219: Chapter 217 Undercurrents

The Third Prince sat in his study, clutching a letter in his hand.

The letter had been sent by Shen Yizhi; it was a thick stack, spanning several pages.

The handwriting was neat, each stroke so precise it looked as if it had been carved.

Shen Yizhi’s writing was always like this—measured and meticulous. Even amidst the frantic military affairs at the front lines, his script never showed the slightest hint of sloppiness.

The Third Prince read it from beginning to end, then read it once more. He placed the letter on the desk and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

The letter detailed many things.

It described Li Shan's curse, Xue Ji's brush with death, and Yun Ming's use of a Forbidden Technique to save her.

Shen Yizhi didn't specify exactly how much Lifespan Yun Ming had expended, for he could not tell.

However, he wrote that Yun Ming showed no signs of aging and that his vitality remained abundant. He noted his suspicion that Yun Ming had taken a beauty preserving pill, or perhaps even possessed the ability to refine them himself.

The Third Prince opened his eyes, picked up the letter again, and re-read that specific passage.

A beauty preserving pill.

A High Grade third-rank Medicinal Pill; while not exceedingly rare, it was certainly not cheap.

But that wasn't what Shen Yizhi was implying.

Shen Yizhi’s point was—could Yun Ming refine beauty preserving pills? If he truly could, it wasn't just about a single pill; it was a potential goldmine.

While such things offered no help to one's Cultivation, among circles of female cultivators, they sold even better than Xuan Ying Pills.

A high-quality beauty preserving pill could fetch an astronomical price.

Countless female Golden Core and Nascent Soul cultivators would spend a fortune without hesitation just to retain their youthful appearance.

If Yun Ming could refine them, it would provide the Third Prince with yet another source of wealth.

He thought for a moment and turned to the next page.

In the letter, Shen Yizhi also asked for instructions regarding Xue Ji.

He suggested keeping her by Yun Ming's side for observation, reasoning that both were now very important to the Third Prince.

The former was a Fourth-Rank Alchemist with an absurdly high success rate, making him a key figure in the Third Prince's logistical support.

The latter was the Second Prince's former favorite concubine. Having followed the Second Prince for a century, she surely knew many secrets.

After finishing the letter, the Third Prince flicked his fingers. A ball of flame rose from his palm, consuming the paper.

Ashes drifted through his fingers to the floor, only to be scattered by the wind.

He leaned back, gazing at the gray sky outside the window, and remained silent for a long time.

He was not like the Second Prince.

The Second Prince operated with thunderous methods: those who followed him prospered, while those who opposed him perished.

He didn't like that.

He hadn't liked it since he was a child.

He preferred to speak clearly and act transparently, making people follow him of their own free will.

His reputation in the imperial court was excellent, second only to the Crown Prince.

This wasn't because he was the strongest, but because he was the most reliable.

His subordinates, allies, and supporters all knew he wouldn't burn bridges or discard those who had served their purpose.

He didn't want to strain the relationship between Yun Ming and Xue Ji, nor did he want to put Shen Yizhi in a difficult position.

The Third Prince sat up straight, took a blank Jade Slip from a drawer, pressed it to his forehead, and began to record.

He wrote that regarding Yun Ming, everything should proceed as usual.

Materials would be sent, pills would be collected, and payment would be made.

Their attitude toward him must not change because of this incident.

He was a man worth befriending, not a tool to be manipulated at will.

He also wrote that regarding Xue Ji, as long as she didn't overstep, there was no need to interfere.

Her staying by Yun Ming's side was fine; it served as both observation and protection.

The Second Prince would not let the matter rest, and with her there, Yun Ming would be a bit safer.

As for the secrets she knew, there was no need to ask pointedly.

If she wanted to speak, she could; if not, so be it.

He had his own sources; he wasn't desperate for her information.

After finishing the recording, he put the Jade Slip away, summoned a guard, and ordered him to deliver it to Qingyao City overnight.

It was three days later when Shen Yizhi received the reply.

He was sitting in the study of the City Lord's Manor, a thick stack of official documents piled before him.

His health was poor, preventing him from working for long periods, but he handled some work every day—not much, but without fail.

He read the Third Prince's reply from start to finish, set it down, and the corners of his mouth curled slightly.

