129: Chapter 129 The Banquet of Immortals

Outside Wangxian Tower, it had long been surrounded by Jian Tanghuang's people like an iron barrel.

The cold light on the pauldrons of the Black Armor Guards flickered in the night, their presence heavy and steady as a mountain, making it impossible for even a bird to approach unnoticed.

But inside the tower, it was a completely different world.

In the top-floor private room, the carved lattice windows were covered with three layers of translucent shark silk, completely sealing out the late autumn chill and allowing only the warm glow of the candles to spill out, casting a soft, warm orange hue on the window paper.

On the table, jade liquid filled the cups.

The amber-colored "Immortal's Drunkenness" swayed gently in the luminous cups, shimmering with a luster as moist and smooth as jade; even the beads of condensation on the cup walls exuded an air of nobility.

Delicacies were laid out, so exquisite they seemed not of the mortal realm, each dish crafted with painstaking effort.

This display was more than just a notch above Lanyue Tower.

It was clearly Jian Tanghuang putting in all her effort to pave the way for her Senior Brother's "reputation."

Xuanyuan Zhanxian sat at the head of the table.

The dark patterns on his black robes shimmered under the candlelight, making his figure appear even more imposing. His brows held a hint of nonchalance, and his fingertips occasionally tapped the table, yet he possessed an inherent majesty that made people afraid to look directly at him.

On his left, Jian Tanghuang's eyes curved into crescents. The silver pot in her hand remained poised above his cup, and whenever the wine level dipped, she would immediately refill it.

The intimacy and concern in her eyes could not be hidden, nor did they need to be.

On his right, Chu Zhanxiao was dressed in ink-colored martial attire, silent as a boulder.

Commander Yingsha and Shadow Guard Ying Yue stood quietly three steps behind Xuanyuan Zhanxian, like two shadows soaked in the night, their presence so restrained it was nearly non-existent.

Yet if anyone were to make the slightest unusual movement, those hands hanging at their sides would instantly become lethal blades.

"Today, thank you all for gracing me with your presence."

Xuanyuan Zhanxian raised his cup. His voice was not loud, yet it fell clearly into everyone's ears, carrying a power that seemed to pierce through their hearts.

"This cup is for you, Fellow Daoists."

Everyone hurriedly stood up to raise their cups, their movements so synchronized it was almost robotic, and they couldn't help but hold their breath.

Some had eyes filled with awe, their fingertips trembling slightly; others had burning gazes, fixed tightly on him; still others quietly observed his expression, attempting to glimpse deeper thoughts from his calm, unruffled face.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian downed the wine in his cup in one gulp.

As the liquid slid down his throat, he did not even twitch an eyebrow. His gaze slowly swept across the gathering, his expression remaining calm:

"Most of you here are the young talents of Great Wu."

"Gathering here today, we shall dispense with empty formalities and avoid discussing state affairs."

"Everyone, just enjoy yourselves."

As his voice faded, the tense atmosphere in the private room relaxed slightly.

The faint sounds of cups clinking and chopsticks touching plates began to rise, yet that invisible tension still permeated the air.

Everyone understood—the more nonchalant Xuanyuan Zhanxian appeared, the less simple this banquet truly was.

Being able to share a table with the Great Wu's legitimate Prince and the Divine Martial Eldest Princess was, in itself, a silent "signal."

It was a ladder, and also a choice.

"Your Highness is generous!"

Tuoba Ye was the first to break the silence. He let out a hearty laugh, his voice like a booming bell, causing the wine in the cups to ripple slightly.

He poured himself a full cup and drank it down boldly, not caring as the wine trickled down the corner of his mouth, simply wiping it away with his sleeve:

"Old Tuo won't stand on ceremony! I've long heard that this 'Immortal's Drunkenness' has a strong kick; today I'm determined to drink my fill!"

This unmasked, genuine temperament acted like a stream of fresh water, diluting the stagnation.

The crowd was no longer reserved and began to use their chopsticks. Cups and chopsticks crossed, and the fragrance of food filled the air.

The gloom of Lanyue Tower seemed to have been completely sealed off in the heavy night outside the window.

Meanwhile, deep within the imperial palace, in the Imperial Study.

The lights were blazing.

More than a dozen coiled-dragon candles were burning brightly, their flames dancing and illuminating the massive map on the wall with absolute clarity.

The mountains, rivers, cities, and passes marked in cinnabar, and even the locations of the witch shrines deep within the Southern Frontier's miasma forests, were densely packed and clear at a glance.

Emperor Wu Tianba of Great Wu had not slept.

He was dressed in black casual robes, standing before the map with his hands behind his back. The dark gold dragon patterns on his clothing swayed slightly with his movements, yet they could not conceal the majesty of one who had long held the highest position.

His gaze was heavy, locked onto the region in the Southern Frontier marked "Dense Miasma Forests, Ancestral Witches Occupy." His brows furrowed slightly as his fingertips unconsciously rubbed against the rough parchment.

Suddenly—

A blurred figure appeared silently behind him like a ghost.

