The Imperial palace was as deep and impenetrable as the sea—commoners could only dream of getting close. As the heart of the empire’s power, this was no place for ordinary people: those dressed in plain cloth could only gaze up at the towering vermillion walls and let their imaginations run wild about this paradise on earth.
Not that Li Xun gave much thought to what the commoners dread about. When he was younger, he’d been one of the more favored sons among the vassal princes. He practically grew up running in and out of the Forbidden Palace, always under so excuse like studying with the crown prince. He’d been here more tis than he could count.
But today, as he stepped inside once again, it was not as a heir of a princely household or a mber of the imperial bloodline, but as a Daoist acolyte. It was only by relying on the face of his master that he was able to enter so deeply.
Ten years. A full turn of fortune’s wheel. That strange, bittersweet feeling clung tightly to his chest.
Diligent Governance Hall, ntal Cultivation Hall, Refined Heart Garden, Undawn Lake...
Scene after familiar scene passed before his eyes. Ten years had gone by, yet nothing here seed to have changed… Perhaps the only real difference was the way the eunuchs and palace maids looked at him now.
Reverence, awe… even fear. All wrapped around him like an invisible cloak.
Of course, he knew—most of those gazes weren’t aid at him at all. They were fixed on the woman walking just a few steps ahead.
The National Preceptor.
Today, she wore a different outfit once again. A slender white rhinoceros hairpin adorned her hair, with two strands of celestial silk ribbon hanging from either end, fluttering in the breeze. Her new jade-colored robe highlighted her slender, well-proportioned figure even more impressively.
Over that, a layer of near-transparent gauze floated around her like mist—soft and ethereal, like she could soar into the clouds at any mont.
Unlike the usual majestic grandeur expected of a National Preceptor, what she exuded was sothing else entirely—aloof, carefree, unmoved by the worldly matters.
Watching her move with the grace of flowing clouds and water, Li Xun couldn’t help but feel like he was standing at the base of a great mountain, looking up in awe.
And honestly? That feeling wasn’t misplaced.
Yin Wanderer—one of the legendary Three Great Wanderers—was a powerful figure in the Tongxuan Realm. She stood shoulder to shoulder with the leaders of the 33 Major Sects… maybe even above them.
Li Xun couldn’t help but feel he was sohow fated with these legendary wanderers. He’d been coerced by the Blood Wanderer, shared a striking resemblance to the Jade Wanderer, and now, he was following the Yin Wanderer as her little Daoist attendant. In the entire history of the Tongxuan Realm, who else could claim that?
Yet even as these thoughts danced in his mind, another question quietly lingered in his heart—
Yin Wanderer might be walking around the capital all high-profile and untouchable, but the city wasn’t hers alone. Sowhere out there, hidden in the shadows, Blood Wanderer was still lurking. There was no way he hadn’t noticed her movents.
So… if he did know, what would happen?
Would the kings et?
The thought flickered across his mind, then faded just as quickly. By now, the two of them had passed the Undawn Lake Uncertainty and arrived at their destination—Xinya Pavilion.
“National Preceptor, at last you’re here!”
Before they even reached the pavilion, a fat man stood up inside and called out. He was quite tall, and standing there, he looked like a wall. But his voice lacked strength and breath—it was clear he wasn’t as robust as he looked.
Dressed in bright yellow robes embroidered with dragon motifs, Li Xun instantly recognized him—Emperor Longqing himself.
He’s gotten fatter… and older, Li Xun sighed.
When he’d left nine years ago, Longqing had already been a hefty man. But back then, he was still in his pri—his body solid, his face glowing with health, his voice full and commanding. Now? The shine on his skin was gone, his voice hoarse, wrinkles etched deeply across his face. He was only in his forties, but he looked far worse than his age.
As the emperor spoke, Li Xun and the Yin Wanderer had already approached. Yin Wanderer, ever so proud, rely dipped her head in the barest of nods. towards this mortal man. That was all. And yet, the emperor didn’t take offense—on the contrary, he greeted her with utmost deference.
Li Xun, ever sharp-eyed and quick to read a room, understood imdiately. If soone like the Yin Wanderer could be this casual, then he too knew exactly how to behave.
Li Xun, a master of reading people, instantly caught on. Seeing how the Yin Wanderer carried herself, he naturally knew how to play his part.
When Longqing's gaze finally landed on him, Li Xun said nothing. He simply cupped his hands in a half-bow, expression cold and unreadable.
And the more indifferent he appeared, the more the emperor seed to take him seriously. Longqing turned toward Yin Sanren and asked with curiosity, “National Preceptor, this young man is…?”
She smiled faintly, “This is my junior-nephew. His surna is Li. If Your Majesty wishes, just call him Daoist Li.”
It wasn’t exactly the most respectful way to introduce soone, but Longqing didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he smiled at Li Xun and said warmly, “Then it seems this Daoist and I are of the sa lineage. I’ve already acknowledged the National Preceptor as my master, so by seniority, we’re equals. May I ask your age, brother?”
Li Xun gave him a glance—cool and faintly pitying. This was the Son of Heaven of Great Zhou? The ruler of all under heaven? And yet here he was, lowering himself in front of an unknown Daoist, calling him "brother"? How could soone like this command armies and rule a nation of millions?
