Chapter 648: Breaking the Move

Di An, the imperial palace.

By the sky-lake, birds sing and flowers bloom; after the rain, the misty haze dispels the summer's heat.

Two elders, companions through life, walk along a shaded path beside the lake's bank. The early morning light filters through the tree branches, falling upon them, catching the attention of the older man dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe.

The elder lifts his gaze, fixating on a green bird leaping among the branches, and suddenly speaks:

"Since the beginning of last year, the number of times we have met has only increased."

The middle-aged man, with an unrivaled bearing, stops in his steps. His voice, calm and devoid of emotion, carries no hint of feeling:

"It is not a good thing."

The elder turns to him, his deep, aged eyes holding a subtle, profound meaning:

"Is that so? Across the vast realm of Daji, those who wish to see me come like fish crossing a river. Yet, to you, as the prime minister, it has now become something ill-omened."

The middle-aged man meets his gaze, but says nothing.

The elder shook his head gently, then continued walking forward.

"Indeed, the more times we meet, the more events unfold beyond the borders."

Inhaling the fresh, damp scent of soil after the rain, the middle-aged man stepped steadily beside him, following the thread of the conversation and asking:

"So, Your Majesty summoned me to address which particular matter?"

The elder lowered his eyes, not immediately answering, but spoke softly and mysteriously:

"I once believed the driving force behind the northern frontier campaign was either your young subordinate or Zong Qingsheng. But recently, I've come to realize my judgment was wrong—and terribly so."

The middle-aged man stared at the elder's back, his voice calm and probing:

"Then, wasn't the victory in the northern campaign due to Wu Yuan?"

The yellow-robed elder glanced sideways, his sharp gaze lingering on his trusted companion for a few breaths before shaking his head slowly:

"Wu Yuan does possess that capability. But I have not yet brought her to that level."

On this note, the old man in yellow robes withdrew his gaze and said no more.

He was waiting, waiting for the one beside him to speak first.

After the two had walked together for scores of paces more, the voice of the middle-aged man drifted slowly into his ears:

"The Western Town will be swiftly overturned by the sect."

"Surprised?"

"Prior to this, I knew the sect would make moves elsewhere—but I did not know it would be Zhu Chaoxian, nor could I be certain of the manner in which."

Zhu Chaoxian—the original name of the Marquis of the Western Town, before he was granted the surname.

Li Yaoyuan gave a faint, skeptical nod, his boots skimming over the stone path, the dew from the barley clinging to his ankle, his tone laced with a touch of irony:

"Then it seems my prime minister still cannot monitor my realm with complete vigilance."

With that, Li Yaoyuan shook his head slightly, one hand resting behind him, and spoke calmly:

"I have always held little regard for Zhu's early reign—he was nothing but a warrior. The state of Zhenxi Commandery today is, in truth, a natural outcome of its own decline."

To this, Xu Yinhe did not deny it, but instead said:

"Your Majesty, do you have any thoughts on the recent developments in Zhenxi Commandery?"

"."

As they spoke, the two had stepped out of the forest, and the view instantly broadened—azure skies, deep lake waters, white birds arriving in the morning, the breeze gently brushing over endless green grass. A stillness, serene and harmonious, filled the air.

Gazing upon this tranquil scene, Li Yaohuan smiled lightly and stepped forward, his slightly slender frame bathed in sunlight:

"Minister, you seem rather anxious."

"."

Xu Yinhe paused beneath the shadow of the trees, gazing at the figure's back without immediately approaching.

Li Yaohuan paid no attention to the reaction behind him, continuing forward as he softly inquired about some unrelated matters:

"Prime Minister, in your opinion, what enables us to win in the north, to utterly subdue the northern barbarians and sects?"

Xu Yin He stood still, responding in a calm tone:

"Your Majesty, I beg to be informed."

Li Yaoxuan did not turn, advancing steadily, his voice laced with a smile:

"Once again, you're playing dumb. The northern victory stems from the decades-long planning and nearly reckless resource investment by you and I. The sects have now established their presence in the Western Frontier, plotting for generations—what right do you have to sit at the same table as them?"

".."

The distance between them grew ever wider.

Xu Yin He remained still, his voice steady:

"It seems Your Majesty has already forgotten how we, step by step, arrived at this point."

"Of course I remember."

Li Yaoxuan's voice, faint and tinged with memory, drifted softly, low and mournful: "As one nears death, certain things from the past become inescapable. Those days of walking on thin ice have been haunting me lately—every gamble of life, every perilous moment. I wish to forget them, yet I cannot."

Xu Yinhè heard this, and a complex flicker passed through the stillness of his eyes. He instinctively reached to move, yet ultimately chose to remain where he was.

