90: Chapter 90 The Emperor's Forbearance

Emperor Wu Tianba knew clearly.

From the moment that calm yet fatal question sounded from the other party's mouth, this audience today had become like a wild horse that had broken its reins, completely escaping the trajectory he had carefully laid out, galloping toward an abyss he could neither predict nor control!

He could even hear the sound of hoofbeats shattering the schemes and layouts he was so proud of, potentially overturning the entire empire he had painstakingly managed at any moment!

Continue to intimidate?

His gaze swept over the calm, rippleless eyes of the person standing below the steps. Deep in those eyes, there was not a shred of awe for imperial power, not a hint of fear for absolute authority, only a bottomless tranquility and a kind of... understanding after seeing through everything. The Dao Heart of this child was firm, absolutely not to be destroyed by threats.

Resort to violence?

This thought had just arisen before he extinguished it himself.

Not to mention the understated yet unfathomable method the other party had used just now to neutralize his Mahayana pressure, which had made his heart shudder.

The mere fact that there were possibly two Mahayana Cultivators behind him, capable of standing on equal footing—or even surpassing—him, was enough to make him wary and dare not act rashly.

Once he made a move, it would be a fight to the death. A lose-lose situation was the best outcome; it was more likely that the snipe and the clam would fight, allowing the forces watching from inside and outside the court to take advantage of the situation and tear the Great Wu Foundation to shreds!

Furthermore... this conversation in the Imperial Study today was heart-piercing with every word, taboo in every sentence.

If he could not completely suppress and silence him with thunderous speed, even if a single word leaked out— "The imperial consort's death has a hidden story," "The Emperor stood by and watched back then," "The prince returned to the Dynasty only to seek revenge and question the crime"... stitching these fragments together would be enough to set off a storm that would sweep through everything in the court!

The imperial majesty he had painstakingly managed for years, which could not afford to be lost, and this seemingly impregnable ruling Foundation would all be teetering on the edge in this storm.

At that time, his fall from the Supreme position to being pointed at by thousands would happen in the blink of an eye.

Silence.

A deathly silence, like the thickest, dirtiest ink dropped into water that was already stagnant, spread and diffused in the Imperial Study, swallowing the last trace of sound.

A suffocating sense of oppression, wrapped in cold despair, coiled around the necks of everyone in the hall, making even breathing difficult and luxurious, as if their lungs were being tightly gripped by invisible hands.

Only the "crackling" of the candle fire occasionally seemed unusually harsh in this deathly silence.

The flickering firelight cast the two confronting figures in the hall onto the huge Dragon wall, elongated and distorted, like two primordial Vicious Beasts silently wrestling in the darkness.

One stood before the Dragon throne, symbolizing Supreme power, his figure slightly hunched due to intense emotional fluctuations, his forced majesty unable to conceal the dishevelment, his fingertips still stained with dark red blood that had not been completely wiped away.

The other stood quietly in the center of the hall, his expression like an ancient well without ripples, his figure straight as a pine, yet his whole body was surrounded by an invisible, sharp edge like a drawn divine sword. His calm gaze swept over, seemingly able to dissect all pretense and reach the naked truth.

This silent contest had no clash of metal, no flying flesh and blood, but it was a hundred times more dangerous than any battlefield slaughter or Sect bloody battle!

Every inch of air was filled with invisible swords and blades.

Every clash of gazes was comparable to the collision of Divine Abilities. Every second of heart-stopping silence was brewing a more terrifying, unpredictable storm, waiting only for a tiny spark to ignite it completely, stirring the surface calm of the Great Wu Dynasty, along with the turbulent undercurrents beneath it, into chaos!

Time seemed to have passed for a hundred years.

Finally, Emperor Wu Tianba seemed to have been drained of all his strength by an invisible giant hand, even every breath was as heavy as pulling a bellows filled with lead blocks.

His hands, which once held the universe and turned clouds and rain, were trembling slightly at this moment, holding onto the cold armrests of the Dragon throne.

His legs seemed to have lost all support, uncontrollably softening and trembling. Every inch he moved downward felt like it had exhausted his remaining energy and dignity, until finally, he slumped heavily back into that large, cold Dragon throne.

The East Pearls and jade inlaid on the armrests were cold to the touch, the chill piercing through the bright yellow Dragon robe, reaching his skin, but it could not cool the raging waves in his heart that were almost swallowing him!

Exhaustion, an exhaustion that went deep into the bone marrow and originated from the depths of his Soul, swept over him like a tide. That was the dishevelment and weakness exposed to the light of day after the imperial majesty was ruthlessly torn apart and the carefully crafted disguise was completely stripped away.

However, beneath that heavy exhaustion, deep in his eyes, a deeper, colder chill settled, like a cold pool condensed from ten thousand years of black ice, which even the most intense sunlight could not penetrate or warm.

