Chapter 16: A Story of a Little Taoist

In the dimly lit world, the imperial palace appeared silent amidst the multitude of halls. Its vast roofs resembled the outstretched wings of a Kunpeng, while the glazed tiles in the rain shimmered with a subdued yet vibrant palette.

Inside the palace, all the floor lamps were lit. The young Emperor stood beside a golden pillar intricately carved with dragons, gazing out at the rain.

He recalled the scene of the small blue-and-white sedan chair entering the palace just moments ago. As the supreme ruler of the nation, he watched as the woman inside the sedan didn't even bother to dismount and pay respects, seemingly oblivious to his presence as the sedan continued deep into the palace.

Fortunately, his ministers either bowed their heads or prostrated themselves, so presumably no one witnessed his awkward moment.

He sighed, recalling the fleeting, enchanting silhouette glimpsed between the white curtains and blue patterns. His heart stirred, and though he hadn't met her, he felt that all the women in his harem had become mere common beauties.

It was just a pity he had no affinity for the immortal path.

As he was lost in thought, he saw a figure rushing frantically towards him from the foot of the distant stairs.

“Minister Song?” The Emperor narrowed his eyes, a sense of foreboding stirring within him.

Minister Song, without an umbrella, lifted his somewhat cumbersome wide robes and ran through the autumn rain.

“Minister Song, why such haste in coming to see me today?” The Emperor placed his hand before him, speaking gently and unhurriedly as he watched him.

Minister Song knelt and bowed, “Greetings, Your Majesty…”

The Emperor helped him up, brushed the rainwater from his clothes, and asked, “Is there a matter of great importance?”

Minister Song anxiously replied, “I just received a secret report: at dawn today, a group of assassins infiltrated the imperial city. It is now believed they have dispersed throughout the palace.”

The Emperor frowned but maintained his composure, continuing, “Have you ascertained their origins?”

Minister Song replied, “Most of the assassins are from the State of Song. One of them is remarkably brazen; multiple secret agents witnessed him in different locations. According to intelligence, that is the State of Jin’s foremost assassin… the Ghost in Colorful Robes.”

The Emperor’s heart tightened. He looked around and forced himself to remain calm, asking, “Who let them in? Who are they here to kill?”

Minister Song immediately said, “It has been confirmed: most of them are gathering outside the Grand Tutor’s Residence!”

Upon hearing “Grand Tutor’s Residence,” the Emperor understood and quickly sighed in relief. Outwardly, he feigned ignorance and spoke with sorrow: “Though the Grand Tutor is old, he is a vital pillar of our State of Zhao. These scoundrels from Jin intend to undermine the very foundation of our nation! It is said that Princess Xiang’er is also currently in the Grand Tutor’s Residence… I have always felt guilty about her mother’s death, and now, in this situation… it seems I am incompetent. If I send the palace experts to surround the Grand Tutor’s Residence, can we alleviate their immediate crisis?”

Minister Song immediately reassured him, “Your Majesty, as long as you are here, the State of Zhao stands. My purpose in seeing you today is to urge Your Majesty to guard against them with utmost vigilance, ensuring those villains do not infiltrate the inner palace!”

The Emperor nodded lightly, confidently stating, “Now, all the masters of Zhao are gathered here, and that immortal sect woman is present in the temple courtyard. Today, I doubt they would dare to come here to their deaths, and furthermore…”

A smile appeared on the Emperor’s face; he leaned back slightly, his tone revealing a hint of majesty: “Moreover, I hold the Vermilion Bird Fire Staff. If they truly dare to invade, once the Vermilion Bird Killing Array is activated, I will be like a deity within this imperial palace. What is there to fear?”

Hearing this, Minister Song visibly relaxed and echoed, “Your Majesty speaks wisely. I was overly concerned.”

This conversation took place within the imperial palace before Lord Blood Feather had ascended the city walls.

The young Emperor watched the increasingly heavy rain, and under the dim light of the sky, the ever-more desolate autumn rain. He couldn't help but recall the small blue-and-white sedan chair, his heart a mix of jealousy and envy. He wished he could grasp the Vermilion Bird Fire Staff at that moment, to see who was superior: himself, seated like a deity in the palace, or that immortal woman.

Could that immortal sect from beyond the world truly be so arrogant?

Minister Song stood by his side, quietly reporting something. Seeing His Majesty gazing at the autumn rain with a desolate expression, he couldn't help but recall his own twenty days of relentless toil. He felt utterly exhausted, and his face, which should have been vibrant, now showed signs of age.

Then, a colossal sound erupted from beyond the imperial palace. As the ear-splitting cry of a bird pierced the sky, news of Lord Blood Feather’s arrival spread like a plague.

The masters hidden in the darkness surrounding the palace all felt as if they were facing a formidable enemy.

After hearing this news, the young Emperor initially didn't react for a short while. Then, he saw a white rainbow rise from the ground, sweep across the imperial palace, and disappear through the vast autumn rain.

At that moment, he couldn't help but tremble all over. He grabbed Minister Song’s official robes and exclaimed, “Quickly, follow me into the palace!”