Though these thoughts churned inside, his face betrayed nothing. He replied blandly, “Seventy.”
The words hit like a thunderclap. Longqing’s eyes widened in disbelief, a flicker of suspicion flashing across his face—but it was quickly replaced by delighted amazent. “Daoist Brother truly possesses the arts of eternal youth! You hardly look it at all!”
Li Xun gave a slight twitch of the lips. Barely a smile.
He almost couldn’t help it. Longevity and youthful appearance were nothing out of the ordinary for those on the cultivation path. But for Longqing—ruler of a nation—to swallow such a claim so easily? Did the man have no discernnt at all?
A seventeen-year-old playing the emperor for a fool… What hope is left for this dynasty?
Longqing, blissfully unaware of Li Xun’s inner monologue, grew increasingly warm and affectionate. He even stepped forward and grasped Li Xun’s arm, personally inviting him to take a seat.
Li Xun flicked a quick glance toward the Yin Wanderer. Seeing her smiling faintly without objection, he relaxed. Still, before sitting down, he offered her a respectful nod.
Only then did the Yin Wanderer step forward and address the emperor. “This junior nephew of mine may still be refining his cultivation, but in the arts of longevity and health, he already has so depth. That said, he’s not fond of socializing—withdrawn by nature. I hope Your Majesty won’t take offense.”
The mont the words arts of longevity reached his ears, Longqing's face lit up like dawn breaking over the mountains. His eyes on Li Xun changed instantly—no longer just polite interest, but a deep curiosity, maybe even hope.
Li Xun caught the shift right away. He looked the emperor over more carefully now, and it hit him: Ah… so he wants sothing.
One glance at Longqing’s bloated, failing body, and Li Xun could already start counting how many days he had left.
The emperor had no idea that the quiet teenager before him had already rung the death bell in his heart.
Still, Longqing looked at him with an eager gleam in his eye, speaking with genuine warmth, “In recent years, I’ve focused a great deal on preserving my health. I’ve even dabbled in alchemy and Daoist studies. Sadly, even with good teachers, my dull talent has held back. If you, Daoist brother, have the ti, I would be deeply grateful for your guidance. You shall be well rewarded.”
Li Xun looked at him and sneered internally. That body of yours? Completely empty of vitality, and you think you can cultivate?
But then another thought surfaced—this man —this decaying emperor—was his own uncle by blood.
Blood ties were strange things, and for a mont, he didn’t know what to feel.
But none of it showed on his face. He kept his composure, nodding faintly and replying with a nonchalant calm—just enough to acknowledge the request. There was an effortless pride in his restraint, the kind that ca naturally to one who walked beyond the mundane world.
Of course, things weren’t going to go that smoothly for him. Under Longqing’s persistent urging to drink, Li Xun ended up showing off a couple of “immortal tricks.” Nothing too flashy—just a few techniques the Yin Wanderer had taught him the day before. He even slipped the emperor a spiritual pill, which only made Longqing more convinced he was the real deal.
Throughout the modest banquet, Li Xun kept a close eye on the exchanges between Longqing and the Yin Wanderer. It was obvious—the emperor harbored thoughts about this stunning Daoist woman. With a beauty like hers, how could he not? But that impulse, that desire, was buried deep beneath sothing stronger: fear.
He must’ve tried sothing before… and paid the price.
That would certainly explain things. The Yin Wanderer wasn’t soone a mortal like Longqing could trifle with and walk away unscathed. If she had been taken advantage of by such a man, it would’ve been a disgrace on a cosmic scale.
A few rounds of wine in, and Longqing’s chubby face was already flushed—though the shade of red was all wrong. Not the healthy glow of a tipsy man, but the warning hue of a body on the brink.
Li Xun was quietly sighing over the emperor’s sorry state when Longqing suddenly said, “National Preceptor, these past few days I’ve been diligently practicing the Dragon-Tiger Yang Preservation thod you taught . I feel I’ve made so progress. Would you take a look and see how far I’ve co?”
The Yin Wanderer gave him a brief glance and smiled slightly. “The way of inner cultivation is about stability above all. Your Majesty has only been practicing for a few months. Naturally, you’re still far from mastering it.”
Longqing’s face fell with disappointnt. “Then… how much longer will it take?”
“With spiritual pills to nourish your foundation, Your Majesty has progressed faster than most. At this pace, you’d need… maybe another six months.”
Longqing’s fleshy face scrunched up, and he let out a groan. “Preceptor, you of all people know how bad my condition is. Making it through these past three months was already a miracle. How could I possibly last another half year…”
The Yin Wanderer just smiled quietly, saying nothing more.
Longqing grumbled for a good while, muttering about his own misfortune, until his eyes suddenly lit up. “Ah! There’s still your immortal pill, Preceptor! That Primordial Qi Elixir you ntioned—when will it be ready?”
The Yin Wanderer answered calmly, “Likely around the year’s end. Once the tribute from the provinces arrives, we’ll be able to gather the best ingredients and begin refining.”
But Li Xun’s mind sharpened at that mont. Refining pills? No way it was that simple…
Sothing about this slled off.
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