He slowly raised the hand whose knuckles were white from excessive force and whose veins had not yet faded, and waved it powerlessly.

The movement was slow, revealing a dejection of exhaustion.

When he spoke, his voice was as hoarse as if it had been repeatedly polished by rough sandpaper, dry, broken, and revealing an indifferent coldness that made one's heart turn cold after deliberate suppression, as if he were dealing with a trivial matter unrelated to himself:

"... Enough."

Two words, falling lightly, yet heavier than a thousand catties.

"Since you have made up your mind, I..." He paused, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty, "will not force you."

His gaze slowly lifted, crossing the messy memorials and the imperial seal on the floor, landing on Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

This gaze was as deep as an ancient well of a thousand years, bottomless, calm and rippleless, only hiding a trace of almost imperceptible, cold warning in the deepest part, like a venomous snake lurking at the bottom of the well, ready to strike and bite at any moment:

"The position of the prince of Great Wu, I will keep it for you. You want a truth? Fine. I... allow you to investigate."

His voice suddenly lowered, every word seeming to be squeezed out of a crack in the ice, carrying a chill that seeped into the bone marrow:

"But I want to remind you, kid, some truths... are wrapped in deadly poison, buried with white bones, and often accompanied by dangers you cannot imagine, let alone bear. I hope that when that time comes... you will not regret today's choice."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your consideration."

Xuanyuan Zhanxian bowed again, performing the ritual. The movement was still as standard as the model set by the Ministry of Rites, and the arc of his robe fluttering was impeccably precise.

His tone was calm and rippleless, as if he had not heard the turbulent undercurrents and chilling threats beneath those plain words at all, as if the other party were just an ordinary elder, admonishing a Junior to be careful when going out.

"If there is nothing else, Zhanxian will take his leave."

Emperor Wu Tianba did not speak again.

He just closed his eyes extremely exhaustedly and slowly.

Long eyelashes cast a faint shadow under his eyelids, trembling slightly, as if even looking at the other party one more time required immense effort; or as if he were trying his best to conceal the remnant panic and dishevelment deep in his eyes after being completely hit in his sore spot.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian did not linger, turning around decisively.

The wide sleeves of his black Dao robe drew a cold and calm arc in the air, without any nostalgia, without a trace of hesitation. He walked calmly, steadily, and forcefully, step by step, toward the vermilion gate of the Imperial Study that symbolized imperial authority.

The back figure, straight as a lone peak, was drawn very long under the dim light of the palace lanterns, carrying a kind of forward-moving determination.

Just like this, step by step, he walked out of this suffocating imperial Domain full of power struggles and bloody secrets, as if the vortex behind him that could swallow everything and the imperial thunderous anger were nothing but a breeze brushing over the mountain top, having nothing to do with him anymore.

"Tap."

"Tap."

"Tap."

The footsteps faded away, finally disappearing at the end of the long corridor deep in the palace.

Until the black figure was completely swallowed by the darkness and the light outside the hall returned to normal, Emperor Wu Tianba's tightly closed eyes suddenly opened!

Where was there any trace of the previous exhaustion and dejection in these eyes?

Only the monstrous rage that was as scorching as a volcanic eruption, almost burning the Eight Desolations!

And a chilling, bone-piercing murderous intent, colder than polar black ice!

These two extremely opposing emotions intertwined and collided crazily in his eyes, making the surrounding air seem to condense into countless invisible, sharp ice blades, cutting through the Void Realm, emitting a silent scream!

"Boom—!!!"

He slammed his fist with no reservation onto the incomparably hard Dragon desk in front of him!

A dull, heart-stopping loud noise shook the entire Imperial Study, causing it to tremble!

All the candle flames on the desk flickered wildly, uncertain, illuminating the hall with distorted light and shadow, like a ghost realm!

That Dragon desk, meticulously crafted from thousand-year cold iron wood, which was said to be able to withstand the bombardment of Magic Treasures and symbolized the stability of imperial power, actually emitted a series of tooth-aching cracking sounds under this angry punch, and then... shattered inch by inch!

Wood chips exploded like dust, flying, and finally turned into powder all over the floor!

The imperial seal on the desk and the mountain of memorials fell to the ground with a clatter, making a chaotic and harsh sound, completely breaking the deathly silence in the hall.

"Investigate!"

Emperor Wu Tianba squeezed a word out through his gritted teeth at the empty Imperial Study where only he stood.

The voice was cold and hoarse, like an bone-eroding cold wind blowing from the Nine Netherworlds, carrying undisguised bloody scent:

"Investigate thoroughly for me! How much does he know! And who—! Had the guts to leak the news under my nose!!!"

He knew it as clearly as a mirror—Xuanyuan Zhanxian had not been back in the capital for long, and this was his first time entering the palace.

If someone hadn't revealed it secretly and added fuel to the fire, it would be impossible for him to touch that secret that had been buried so deeply back then so accurately.