Minister Song was clearly panic-stricken as well. Lord Blood Feather’s fearsome reputation had spread throughout the State of Zhao for decades, even becoming the monster many women used to scare their children. Now, with the legend becoming reality, a deep-seated fear, like the chill rising from a dark well, emerged from his heart.

“Your Majesty intends to…”

The Emperor’s expression was resolute. “Retrieve the Vermilion Bird Fire Staff! I will activate the Vermilion Bird Killing Array!”

Minister Song was even more flustered: “Your Majesty, absolutely not! This item has a severe backlash. Your imperial person must not risk it. Perhaps we should find a prince with imperial blood…”

Minister Song did not continue, for the Emperor turned his head, his gaze already containing a man-eating fury.

Minister Song suddenly realized that he had touched a raw nerve. The Vermilion Bird Fire Staff was an authority passed down only to emperors since the founding of Zhao; it could never fall into others’ hands. Moreover, allowing others to control the palace’s grand array could lead to unforeseen complications.

The Emperor looked at him, the anger in his eyes slowly subsiding. He sighed and said, “I know Minister Song is also thinking of me, but I truly cannot bear to see the common people suffer at the hands of those evil spirits again. Lord Blood Feather’s reappearance today surely hides a major conspiracy… My mind is made up; do not try to persuade me.”

Minister Song bowed deeply, moved, and exclaimed, “Your Majesty is truly worthy of being the ruler of Zhao!”

The Emperor nodded lightly and said, “Let’s not waste time. The situation is still under control. Quickly, follow me to retrieve the Fire Staff.”

Minister Song paused, looking puzzled. “Your Majesty… this is a state secret. How can your servant casually enter a forbidden area?”

The Emperor looked at him and said, “Though the Vermilion Bird Fire Staff is a divine artifact, each time it is used, the one who retrieves it will suffer a backlash. Minister Song, you have served diligently for decades; I do not doubt you. Come with me.”

Minister Song immediately understood that the Emperor wanted him to retrieve the staff on his behalf. The Emperor’s claim of “not doubting” him was merely because Minister Song lacked imperial blood and thus could not activate the staff even after retrieving it…

He sneered inwardly, yet his face showed the composure of one ready to face death. He declared magnanimously, “Your servant is willing to go through fire and water for the State of Zhao.”

This was a late autumn rain; no matter how heavy or urgent it became, it only evoked a sense of desolation.

Many yellow leaves on the branches of large trees finally couldn't hold on, beaten down by the autumn rain and accumulating on the ground.

In the side courtyard of the Prince’s Estate, Ning Changjiu stood by the window, watching the rain outside. Ning Xiaoling sat diagonally on a chair, a black fur coat beneath her, and she was wrapped in several layers of clothing, making her look quite plump.

“Senior Brother, I’m scared…” Ning Xiaoling wrapped her clothes tighter around herself, gazing at the rain with deep apprehension in her eyes.

Ning Changjiu closed the window and asked, “What are you afraid of?”

Ning Xiaoling timidly said, “Something big must be happening in this city. They say when the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer. We should have left earlier; we shouldn’t get involved in this mess.”

Ning Changjiu said, “Junior Sister, do you have any wishes?”

Ning Xiaoling was slightly startled. She shifted her chair with her body and asked fearfully, “Is this imperial city truly so dangerous now?”

Ning Changjiu smiled and said, “I’m just asking, no other meaning.”

Ning Xiaoling uttered an “Oh,” then tilted her head, rocking her chair back and forth with a clatter. Thinking aloud, she said, “I want to become a Taoist priest.”

Ning Changjiu said, “Aren’t we already?”

Ning Xiaoling said with a serious expression, “I mean a true Taoist priest. Of course, I’m not enough, and… Ning Qinshui isn’t enough either. I want to be the kind of Taoist who can subdue demons with a sword and command spirits with talismans!”

Ning Changjiu looked at her with some surprise and asked, “Why do you have such a thought?”

Ning Xiaoling pursed her lips in thought and simply said, “Before, I just thought about it casually. But a year ago, when I formed my Innate Spirit, my fantasies suddenly became clearer.”

Ning Changjiu sat down beside her, asking equally seriously, “If I keep you confined here now, will you be angry?”

Ning Xiaoling asked, “Why would I be angry?”

Ning Changjiu said, “There’s a great demon in the imperial city now. Since you want to become a true Taoist, I should take you to see it.”

Ning Xiaoling shook her head repeatedly: “I’m not foolish. What if I lose my life by seeing it?”

Ning Changjiu looked into her clear, bright eyes and said, “Junior Sister, whether now or in the future, if you have any difficulties, just tell me. I will always be on your side.”

Ning Xiaoling looked at him, her eyes flickering, wanting to speak but hesitating.

She nestled deeper into the chair, her body curling up tighter, and said, “I’m fine… Senior Brother, tell me your story. What kind of fortuitous encounter did you have to become so powerful now? You used to be such a simpleton.”

“I don’t have much of a story,” Ning Changjiu thought for a moment and said, “How about I tell you a story about a young Taoist?”

Ning Xiaoling nodded, “Okay!”

