79: Chapter 79 Imperial Mausoleum

Princess Xia Zhiqing felt a chill slowly rise from the bottom of her heart.

The chill was light and faint, yet it felt like an extremely fine ice needle, creeping up her spine inch by inch, crawling over every vertebra, piercing through every inch of skin, and finally dispersing into her limbs, leaving even her fingertips tinged with cold.

Yet this chill did not make her feel even a shred of fear.

Instead, it was like a timely rain—pouring down upon her, extinguishing the emotions that had previously been wrapped in anxiety and panic, and dousing those pointless fears and uneasiness.

It left behind only the clarity of being awakened.

It left behind only a vigilance that seeped into her very marrow.

She suddenly realized—

How naive and ridiculous she had been, fixating solely on surface-level crises like "Great Wu exerting pressure" or "Dark Abyss infiltration"!

She hadn't seen that beneath those layers of appearances, there might be more complex schemes and even more terrifying players hiding.

She was like a fly trapped in a spiderweb, seeing only the sticky threads before her, but failing to see the spider hiding in the darkness, slowly closing in.

She stood up solemnly.

Her movements were slow and steady, as if every inch of her bones was recalibrating and every muscle was gathering strength.

She bowed deeply to Chu Changsheng once more.

This time, she bent her waist even lower—so low that the collar of her moon-white palace dress almost touched her knees, so low that she could see her own fingertips trembling slightly from tension, and so low that she could feel how heavy and deep her heart was beating in her chest.

Her posture was full of respect and gratitude.

Her voice also carried a trace of the clarity of one who had survived a disaster—a clarity like that of someone who had just surfaced from deep water, gasping for air, and seeing the sky above for the first time:

"Many thanks to the Grand Elder for the guidance! Only today has Zhiqing truly cleared away the fog. I was previously blinded by appearances and nearly led astray. In the future, I will think thrice before acting and carefully examine every clue—never again will I look only at the surface, nor will I be easily swayed by emotions."

Chu Changsheng nodded slightly.

A trace of imperceptible approval flashed in his eyes—the approval was faint, as faint as moonlight falling on the water, fleeting, yet enough to warm Princess Xia Zhiqing's heart.

"It is good that you understand."

His voice was as calm as water, yet every word carried the weight of a thousand jun:

"The path must ultimately be walked by you, and the storms ahead must be crossed by you. The Xuantian Sect can shield you from the wind and rain for a time and protect your safety for a while, but it cannot discern all directions for you, nor can it bear all your choices—"

He paused, his gaze falling on her face. The gaze was gentle yet profound, as if it could see into the deepest weaknesses and strengths of a person's heart:

"After all, you are the Eldest Princess of Great Xia. The responsibility for this land must eventually be shouldered by you."

"Go."

Princess Xia Zhiqing took a deep breath.

She engraved every piece of advice from Chu Changsheng deep in her heart as if carving it into stone—carving it into her flesh, into her bones, into the depths of her Soul, not daring to forget even a fraction.

She looked down at the teacup in her hand.

The warm sensation came through the porcelain wall, warming her palm.

But that warmth was no longer just simple warmth.

It had settled into a heavy sense of responsibility and a clear realization—she was no longer the princess who only needed to rely on the Sect's protection and hide behind her elders.

She was no longer the girl who could hide in someone's arms seeking protection when the wind and rain came.

She was the one who had to find the path in the maze.

She was the one who had to steer Great Xia.

"Zhiqing takes her leave."

She turned and exited the Bamboo Garden.

Her steps were steadier than when she arrived—every step was firm, every step was solid, and every step seemed to leave a mark on the bluestone slabs.

When she looked back at the quiet courtyard surrounded by bamboo shadows, her gaze was completely different.

There was no longer any previous hesitation or uncertainty.

Only the clarity after insight into the truth remained.

Only the determination to forge ahead remained.

A gentle breeze still brushed through the bamboo forest, stirring up small bamboo leaves that rustled, "swish, swish," like time whispering in her ears.

The bamboo fragrance was still refreshing, with a faint, elusive sweetness in its crispness, like wine brewed by time.

But Princess Xia Zhiqing knew—

From this moment on, the road ahead was no longer just about national enmity or personal grudges.