Behind this, there must be a black hand, or even more than one, that he had not noticed!

And this kind of mysterious, ill-intentioned force that could bypass his heavy surveillance to pass information was precisely the hidden danger he, as an Emperor, feared most and would never tolerate!

How can one allow others to snore beside one's bed? Any potential danger that could threaten his Supreme power must be uprooted and ground into powder, with no leeway left!

In the corner of the Imperial Study, in the thickest shadow, the air twisted slightly.

A figure, blurred to the point of almost merging with the darkness, emerged quietly like a ghost.

He knelt on both knees silently, kowtowed deeply toward Emperor Wu Tianba, his forehead pressed tightly against the cold gold bricks, even the faintest breathing sound completely restrained.

Then, without waiting for any order, the figure merged back into the shadow as silently as he had appeared, disappearing without a trace, as if he had never existed.

Emperor Wu Tianba stood alone in the ruins of the messy hall that symbolized the crumbling of power. His chest heaved violently, his breathing heavy like a wounded Vicious Beast trapped in an iron cage, every breath carrying a bloody smell.

His eyes changed unpredictably, sometimes igniting with a violent murderous intent that could burn everything, wishing to immediately drag out the leaker and tear them into pieces.

Sometimes falling into deep, gloomy calculation, weighing various forces, and thinking about how to regain control of this out-of-control chess game.

Sometimes a complex and obscure dark light flashed, and deep in that light, perhaps hidden were emotions he himself would not admit or could not clarify—is it regret for the past?

Is it a remnant thought of that woman?

Or is it a mixture of fear, anger, and a hint of unspeakable... shock toward this now out-of-control "son"?

He stared fixedly at the closed palace gate, his gaze sharp as a falcon, as if he wanted to pierce through the heavy vermilion gate and the long palace path, locking onto the black figure that had already gone far away.

"Xuanyuan Zhanxian... Wu Zhanxian..." He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse, with a kind of gnashing-teeth cruelty, every word seemed to be ground out from between his teeth, "Qing'er... you really did... give birth to a 'good son' for me back then!"

By the end, the corners of his mouth slowly and eerily raised, hooking into a cold and crazy smile.

There was no warmth in this smile, only endless calculation, conspiracy, and a kind of almost paranoid desire for control, like a strange flower with deadly poison blooming suddenly in the dark abyss:

"Since you insist on... jumping into this vortex of power on your own, tearing open this calm mask..."

"Then I will go with the flow and 'help' you!"

...

Outside the palace gate, the moonlight was like water.

The cold silver radiance poured down from the Nine Heavens, spilling evenly on the bluestone imperial road that was as smooth as a mirror, as if paving it with a thin layer of frost glowing with cold light.

The evening breeze blew gently, curling the bright yellow banners on the palace walls, making a "hunting" sound, which, in this silent deep palace night, instead set off a heart-palpitating tranquility.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian stepped slowly out of the palace gate that symbolized Supreme power, raised his head slightly, and looked at the deep, starry, deep blue night sky.

A bright full moon hung high in the sky, its clear radiance falling on his calm face, making his features look like a painting, his expression indifferent, not even a trace of movement in his eyebrows.

Only in the deepest part of those eyes, which were as deep as cold pools, a flash of extremely cold, extremely sharp, cold light forged from ten thousand years of black ice flashed by at a speed invisible to the naked eye.

This was the look of an avenger, cold, firm, resolute, containing an unknown monstrous will and chilling murderous intent.

The first step, completed.

He muttered silently in his heart. The fingertips hanging by his side tightened imperceptibly, a faint, jade-like white appearing on his knuckles.

This deep water, which had been silent for more than ten years, seemingly calm and rippleless, but actually surging with undercurrents and swallowing countless secrets and lives, had finally been thrown a stone by his own hand today, enough to stir the universe.

Next...

He narrowed his eyes slightly, cold light flowing in his eyes.

It was time to patiently lay out the plan, wait for the opportunity, and set up a net.

To completely stir this muddy water into chaos, and force those monsters and ghosts hiding in the deepest parts, who thought they were safe, to reveal their true forms one by one!

Make them pay a hundredfold, a thousandfold, blood for blood for their sins back then!

Xuanyuan Zhanxian gently tidied his cuffs, which were not in the slightest disarray. The movement was calm and unhurried, as if what he had just experienced was not a life-and-death confrontation with the Supreme of the world, but just an ordinary walk under the moon.

He stepped forward, toward the outside of the palace, toward the cold long road paved by moonlight, walking steadily.

The black figure gradually merged into the clear and bright moonlight like water, his outline becoming blurred, and finally merged with the night.

As if the thrilling confrontation before the Emperor that could be recorded in history, and the imperial anger and silent murderous intent that swept through the entire Imperial Study, had never left any trace on him.

No anger, no panic, no complacency.

Only that icy calm, deeply planted in his bones and blood, as always.