Chapter 49 The Qilin bides its time, the imperial star changes hands.

On the banks of the Yellow River, the scent of blood mixed with the fragrance of soil drifted in the wind.

The surviving soldiers erupted in a frenzy of relief, throwing their weapons into the sky.

They roared, venting the fear and despair that had almost crushed them.

They had won.

Mortals had slaughtered a true Dragon!

Chen Lie knelt on one knee in the mud, the cold sensation of the tiger tally still lingering in his palm.

He gazed toward the direction of Zhaoge, his weather-beaten face filled with endless pride, his tiger-like eyes brimming with tears.

"My son is truly a Qilin!"

Yet for some reason, at the very moment his pride reached its peak, an inexplicable palpitation suddenly gripped his heart.

...

Zhaoge, Chen Residence.

The carriage had just come to a halt.

"Yuaner!"

Princess Yin Rong's exclamation tore through the air.

With a thud, Chen Yuan tumbled directly from the carriage, his small body crashing heavily onto the bluestone pavement.

"Yuaner!" With a flash of her figure, Yunxiao appeared at Chen Yuan's side, reaching out to help him.

However, Chen Yuan seemed not to hear, crawling on his hands and knees, scrambling into the courtyard.

His little face was pale as paper, his forehead covered in bead-sized sweat, as if he had just been fished out of water.

He pushed aside all the debris in the courtyard, knelt on the ground, and began digging frantically into the soil with both hands.

Pebbles, withered branches, fallen leaves... everything became his chess pieces.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering onto the soil before him, a shocking sight.

His small body swayed violently, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at the formation on the ground that had just taken shape.

At this moment, as it disintegrated along with his blood—the Trapped Dragon Formation—his childish voice carried a hint of desperate hoarseness.

"The... the net is closing..."

Before he could finish, his eyes rolled back, and he fell stiffly backward.

"Yuaner!"

Princess Yin Rong let out a cry of grief and lunged forward, but Yunxiao was one step faster, gathering the small body into her arms.

He felt cold to the touch, his vitality as weak as a candle in the wind.

This coma lasted for a full three months.

The Guardian Qilin, with a Mortal body, had forcibly deduced the Dragon-Slaughtering Formation, exhausting his spirit and hanging by a thread.

The entire Chen Residence was shrouded in gloom; they had invited all the famous doctors in Zhaoge, but none could do anything.

They could only diagnose that Chen Yuan was physically and mentally exhausted, his life force drained, but they could not prescribe any effective medicine.

Princess Yin Rong wept day and night, and she had grown thin.

Only the lady from the neighboring courtyard, Revered Master Yunxiao, who had been titled the Guardian Female Revered Master, came to visit every day.

No one knew that every morning, when the first ray of purple Qi arrived from the east, Yunxiao would quietly stand in the courtyard.

Using her own pure immortal power, she would draw in the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi, condensing it into drops of morning dew imbued with vigorous vitality.

She mixed this dew into Spiritual Plants disguised as rare Mortal medicinal herbs, brewed them herself, and had Princess Yin Rong feed them to Chen Yuan.

It was precisely by relying on this bit of immortal vitality that Chen Yuan's life was barely sustained.

"Sister, how is Senior Brother doing?" On the garden wall, Bixiao and Qiong Xiao looked full of worry.

Yunxiao stood guard by Chen Yuan's bed, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, her beautiful eyes filled with pity and gravity.

"His spirit is severely depleted, almost damaging his true essence. If it weren't for the incredibly tenacious Dao Foundation hidden beneath his Mortal body that is repairing itself, I fear he would have already..."

Yunxiao did not continue.

She only became more determined in her Revered Master's teaching to enter and guard the game.

This great tribulation of the Mortal World was ten thousand times more dangerous than imagined.

In the second month of Chen Yuan's coma, reports of victory arrived from Qingyuan County.

General Chen Lie had quelled the floods and slain the evil dragon, and would soon return to the capital in triumph.

When the news reached Zhaoge, the people rejoiced.

However, on the dragon throne in the Golden Throne Hall, there was not a trace of joy on the face of King Wendin.

He was disturbed by nightmares every night.

In his dreams, that five-year-old child was no longer a Qilin, but a black giant Dragon, larger and more ferocious than the evil dragon of the Yellow River, swallowing the golden Luck Dragon of Great Shang in one bite!

Those cold, indifferent eyes were exactly the same as they were on the day he spilled tea in front of the hall.

"Cough, cough... cough..."

King Wending of Shang began to cough violently, feeling his life slipping away rapidly.

His fear of Chen Yuan had turned into a Heart Demon, gnawing at his spirit day and night.

On his deathbed, he dismissed everyone, leaving only Emperor Yi, who had just been named Crown Prince.