It did not stir even a breeze, and not even the candle flames flickered.

The person knelt on one knee, their black attire almost blending into the shadows of the Imperial Study; it was the leader of the Imperial Secret Guards.

He kept his head lowered, his breathing suppressed to be extremely light, like a stone statue.

"Speak."

Emperor Wu Tianba's voice was low and hoarse, carrying the weight accumulated by time and authority.

He did not turn around, his gaze still locked on the map, yet he had accurately captured the newcomer's presence.

"Reporting to Your Majesty."

The Secret Guard leader's voice was devoid of emotion, like someone stating a matter unrelated to himself, as he slowly recounted everything that had happened at Lanyue Tower and Wangxian Tower, detailing every single point.

From Xuanyuan Zhanxian's composure upon stepping into Lanyue Tower, to the bloodshed of Third Prince Wu Huang's Guardian being crippled, to that sentence, "The person was not chosen very appropriately"... the expressions of the guests, Wu Yuanchen's disarray—not a single word was omitted.

When he heard, "The person was not chosen very appropriately"—

Emperor Wu Tianba's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. It was as if he had been lightly stung by something tiny.

A complex emotion flashed in his eyes—gratification, melancholy, and a trace of deeply hidden nostalgia.

He sighed softly. That sigh carried an indescribable sense of loss:

"As expected of her son..."

"His style of conduct is exactly like hers."

"So decisive, leaving no room for negotiation..."

"He wouldn't even give half a shred of face."

When he said the word "her," his voice subconsciously softened, as if afraid of disturbing some long-dormant dream.

In his tone, there was a gentleness that had been worn thin by time but had never dissipated.

But that gentleness was instantly swallowed by bitterness:

"If back then... I had had his courage, had not hesitated, and had not been tied down by the entanglements of the court..."

"Would things have been different?"

"Would she... not have..."

The rest of his words stopped abruptly. It was as if something had forcefully blocked his throat, and he could not utter another syllable.

Inside the Imperial Study, the air suddenly became heavy. Even the faint sound of the candle flames crackling seemed exceptionally clear.

The Secret Guard leader remained kneeling, holding his breath and focusing, not daring to move even his fingertips—he knew that the "her" His Majesty mentioned at this moment was the deepest taboo in the palace.

It was that woman... who was stunningly talented many years ago, but ultimately passed away—Xuanyuan Qing'er.

The coldness and decisiveness that woman left behind in the deep palace remained an old matter that the elderly palace servants dared not easily touch even today.

Emperor Wu Tianba's gaze became distant. It was as if he had pierced through the walls of the Imperial Study, through layers of time, and returned to many years ago.

At that time, he was not yet the absolute ruler of Great Wu, but merely a prince restricted at every turn.

At that time, Xuanyuan Qing'er was still in the palace.

Dressed in white, holding a book, she stood quietly under the corridor watching the snow.

Snowflakes fell on her hair and shoulders, yet she was completely unaware, focused only on the pages of the book.

That cold and focused figure was still clearly etched deep in his mind to this day.

But those images had ultimately become smoke and mist. Only full of regret remained, like a thin needle, occasionally pricking his heart with pain.

"Forget it."

Emperor Wu Tianba waved his hand abruptly, as if to completely dispel the surging emotions. But the melancholy in his eyes could not be brushed away no matter what.

His tone returned to the calmness and decisiveness of an emperor:

"What other movements are there from Wu Yuanchen's side?"

"After returning to his manor, the Second Prince immediately summoned his strategist, 'Mr. Ghost Face,' and the two have remained behind closed doors ever since. During this time, the Second Prince's manor has activated all its defensive Formations, isolating all Qi, and the secret agents I sent... were unable to get close, so I do not know the specifics."

The Secret Guard leader reported truthfully, his voice steady and without waves.

"Ghost Face..."

A flash of undisguised disgust crossed Emperor Wu Tianba's eyes, his brows furrowed tighter, his knuckles turning white from the force:

"A person who hides his head and shows his tail, specializing in using crooked paths to bewitch people and sow discord."

"For Wu Yuanchen to associate with him... his vision has ultimately fallen to a lower standard."

"He will not achieve greatness."

He pondered for a moment, his fingertips tapping lightly behind his back, creating a rhythmic sound.

A moment later, he looked up, his gaze sharp once again:

"Pass on my order—"

"Increase the Secret Guards threefold and strictly monitor the Second Prince's manor. Pay particular attention to his connections with the Tai Miao Ancestral Witches."

"Report any trace of activity immediately, without delay."

At this point, he paused. His gaze fell upon Xuanyuan Zhanxian's fief on the map, and his tone softened unconsciously:

"As for Xuanyuan Zhanxian..."

"As long as he does not do anything out of line and does not shake the Foundation of the Imperial Dynasty..."

"Then let him be."

"Since that Revered Master behind him has not truly intervened in court affairs for many years, I assume he has no intention of doing so."

"For now..."

"We shall just wait and see."

The candle flames danced, stretching his shadow on the wall very long.

This shadow was slightly hunched, as if bearing a weight that no one else knew of.