And then, after a brief silence, the voice came again, slowly:

"Minister, return now. I have obtained the information I sought.

I hope the one you've been waiting for does not disappoint you. I hope he lives and returns safely to Di'an.

After all, Qingyan and Zhao yuan will also be returning to the capital soon."

.

Xu Yinhè stood in the shadow of the trees, silently watching that familiar figure walk along the riverbank—along the path he had traversed countless times—until the figure vanished from sight, and only then did he turn around.

But,

this time, he did not bow.

Within the western city of Zhenxi, an atmosphere of grim stillness hung heavy.

Seeing the scattered sparks of starlight flickering along the city walls, Xu Yuan felt a sudden, unbidden urge to bolt with Li Junwu and the others—right then, right there.

He had never been one for striving. To lie dormant, to drift like a dead fish, was far more natural than to rise. His journey thus far had been nothing but pushed by external forces.

His father’s grand vision—something he deeply admired—was not entirely foreign to him. Still, to be honest, he preferred to live quietly, to preserve himself, rather than to reach out and save the world.

Yet the truth was, the people around him were now bound tightly to the chariot of the Xiang family. To live quietly meant continuing on.

His own identity, the expectations of those close to him, and the hopes of his subordinates—all of them pressed him to keep going, to face it head-on, even when his heart rebelled.

In the early days of Shengshan County, and during the journey north, failure was unthinkable. But now, in Zhenxi, the situation was fundamentally different.

This game wasn’t built by the Xiang family. His father had already abandoned this region. So, there was no longer any imperative to win. And from the pervasive, suffocating aura of violence around him, it was clear that Zhenxi had already crumbled beyond repair.

In the northern campaign, his strategic maneuvers had been entirely underpinned by the boundless power granted by his father, the Chancellor. Now, in Zhenxi, the cards he could play were few, almost nonexistent.

Since arriving in Zhenxi, he had indeed dismantled many of the enemy’s pre-arranged strategies. Yet even now, the enemy’s hidden reserves remained utterly opaque, deep and unseeable.

Before the battle even began, they unleashed a barrage of city defenses right at him. Xu Yuan could reasonably suspect that the defensive array on their side had also been pre-arranged by the enemy.

Decades of planning by the sect—nothing human could stand against it.

". . ."

In that instant, Xu Yuan thought of countless things.

The thought of fleeing spread through his mind, yet suddenly dissolved into a smile at the corner of his lips.

His gaze passed through the barrier of the Si Zi Jing, landing upon the dozens of heavy siege weapons, each pulsing with an endless, lethal intent.

Fuck fleeing!

Wasn't there still a chance to win? Li Zhao yuan, that damn fool, had thrown his own life into the game—what could Xu Changtian possibly fear?

"Master Si, don't worry about me."

Before the third crystal giant arrow descended, Xu Yuan's voice softly reached the ear of the Si Zi Jing.

Startled, Si Zi Jing turned to inquire about the reason—but all he saw was a strange black mist expanding outward from the third prince's center.

It was swift, almost instantaneous—before Xu Yuan had even finished speaking, the crystal launched from the city tower and shot toward him.

A moment of hesitation stirred within his mind.

He did not know whether he should obey the third prince’s command.

Though the third prince held the highest authority in the Western Town, the question remained: if the third prince misjudged and died right before his eyes, would he, as the head of the Black Scale Capital Bureau, be held accountable?

Yet in the next breath, he chose to step aside.

For in his vision, the black mist had vanished without a trace, teleporting over ten paces in an instant—exactly at that moment, the third prince broke free from his line of sight.

Silently,

the colossal crystal arrow, bearing immense force, pierced through the mist, grazing the third prince’s side, and then surged forward, racing into the distance.

It worked.

Feeling death pass mere inches from his body, Xu Yuan's eyes flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible thrill.

He could not see, nor sense the trajectory of the crystal giant arrow descending upon him—but he knew it was not a technique of a high-tier cultivator. Though its power was immense, once launched, it lost all control, hurtling forward in a straight line toward its original point of aim.

During the brief moment when Si Zi Jing had intercepted the arrow, Xu Yuan had been silently weaving and layering the patterns of Ta Zhuo Zhan within his body, now fully prepared.

But then—

A thunderous roar from behind shattered his thoughts, pulling him back into the present.

The crystal giant arrow, etched with the runes of the Break-Magic Array, sliced through the sky above the western town, carving a massive crater into the eastern city wall. The damage to the wall caused localized runes to flicker and pulse.

For a single, stunned instant, Xu Yuan instinctively glanced upward.

He had to go up there.

Otherwise, the city's defensive array would be continuously shattered by these crystal arrows.

