, annoyed by Cheng Guang’s enigmatic words at such a moment.

She wisely refrained from pressing further, glancing at Lin Cheng nearby.

“Lin Cheng, I need to discuss something with His Highness. Please stand guard outside.”

Lin Cheng’s eyes widened at her words, wanting to protest.

He knew Qingluan had lately enjoyed the prince’s favor and wished to compete, but lacked the means. As a woman, Qingluan’s advantages far outweighed his own.

Cheng Guang chuckled. “Lin Cheng, just step outside for now.”

With that, Lin Cheng wilted, dared not refuse, and quietly left the courtyard, standing at the gate with a melancholy expression.

“This is bad, really bad.”

“That woman Qingluan has claimed the prince’s heart.”

“Now they discuss matters without me.”

…

Inside the courtyard, Qingluan waited for Lin Cheng to leave before turning to the main topic.

“Your Highness, he seems to have reached the outskirts of the capital. A servant at a manor outside the city reported a beggar claiming to be the prince, asking for food, but was driven away.”

“The servant said the man resembled you, but everyone knows you’re in the capital, so no one paid attention.”

“I think that must be the true heir, though I wonder why he looks like a beggar…”

The ‘he’ Qingluan referred to was, of course, the true prince.

Cheng Guang nearly lost composure upon hearing this.

“A beggar… It seems his escape from the estate hasn’t gone well.”

Thinking it over, Cheng Guang understood—the privileged heir, raised without want, likely fled with only a few protective items, little money. Once outside, his funds ran out, and the journey back to the capital was arduous.

It was no wonder he looked like a beggar.

Qingluan nodded, her expression equally strange. “It must be him.”

“With his temperament, he wouldn’t return to the estate unless absolutely necessary.”

Cheng Guang’s face remained calm, fingers tapping the table. “Which manor did he appear at?”

Qingluan replied, “White Deer Manor, a hundred miles from the capital. They keep many exotic white deer there, prized for spiritual meat and milk.”

Cheng Guang was not surprised. “Judging by his pace, he’ll reach the capital by late tomorrow at the latest.”

“Yes…” Qingluan’s large, sparkling eyes brimmed with worry.

“With the prince approaching the city, he might use some means to alert the head of the house. He still has several communication devices.”

“But he’s unlikely to contact the master directly, since he fled of his own accord. He’ll probably return to the estate first thing.”

Qingluan spoke, but was at a loss.

Once the prince returned, all initiative would be lost.

Last night they learned he was coming; now, in two days, he would arrive.

The rapid pace of events left Qingluan flustered, anxiety plain on her delicate face.

“If it comes to it, we can still…”

Cheng Guang interrupted her. “It’s not the time to flee.”

“With only our means, escape is impossible.”

“I need to prepare a few contingencies—so if the plan fails, we can slip away.”

“Contingencies?” Qingluan asked, puzzled, tilting her head as if a child.

She considered herself clever, but before Cheng Guang, she felt as clueless as Lin Cheng, unable to grasp his intentions.

It was not Qingluan’s fault; she simply lacked information, her ignorance blinding her to the path ahead.

Cheng Guang nodded, his gaze directed toward the Lantern Division, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Yes, contingencies.”

His eyes lowered, murmuring to himself.

“Bai Shuxuan is a useful pawn. Let’s see what value can be squeezed from her.”

“Besides, she’s the one who could turn the true prince into a sycophant—quite the talent, really, a waste not to make use of her.”

“If she could seduce the true prince again, perhaps he could be perfectly controlled, resolved without a ripple.”

“The only trouble is, how to control Bai Shuxuan herself. She’s badly wounded, her power diminished, and I’m not sure if her charm still works.”

“I can try, at least.”

Qingluan did not catch Cheng Guang’s muttering, but sensed he was plotting something.

Cheng Guang’s eyes were calm and deep, as placid as an ancient well. After tapping the table, he rose without hesitation and strode toward the gate.

…