"Father..." Emperor Yi knelt before the bed, looking at his dying father.

"That... Qilin..." King Wending of Shang's withered hand gripped Emperor Yi's sleeve tightly, his eyes flashing with a final burst of vitality.

"Can bring prosperity to Shang... but can also... destroy Shang..."

"Father, Chen Yuan offered plans to control the floods, and his father slew the dragon to quell the chaos; these are both great merits..."

"Silence!" King Wending of Shang interrupted him sharply, his eyes full of crazy paranoia. "A five-year-old child! Able to calculate the world! Able to slaughter a true Dragon! This is not an omen of good fortune! It is a Prodigy! It is a sword hanging over my Yin Shang royal power!"

He gasped violently, pulled a bamboo scroll wrapped in bright yellow silk from under his pillow, and jammed it into Emperor Yi's hand.

"This is... the last royal decree... I leave for you..."

"Listen, Emperor Yi... in the future, if you find that he has even a shred of disloyalty, or if his talent and wisdom reach a point where you cannot control him..."

King Wending of Shang's voice was like the cold wind of the Nine Netherworlds, every word tempered with the ruthlessness and viciousness of an emperor.

"You must use thunderous means to execute him immediately! Never... have the benevolence of a woman!"

"Father!"

"Remember... this is a royal decree!"

After saying the last four words, King Wendin tilted his head; this monarch, who had been suspicious his entire life, finally breathed his last.

Emperor Yi held the burning hot imperial edict in his hand, looking at the already cold corpse on the dragon bed, his expression complex, finally turning into a long sigh.

...

Thirteen years passed in the blink of an eye.

Emperor Yi ascended the throne and worked diligently to govern, and the national power of Great Shang grew stronger day by day.

Zhaoge City had long since changed.

The legend of the Guardian Qilin, who had shocked the imperial court and was hailed as an omen of good fortune sent from heaven, had gradually faded with the passage of time.

People only knew that after slaying the Dragon, the child Prodigy had fallen seriously ill; although his life was saved, his Foundation was damaged, leaving him sickly and weak, never again regaining his former brilliance.

The former Qilin had ultimately faded into the crowd.

Chen Residence, a quiet courtyard.

An eighteen-year-old youth in white robes sat leaning by the window.

He had handsome features, his eyes and brows like a painting, though his complexion was somewhat sickly pale.

In his hand was not a sword, but an old chess manual.

It was none other than Chen Yuan.

For thirteen years, he had lived in seclusion, spending his days with chessboards and books, keeping all his sharpness hidden within.

In the eyes of the world, he had become a talented but weak scholar who couldn't even truss a chicken.

The miracle of that year was nothing more than a flash in the pan.

"Sigh, what a pity. He was so glorious back then, but now he's become a medicine jar."

"Keep your voice down! The General loves this son the most."

Outside the courtyard, two sweeping servants whispered, their voices soft but clearly reaching Chen Yuan's ears.

Chen Yuan paid no heed, his gaze still fixed on the chess manual, as if nothing in the world could compare to the square inches of black and white.

In the neighboring courtyard, the Three Xiao Fairies had grown into peerless beauties; they had lived in Zhaoge City for thirteen years just like ordinary people.

"Big Sister, Little Junior Nephew's Turtle Breathing Technique is getting better and better. If this continues, the people in Zhaoge City will really think he's a useless person."

Bixiao leaned against the wall and pouted.

Yunxiao was brewing tea in the courtyard, her movements elegant. She just smiled faintly upon hearing this.

"Revered Master says this is biding one's time. In his previous life, his sharpness was too exposed, and it is easy to break when too rigid. In this life, he needs to hide his killing intent beneath gentleness to go further."

"He really Cultivates his own Cultivation Technique fast."

Just then.

"Creak—"

The main gate of the Chen Residence was slowly pushed open.

An old eunuch dressed as a Palace Attendant, holding a bright yellow royal edict and escorted by a squad of imperial guards, walked straight into the residence.

"The royal edict is here—! Chen Yuan, receive the decree!"

The shrill voice broke the thirteen years of tranquility in the Chen Residence.

The servants sweeping the courtyard were so frightened they all knelt down.

General Chen Lie was currently inspecting the border on orders and was not at the residence.

Princess Yin Rong hurried over upon hearing the sound, and her face turned deathly pale when she saw the royal edict.

Thirteen years had passed, and the royal family's gaze had finally fallen on her son once again.

By the window, Chen Yuan slowly put down the chess manual in his hand.

He raised his head and looked at the eunuch proclaiming the decree; in those eyes, calm for thirteen years, there was not a ripple.

As if he had been waiting here for a long time.