It was a maze that required extreme wisdom, twelve-fold caution, and enough patience to deal with.

Every step could lead into a trap, every choice could concern life and death, and every turn could face the blade.

She clenched her hand in her sleeve.

Her fingertips touched the coldness of the bronze token in her bosom—the chill seeped through her clothing, like a fine needle pricking her heart, making her even more clear-headed, even calmer, and even... more fearless.

Moonlight fell upon her.

It stretched her figure long and thin, casting it onto the bluestone slabs, lonely yet standing straight.

She walked step by step out of the shadows of the palace path, out of the peace surrounded by high walls, and toward the path ahead full of unknowns and waves, walking firmly—

Even if there were mountains of blades and seas of fire ahead, she had to keep walking.

Because behind her were the vast lands of Great Xia, the safety of thousands of common people, the three-hundred-year Legacy of the nation, and countless expectant eyes.

Because she was the Eldest Princess of Great Xia.

Because for this land, apart from her, no one else could carry it.

Deep within the Imperial Mausoleum of Great Xia.

A sinister wind howled.

The wind, carrying dust from a thousand years, swirled and roared in the deep, dark corridor, making a "woo-woo" sound, like the whispers of ancient spirits, like countless dead Souls wailing in the darkness.

Every wisp of wind carried the unique decaying scent of the tomb and the heaviness accumulated over the years.

The torchlight swayed violently in the wind.

Flickering on and off, it cast the Dragon Cavalry battle murals carved on the stone walls on both sides in a mysterious and unpredictable light—those reliefs of armored warriors holding spears, some with wide, angry eyes, some thrusting their spears, some roaring at the sky, as if they would rush down from the stone walls at any moment to recreate the glory of the battlefield from three hundred years ago.

And in this swaying light and shadow, the Killing Intent that had not dissipated for three hundred years was revealed.

Several generals dressed in gilded iron armor stood quietly in the center of the main hall.

They stood straight, like spears thrust into the ground. The Dragon-patterned scales on their armor shone with a cold, hard luster under the torchlight—each scale seemed to have been soaked in the blood of the battlefield from that year, each seemed to have been stained by the wails of enemies, and each was silently telling of three hundred years of silence and waiting.

The Golden Core Realm pressure exuding from their bodies was like an invisible iron wall, crushing people so they couldn't breathe.

Even the dust in the air seemed to be frozen by that pressure, suspended in mid-air, motionless. Even the torchlight seemed to be suppressed by that pressure, not daring to dance wantonly, and could only burn in an orderly manner.

The leading general had broad shoulders and a thick back, as steady as a mountain.

The coiled Dragon pattern on the chest of his golden armor was more intricate than the others—nine coiled Dragons intertwined, and between the patterns, it seemed that the unspent battle Qi still lingered, and the sounds of slaughter from that year still echoed.

The aura around him was as deep and condensed as a deep pool; he was impressively already at the Golden Core Late Stage Peak, only one step away from the Nascent Soul Realm.

Once that step was taken, it would be another realm.

Once that step was taken, with a wave of his hand, he could shake mountains; with a turn of his hand, he could cover the rain and clouds.

The gaze of this Dragon Cavalry commander was like a blade quenched in cold—cold, sharp, and carrying the fierceness and Killing Intent of one long experienced in battle.

That gaze was firmly locked onto the half of the bronze token exposed in Princess Xia Zhiqing's bosom.

The edge of the token was carved with the totem of the ancient mythical beast Taotie. Although only a corner was exposed, and only half of its blood-thirsty maw could be seen, it exuded a majesty that made one's heart tighten—that majesty was like a mountain pressing down, like the gaze of an abyss, like the pressure descended from an ancient deity, as if it could devour all surrounding auras and make all living things bow down in submission.

A complex light first flashed in his eyes.

In that light, there was hesitation regarding the three-hundred-year-old rules—for three hundred years, no Token Envoy had ever set foot here; there was reverence for the ancient token—the Taotie totem was the mark left by the ancestors and the meaning of the Dragon Cavalry's existence; there was scrutiny of the "Token Envoy" identity—could this seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl really shoulder the future of Great Xia?

Then—he suddenly knelt on one knee!

"Thud!"

The moment the golden armor collided with the bluestone floor, it made a dull, loud sound!