“As expected,” he murmured, then put the letter away and continued with his documents.

He did not go to disturb Yun Ming.

He knew Yun Ming had been busy lately.

Busy with Alchemy, busy telling stories to Xue Ji, and busy tending to her few stalks of Spirit Medicine.

Days passed as before—quiet, peaceful, and undisturbed.

Xue Ji's health improved day by day; her wrinkles faded, her hair turned black, her skin became fair, and her strength returned.

She could run and jump again, bicker with Yun Ming again, and pester him for stories again.

Yun Ming complained she was annoying, but every time she came to pester him, he would still tell them.

He told 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' recounting the remaining dozens of chapters.

He spoke slowly, telling only one chapter a day.

Xue Ji listened intently, sitting there in a daze, her eyes fixed on him without blinking.

The days went by one by one.

The various factions were all terrifyingly quiet.

On the Second Prince's side, there had been no movement since Li Shan's failed attempt to kill Xue Ji with a curse.

His army was still at the front, but the offensive had noticeably slowed, as if they were waiting for something, or perhaps fearing something.

The Third Prince's side didn't take the initiative to attack either.

He contracted his defensive lines, concentrating his forces in several key cities while watching for changes.

The two seemed to have an unspoken agreement; both were conserving their energy and waiting for the right moment.

And on the Imperial Court's side,

His Highness the Crown Prince made his move.

He didn't use armies; he used the hearts of the people.

He dispatched envoys carrying his personal letters to various provinces and cities, persuading those wavering factions to return their loyalty to the Imperial Court.

His letters were written with great sincerity, promising to let bygones be bygones, offering promotions and titles, and vowing to protect their interests.

Many people were swayed.

When the Second and Third Princes first rose in rebellion, these people had chosen sides because they had no other choice.

Now that the Crown Prince had stepped forward and offered a second path, they naturally had to consider it.

In just a few short months, the Second and Third Princes lost dozens of cities.

They weren't taken by force; they were persuaded to surrender.

Some garrison commanders led their armies to join the Imperial Court, some abandoned their cities and fled, and others opened their gates to welcome the Crown Prince's envoys.

Their territories were rapidly compressed, their military strength significantly weakened, and morale plummeted to an all-time low.

Yet some chose to remain by their side.

Those who had followed them from the start, those who had already staked their lives on them, and those who had irreconcilable grudges against the Imperial Court.

They knew that if the Crown Prince won, it would be their end.

So they could only follow the Second and Third Princes, committed to this path until the bitter end.

With the support of these people, they began to reorganize their armies, redeploy their forces, and bolster morale once more.

They knew the true decisive battle had yet to begin.

Although the Crown Prince’s methods were clever, his actual strength wasn't much greater than theirs.

The Imperial Court's armies were scattered across the provinces; the number of troops he could actually mobilize was limited.

If the two princes joined forces, they might still stand a chance in battle.

In Qingyao City, within Yun Ming's small courtyard.

Yun Ming lay on a bamboo chair, teacup in hand, with an Official Bulletin placed before him.

He flipped through it and saw the front-page headline: "His Highness the Crown Prince Reclaims Lost Cities; Second and Third Princes Retreat in Successive Defeats."

He glanced at it for a few moments, set the paper down, and took a sip of tea.

The tea was still the kind that cost a single copper per pot—bitter, astringent, and unpleasant. Xue Ji sat beside him, also holding a cup; she took a sip, frowned, and set it down.

“Can’t you brew some decent tea?” she said disdainfully.

Yun Ming glanced at her. “Want good tea? Brew it yourself. It’s in the cabinet inside; go get it.”

“Tell me,” she suddenly spoke up, “can the Crown Prince win?”

Yun Ming looked at her. “Why do you care about that?”

Xue Ji pouted. “Just asking.”

Yun Ming set down his teacup and leaned back, looking up at the gray sky.

“Who wins and who loses has nothing to do with me,” he said. “I’m just an alchemist. Whoever comes, I’ll refine pills. Whoever pays, I’ll sell. Whether they win or lose, as long as they don’t disturb me, it’s fine.”

Xue Ji looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then gave a soft “Mm.”

She didn't ask further, lowering her head to continue drinking that unpleasant tea.