The moment the thought flashed through his mind, Xu Yuan’s body darted toward the high heavens without a second thought.

The second and third bolts followed in immediate succession, yet he evaded them by mere fractions of a second through sheer instantaneous displacement, the colossal arrows piercing right through the protective sky-curtain spanning the upper reaches before dissolving into specks of light.

Beneath the bewildered gazes of countless souls within the city, that suddenly manifested mass of eerie black mist kept teleporting across the firmament, as though some glitch had rippled through the very fabric of reality.

Positioned at the dead center of the black mist, Xu Yuan continuously calculated his remaining reserves of Primordial Qi; the Void-Treading Slash drained him immensely, but fortunately, the capacity within his body now vastly exceeded that of an ordinary Fused-Body cultivator.

Ten breaths.

He could hold out for ten breaths.

This window should suffice for Huang Shiwei to purge the traitors atop the city walls, and equally suffice for Li Junwu to activate the defensive array to shield him.

"The Third Young Master truly possesses extraordinary methods."

The voice of an elder suddenly resonated from below, his Soul-Condensation cultivation forcing him to exert his absolute utmost just to project his words outward: "That you were capable of such a technique was indeed an oversight on old Wen's part."

That Confucian scholar surnamed Wen again?!

Xu Yuan shifted instantaneously, his gaze turning toward the direction of the sound.

At the far edge of his vision, an elderly man with kind eyes stood atop a tower, hunched over, smiling and waving at him:

"Originally, I thought this move would compel that one to intervene. Now it seems my plan must be revised."

Before the words had fully settled, during the brief pause between his teleportations, Xu suddenly saw the targeting directions of the city's defensive crossbows all shift simultaneously—toward the eastern city wall!

"..."

Seeing this, a look of confusion flickered unconsciously into Xu's eyes.

How could this be possible?

In an age when basic communication relied almost entirely on shouting, how could a scholar named Wen possibly transmit orders simultaneously to dozens of rebel garrison commanders?

No.

Gazing at the smiling, spirit-bound elder, Xu's eyes flickered with a mixture of astonishment and uncertainty.

Clones?

The technique of this scholar named Wen is not cloning, but parasitism.

Those dozens of rebel garrison commanders were not traitors—they had been possessed by his spell!

Feeling the gaze emanating from the depths of the black mist, the elder with kind eyes and serene expression laughed aloud:

"Should the city's half of its defensive array be lost, how many of your hidden cards remain, Third Prince?"

What should one do?

Xu Yuan did not loosen his guard; he still moved swiftly through the air, shifting position after position. Yet his thoughts had reached their peak, spinning in perfect clarity.

Should he send Tian Ye into action?

No—those crystal arrows would not target him. That woman would only watch, savoring the spectacle.

What about the floating seal?

What if he uses the Floating Seal now—what then?

He must use the Floating Seal to suddenly obliterate one of the opponents' Saints without warning.

But now it seems he has no choice.

In that instant of lightning and thunder, a clear, sharp voice suddenly rang in his ears:

"Long Tian, let me handle it."

Before the words had fully settled,

dozens of crystal giant arrows shot forth, racing toward the most critical array node on the eastern city wall.

At the same time, Xu Yuan sensed a terrifying aura instantly coalescing deep within the magistrate's office.

Was it Li Junwu?

Then,

He saw a blade of light slicing across the sky, and the figure that glowed like a crimson flame clad in red robes.

The prelude to the sect's clash had come to an end.

A thunderous roar shook the heavens. The eastern city wall remained untouched, while the shockwaves from dozens of crystal giant arrows leveled several blocks beneath.

Only the armored woman with short hair stood firm in the air, surrounded by delicate threads of lightning from the support of the Zhongxi army—like a celestial deity.

Gazing at that figure, the elder with kind eyes subtly furrowed his brow:

"The plan seems to have taken an unexpected turn."

"What kind of turn?"

Xu Yuan's voice suddenly echoed above him.

The elder stared at him for a moment, shook his head with a smile, and said:

"Perhaps I misjudged. Instead of coming to see me, the Third Prince should go and check on the Lady's condition."

The words fell.

The elder's smiling eyes gradually grew hazy. After a moment of stillness, his gaze met Xu Yuan's detached stare—and a flicker of fear crept into it.

This time,

The Wen surname scholar did not give Xu Yuan the chance to humiliate him.

As he hesitated, weighing whether to slaughter the old man to eliminate any future threat, Si Zi Jing's startled voice suddenly burst into Xu Yuan's ear:

"Third Prince, heaven!"

"."

Instinctively turning his gaze upward, Xu Yuan saw a figure drifting across the endless blue sky—and there, in the eyes of that figure, he saw two eyes like dragons surveying the world.

The White Emperor.