The loud sound echoed in the empty main hall, shaking the accumulated dust in the hall so it fell with a rustle, like a gray rain; it shook the torchlight so it flickered violently, as if it would go out at any moment; it shook Princess Xia Zhiqing's heart, causing it to jump heavily as well!

"The humble general, Dragon Cavalry Commander Xia Feng, pays respects to the Token Envoy!"

That voice was like a great bell, exploding in the hall!

The other golden-armored generals moved in perfect unison, kneeling immediately after him—the crisp sound of armor colliding merged into one, "clatter, clatter," like a torrent of iron pouring down. There was no dragging, no hesitation, carrying the Killing Intent and obedience in a soldier's bones, and the loyalty and vows unchanged for three hundred years:

"Pays respects to the Token Envoy!"

Princess Xia Zhiqing looked at this group of Dragon Cavalry who seemed to have walked out of history, her heart trembling violently!

A Golden Core Late Stage Peak commander!

Several Golden Core Realm generals capable of handling things on their own!

Such combat power capable of overturning a region, such strength capable of sweeping through thousands of troops, had actually been silent in the Imperial Mausoleum for three hundred years—like a forgotten sharp sword, sealed in its scabbard, never showing its edge to the world; like a sleeping tiger, lurking in the shadows, never showing its fangs to the world.

She took a deep breath.

This breath was taken very deeply, very deeply, as if she wanted to inhale all the pressure accumulated in this hall for three hundred years into her chest and turn it all into her own strength.

She slowly took out the bronze token from her bosom.

She held it high above her head.

Just at this moment—a ray of moonlight shone down through a hole in the roof of the hall!

The moonlight was like silver gauze, like a white silk ribbon, falling precisely on the token, making the Taotie totem emit a cold, eerie light.

The mythical beast's eyes seemed to open suddenly under the moonlight, revealing ancient ferocity, revealing ancient majesty, as if it were scrutinizing these descendants from three hundred years later to see if they were still worthy of its protection.

"Commander Xia, please rise."

Princess Xia Zhiqing spoke.

Although her voice was light, it carried an unquestionable majesty—the majesty was like jade striking bronze, crisp, cold, and clearly transmitted into the ears of every Dragon Cavalry member, and into the deepest parts of their hearts:

"Three hundred years ago, our ancestors established the Dragon Cavalry to protect the Foundation of Great Xia and stabilize the prosperity of the nation, allowing our Great Xia to stand firm in the Southern Region; three hundred years later—"

Her voice suddenly rose, like a bugle, like war drums:

"The forces of the Dark Abyss are crawling out from underground, eyeing the Luck of our Great Xia; the imperial court of Great Xia is in internal chaos, the cultivation world is in turmoil, and internal and external troubles are tangled into a dead knot—this is precisely the time for the Dragon Cavalry to unsheathe their blades and protect the nation once again!"

As her voice fell, the hall was dead silent.

Only the "crackling" sound of the torches burning was exceptionally clear in the silence.

Commander Xia Feng stood up.

The Dragon patterns on his golden armor flowed with dark light under the torchlight; the light was eerie, like a sleeping dragon being awakened, slowly opening its eyes.

His brows knitted into a deep " river" shape—that line was carved on his forehead, carving the stubbornness of three hundred years of Legacy, and the belief that had not wavered for three hundred years.

He said in a deep voice, the sound squeezing out from his chest, carrying the sound of metal and stone:

"The humble general understands the intent of the Token Envoy. However... escorting a distinguished guest?"

There was a trace of imperceptible doubt hidden in his words.

The doubt was very light, yet it was like a thorn, pricking into this solemn air.

His voice was kept very low, but it carried the stubbornness carved by three hundred years of rules—the Dragon Cavalry had guarded the Imperial Mausoleum for three hundred years, never touching the miscellaneous affairs of the imperial court, never dealing with worldly disputes, let alone escorting outsiders.

This did not conform to the ancestral teachings, did not conform to the rules, and did not conform to the vows that generations of Dragon Cavalry had guarded with their lives for three hundred years.

Princess Xia Zhiqing's gaze slowly swept across Commander Xia Feng and the generals behind him.

The gaze was as calm as water, yet deep and bottomless.