Ning Changjiu began the story: “Once upon a time, there was a mountain, and on that mountain was a Taoist temple. In the temple were seven disciples, and the youngest one was responsible for closing the temple gates every day.”

Ning Xiaoling asked, “What about the master of the temple?”

Ning Changjiu replied, “The master had been in secluded cultivation for decades, never bothering with the disciples. In that temple, everyone listened to the Senior Sister and Second Senior Brother. The young Taoist was brought into the temple by the Second Senior Brother, and when he was very young, he saw a list that meticulously planned out his next twelve years of cultivation. It included what to study upon entering, how long it would take to achieve mastery, when to form his spirit, when to break through realms, and even when he would marry—everything was clearly laid out.”

“All of this was written by that master?” Ning Xiaoling questioned. “Life is unpredictable; no matter how clearly someone’s life is arranged, there will always be changes.”

Ning Changjiu shook his head: “No, that master was a true immortal. The youngest disciple cultivated step by step according to that plan, and every single step perfectly matched the rules on that paper.”

Ning Xiaoling didn’t believe it: “How can there be such an immortal in the world? What happened next?”

Ning Changjiu said, “Next, the young Taoist continued cultivating according to the master’s arrangements. When he was sixteen, he refused the marriage arranged by his master, wishing only to continue his devoted cultivation.”

Ning Xiaoling’s eyes lit up: “Does that count as a variable?”

Ning Changjiu shook his head with a smile: “No, that was the last year of those twelve years. After the young disciple refused the marriage, the Second Senior Brother gave him a new list, detailing everything to be done over the next twelve years. Every item, every timeline, was perfectly clear.”

Ning Xiaoling asked, “What if he had agreed to the marriage?”

Ning Changjiu said, “For an immortal like that, no matter what choice you make, she naturally has her arrangements.”

Ning Xiaoling nodded thoughtfully: “What happened next?”

Ning Changjiu said, “Later, the young Taoist diligently cultivated according to the path drawn by his master. Twelve years later, his Great Dao was complete, and on a full moon night, he ascended to immortality along with his six senior brothers and sisters from the temple.”

Ning Xiaoling waited for him to continue, but Ning Changjiu remained silent. Ning Xiaoling asked in surprise, “That’s it?”

Ning Changjiu did not answer.

Ning Xiaoling was greatly annoyed: “What kind of story is that? So boring! Senior Brother, you’re just trying to trick me.”

A faint smile appeared on Ning Changjiu’s lips: “Indeed, what a dull life that would be.”

Ning Xiaoling wasn’t giving up, pressing on: “Then what about that master? Such an immortal-like figure, did the young disciple not even see her once?”

Ning Changjiu said, “He did.”

Ning Xiaoling’s expression shifted slightly.

Ning Changjiu leaned his hands on the back of the chair, listening to the rain outside, and said, “As the young disciple was ascending, his master burst out of the temple, piercing his heart with one sword. Another sword shattered his Innate Spirit, which should have been perfected. Then the young disciple was struck down from the cloud cliff, his fate unknown.”

Ning Xiaoling looked into his eyes, her hands, wrapped in the fur coat, suddenly clenching tighter. She said, “Although that previous ending was boring, you don’t have to make up something like this to fool me. How could there be a master who kills…”

As she spoke, she suddenly fell silent. She looked at Ning Changjiu, recalling how she and he had also nearly been killed by their master.

If not of one’s own flesh and blood, what could not be killed?

Ning Xiaoling sighed: “That young Taoist is so pitiful. If there’s a next life…”

Ning Changjiu softly interrupted, “Where in this world is there a next life?”

Outside the window, the tolling of the imperial city’s ancient bell could be heard.

Soon after, rumbling thunder also began to echo.

The autumn wind seemed to be stirred by the autumn thunder, pushing open the not-quite-closed window. Rain mist, laden with withered leaves, blew in, scattering the poetry books on the desk.

Ning Changjiu did not immediately close it but silently gazed out the window.

Ning Xiaoling tilted her head, earnestly studying his profile. Though so close, his face seemed like the stars in the night sky, viewed from a vast plain—each one a bright, shimmering phantom.

Only light could be seen, not the physical form.

The rain intensified. Lord Blood Feather, pitifully clutching a red umbrella in its beak, squatted by the lake. To conserve energy, it hadn’t even used its demonic power to shield itself from the autumn rain. Now, completely drenched, it looked as disheveled as a drowned chicken.

At this moment, it was staring at the lake, on the verge of tears.

Then it noticed that the lake surface seemed to be covered with a thin layer of frost. The frost undulated with the waves, congealing into colder, harder ice.

Above the sky, lightning occasionally illuminated the scale-like dark clouds, and the roaring sounds were deafening.

The three figures on the lake surface had already collided, then vanished at an extremely high speed into the autumn rain. They were too fast for the eye to follow; only the spiritual power storms they raised could be seen.

Meanwhile, within the imperial city, the young Emperor ran out in a panic. He had lost all imperial decorum, stumbling and falling into the heavy rain, crying out in anguish: “Guards! Guards!… Minister Song, Minister Song has rebelled!”