149: Chapter 146 His Name!

On the long path, only Chen Heng's lonely figure remained, along with... behind him, the current Imperial Sovereign, Chen Chaochu, who had appeared at some unknown moment, his face as pale as paper.

"Old Ancestor..." Chen Chaochu's voice trembled. He looked at the gate of the Heavenly Prison, which had been shattered by a single palm strike, his eyes filled with horror and... regret.

He knew that today's situation—this situation that had caused the Imperial Family to lose all face and plunged Great Xuan into an unprecedented crisis—was ultimately caused by him.

Back then, he hadn't been without suspicion regarding Consort Ye's death.

Why would a consort who lived in seclusion and never participated in any palace intrigue suddenly contract a malignant illness and die abruptly?

Doubts had always lingered in his heart, and he had even sent people to investigate secretly. But in the end, because of the power of Consort De's Family, the shadow of the Heavenly Spirit Sect, and his own instinctive distance and indifference toward harem affairs as an emperor, he chose to... let the matter rest.

He thought that time would wash everything away.

He thought that as long as he gave Zhiwen enough compensation, the pain would gradually be soothed.

But he was wrong.

Terribly wrong!

Some wounds only rot in the depths of the heart as time passes, turning into the most poisonous abscesses. Once punctured, they erupt with world-destroying power.

"Old Ancestor... if... if Zhiwen really... starts a war with the Heavenly Spirit Sect, what should my Great Xuan... my Great Xuan Dynasty do?" Chen Chaochu's voice carried a hint of confusion and fear.

On one side was a top-tier Sect with a Legacy of thousands of years, which concerned the balance of power for the entire Human Race.

On the other side was a son who was incomprehensibly powerful yet also solitary and resolute, treating imperial power as if it were nothing.

This choice was too difficult.

Chen Heng slowly turned around, staring intently at Chen Chaochu with a look of disappointment and frustration.

That gaze was like a knife, like a sword, piercing Chen Chaochu so much that he instinctively lowered his head.

"What choice is there to make?"

Chen Heng's voice was cold, devoid of any emotion.

"Is there even a need to think about it!"

He violently flicked his sleeve, and an invisible surge of Qi forced Chen Chaochu back a step.

"Chen Chaochu! As an emperor, do you lack even this much decisiveness?"

"I ask you, is the Heavenly Spirit Sect more important, or is an existence that can suppress the Luck of my Great Xuan for the next thousand years and potentially lead our Human Race to a brand new height more important?"

"I ask you again, is an ally who needs marriage and interests to maintain the relationship more important, or is a Qilin son who carries the Bloodline of my Chen Family and possesses an infinite future more important?"

"Today, he can overturn the Capital and confront the Heavenly Spirit Sect for his mother. In the future, if anyone dares to touch the territory of my Great Xuan, do you think he won't pierce through the very heavens for it!"

Chen Heng's voice grew more severe with each word, like a twilight drum and morning bell, striking hard against Chen Chaochu's heart.

Chen Chaochu's face turned from white to red, then from red to pale green, as fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

He understood.

He understood completely.

Chen Heng looked at him, the harshness in his eyes gradually turning into a sigh.

"From now on, the Great Xuan Dynasty will have only one voice, and that is Chen Zhiwen's voice. Whatever he wants to do, we will support him. Whomever he wants to kill, we will hand him the blade!"

"If he wants to fight, then we fight!"

"Even if it means becoming enemies with the entire Desolate Province, my Great Xuan Dynasty will stand behind him!"

"This is not only to make up for what we owe him but also... a grand gamble where my Chen Family bets all the nation's fortunes!"

Chen Heng's eyes flashed with a frantic and burning light.

What he was gambling on was Chen Zhiwen's words: "It is not worthy!"

What he was gambling on was an unprecedented, glorious future!

...

The deepest part of the Heavenly Prison.

The light here had long been swallowed by darkness, and the air was filled with a stench of blood, decay, and despair.

On the surrounding walls, shimmering runes were inscribed, forming a massive Spirit-Suppressing Array capable of suppressing the cultivation of any Grandmaster Realm expert to below the Qi Ling Realm.

On the damp floor, water droplets fell from time to time, making "drip-drop" sounds that were exceptionally piercing in this deathly silent environment.

In the depths of a solitary cell, a figure curled up on a pile of straw in the corner.

She wore a prisoner's uniform, her former elegance long gone, her hair disheveled and her face haggard, yet those eyes still maintained a trace of calmness that did not belong to a prisoner.

It was Consort De.

When the loud bang of the Heavenly Prison's gate being shattered reached her, her body only trembled slightly before she regained her composure.

She knew he had come.

Footsteps approached from afar.

Neither fast nor slow, every step seemed to tread upon her heart, causing her breath to stall.

Finally, the footsteps stopped outside her cell.

A black figure stood quietly before the bars, those eyes as deep as an abyss piercing through the darkness to fall upon her.

There was no killing intent, no anger, only indifference.

As if looking at a... dead person.

Consort De slowly raised her head and met that gaze.

She smiled, a smile that was somewhat desolate and self-mocking.

"You... have come after all." Her voice was hoarse and dry, like a traveler who hadn't drunk water for a long time.

"I knew this day would come. I just didn't expect it to be so soon."

She seemed to have long anticipated her end; not much fear could be seen on her face, only a lingering trace of resentment toward her lost power and life deep within those calm eyes.

She was unwilling to accept that after half a lifetime of painstaking effort, she had ended up like this.

She was unwilling to accept that she had clearly won, yet lost to someone who should have been dead.

Chen Zhiwen ignored her muttering.

He just looked at her quietly, like a deity looking down on an ant.

After a long time, he finally spoke slowly. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached Consort De's ears clearly, making her Divine Soul tremble.

"I didn't come to listen to your nonsense."

"I want a name."

Consort De's body stiffened abruptly, and the calmness on her face finally showed a crack.

She stared intently at Chen Zhiwen, a hint of alarm and suspicion flashing in her eyes.

Chen Zhiwen's voice, like a cold wind from the Nine Netherworld, continued to ring in her ears.

"Back then, the person from the Heavenly Spirit Sect who handed you the 'Soul-Corroding Powder' and told you how to use it."

"His name."