She was not angry, nor impatient.

Instead, she nodded slightly.

"Commander Xia, feel free to speak your mind."

Her tone was as calm as if she were talking about an ordinary small matter, her fingertips gently rubbing the edge of the bronze token—the coldness of the token seeped through her fingertips and into her heart, making her even more composed and even more at ease:

"The Dragon Cavalry has guarded the Imperial Mausoleum for three hundred years; adhering to the rules is a duty, and even more so, a loyalty to the ancestors. But the current situation is more dangerous than the battlefield three hundred years ago; crises are hidden in every step, every step could lead to a misstep, and every step could lead to falling into an abyss. If you have any concerns, just say them out; there is no need to hide them."

Commander Xia Feng looked up.

His Adam's apple under the golden armor rolled heavily—the rolling was slow and deep, as if he were swallowing some unspeakable words.

His voice was deeper than before, so deep it seemed to be squeezed from the depths of his chest, so deep it seemed to be pressing under a thousand-catty burden:

"The humble general is not questioning the Token Envoy's decision. It is just—"

He paused, his gaze like a torch:

"The Dragon Cavalry oath has long been carved into our bones—'The Great Xia Dragon Cavalry only protects the Great Xia capital and must not leave the Great Xia Imperial Mausoleum unless necessary.' For three hundred years, from the first generation of Dragon Cavalry to us, no one has ever broken this rule."

The generals behind him nodded one after another.

The nodding movement was uniform, like one person.

Their eyes were as solemn as if facing the ancestral spirit tablets, without a shred of wavering, without a shred of hesitation.

Their golden armor shone with cold light under the torchlight, like silent mountains, like eternal rocks, guarding the vows that had not changed for three hundred years, guarding the faith that had not wavered for three hundred years.

The hall fell into a brief silence.

Only the "crackling" sound of the torches burning was exceptionally clear in the silence.

Princess Xia Zhiqing's gaze slowly swept across Commander Xia Feng and the generals behind him.

Her fingertips paused for a moment on the cold bronze token.

Then—she was not angry.

Instead, she nodded slightly.

The nodding movement was very light, yet it carried an unexpected composure and understanding.

"Commander Xia adheres to the ancestral teachings and remembers the vows; this loyalty—"

As she spoke, her voice was clear and steady, carrying a power that could penetrate people's hearts, like a beam of light shining into this deep hall:

"Zhiqing admires it."

First, stabilize the other party's position.

First, acknowledge the other party's loyalty.

Then—she gently turned the conversation.

The turn was very light and slow, like a stream winding around rocks, like a breeze brushing through a bamboo forest. But her gaze, in this turn, became as sharp as a knife!

"But may I ask, Commander Xia—"

She articulated clearly, every word like iron:

"The Dragon Cavalry oath says 'protect the Great Xia capital'; what exactly are you protecting?"

She paused, and without waiting for Commander Xia Feng to answer, she continued to press, her voice getting higher and higher, more and more sharp:

"Is it that city surrounded by high walls, or the common people in the city? Is it the national destiny of Great Xia, or the Bloodline passed down from our ancestors?"

She took a step forward, her gaze like lightning, looking straight into Commander Xia Feng's eyes:

"'Must not leave the Imperial Mausoleum unless necessary'—what is the purpose of these three words, 'unless necessary'?"

She took another step forward, her voice exploding like thunder:

"Is it to let you hide in the Imperial Mausoleum, living in ease and comfort, watching Great Xia perish? Or is it to let you, at the moment of real danger, strike without any worries, kill the enemy without any scruples, and protect this land conquered by our ancestors with overwhelming force?!"

As her voice fell, the hall was dead silent.

The torchlight swayed violently, casting everyone's shadows on the stone wall, sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes bright, sometimes dark, like a group of silent Souls, witnessing the questioning and choice of this moment.

Commander Xia Feng froze in place.

The generals behind him also froze.

Moonlight shone down through the hole in the roof of the hall, falling on the bronze token held high by Princess Xia Zhiqing, falling on the hideous fangs of the Taotie totem, and falling into her eyes that were as firm as cold stars.

In those eyes—

There was the clarity after insight into the truth.

There was the resolution to shoulder the land.

And a trace of unquestionable majesty.