Chapter 81 The Eve of the Storm

On the night Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong returned to the palace, the entire Secret Guard System of Zhaoge was mobilized.

Three tokens were issued from the Grand Tutors Mansion in the middle of the night. One was to retrieve the entry records of Yin Pobai from the City Gate Office.

One was to summon the genealogy of the seventh branch of the Yin Clan in Zhaoge, and one was sent directly to the Ministry of Rites—to investigate the death records of the former border official mentioned in the man's letter of recommendation.

Three days.

Yin Pobai's identity as a scion of a noble family was stripped away layer by layer.

The genealogy was a forgery.

The paper was right, the ink was right, and even the paste used for mounting was produced locally in Zhaoge—

But the real genealogy of the seventh branch of the Yin Clan was locked in the Ancestral Temple; upon comparison, there was an extra name that had never existed.

The minor border official who signed the recommendation letter had been dead for six years.

The entry route was even more interesting.

The Secret Guards checked the Relay Station records along the way; Yin Pobai had entered Zhaoge from the northwest.

He didn't take the eastern official road or the southern trade route, but instead took a massive detour.

That detour happened to avoid the patrol outposts of the old Eastern Yi battlefield—yet it just so happened to pass through the foothills of the Kunlun Mountains.

The night of the third day.

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong sat in the study of the Grand Tutors Mansion, spreading all the evidence across the table.

His Heavenly Eye opened a crack.

From the personal jade pendant seized from Yin Pobai by the Secret Guards, he detected a faint trace of residual spiritual power.

That spiritual power was pure and sharp, like frost and swords.

Something from the Chan Sect.

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong gripped the jade pendant in his palm, his knuckles turning white.

He wasn't angry at Yin Pobai. A mole at the Heavenly Immortal realm could simply be killed.

He was angry about something else.

The hand of the Chan Sect had reached into the court of Great Shang.

They didn't come uprightly as Immortals—they forged identities and fabricated evidence.

Using Emperor Yi’s suspicion to eliminate Great Shang's own officials.

This was no longer a conflict between Immortals and mortals.

They were treating Great Shang as a chessboard.

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong stood up, donned his armor, and headed out.

The Ink Kirin let out a long neigh, trampling through the night.

—

The royal bedchamber.

Emperor Yi had just finished reviewing memorials and was about to rest. Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong’s request for an audience was brought in, stamped with the Grand Preceptor’s golden seal.

Emperor Yi's hand paused on the request for two breaths.

"Summon him."

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong entered the hall without performing the formal grand salute.

He placed the iron box, the genealogy comparisons, the Relay Station records, and the jade pendant before Emperor Yi, one by one.

Emperor Yi looked through them one by one.

His expression changed three times.

The first was fury—someone dared to forge secret letters of collusion with the enemy right under his nose.

The second was suspicion—if Yin Pobai was a fake, then all the evidence against Chen Yuan he had presented was also fake.

He had almost killed his own meritorious official based on fabricated evidence.

The third was lingering fear—what if Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong hadn't found out?

"A cultivation School intends to interfere in the internal affairs of Great Shang," Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong said only this one sentence.

He didn't mention the Chan Sect. He didn't say Kunlun.

Emperor Yi understood.

He also understood the unspoken layer—the Grand Preceptor was giving him a way out.

"Apprehend Yin Pobai. Alive." Emperor Yi's voice was extremely low.

The Commander of the Secret Guards took the order and left.

He returned half an hour later.

The second-floor room of the inn was empty. The bedding was cold; he had been gone for at least two hours. A note was left on the table.

Six words.

"The Qi of Great Shang is exhausted."

After reading the note, Emperor Yi was silent for five breaths.

Then he raised his hand and smashed a bronze tripod from the royal desk onto the floor.

Followed by a second, then a third.

The sound of bronze shattering exploded in the bedchamber, and the eunuchs on night duty all fell to their knees.

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong stood still. His Heavenly Eye opened slightly, scanning the handwriting on the note.

Hidden within the strokes was a fluctuation of spiritual power, a Restriction technique unique to the Chan Sect.

It didn't harm people, but it would leave a lingering sense of oppression in the viewer's heart.

Yin Pobai was gone. But those six words were like a poisonous thorn, piercing into Emperor Yi's heart.

—

Thirty miles outside Zhaoge, an unnamed mountain peak.

Yin Pobai was still panting when he landed.

He had pushed his Escape Technique to the limit, consuming seventy percent of his mana.

Guangchengzi sat cross-legged under a pine tree, his Fly-whisk resting on his knees, his expression calm.

"Did they find out?"

"They found out." Yin Pobai bowed his head.

"Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong's Heavenly Eye detected the residual spiritual power on the jade pendant."

Guangchengzi nodded. It was not unexpected.

"Did you leave those six words?"

"I did."

"That's enough."

Guangchengzi stood up, placing his hands behind his back as he looked toward Zhaoge.

The exposure of the mole was already part of the plan.

Yin Pobai was never the killing move.

The killing move was the seed already planted in Emperor Yi's heart—suspicion.

Someone forging evidence to harm Chen Yuan precisely proved that there was a power behind Chen Yuan.

And if an official had an Immortal family backing them, regardless of whether that Immortal was a friend or foe—

—it was the greatest threat to a monarch.

Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong had cleared Chen Yuan of the false accusations.

But in Emperor Yi's logic, this matter itself was a new point of suspicion—

Why was the Grand Preceptor so proactive in speaking up for a young man?

Had even the Grand Preceptor been won over?

A monarch's machinations never required evidence. They only required suspicion.

—

As expected.

That night, Emperor Yi sat alone in his bedchamber until dawn.

After daybreak, he summoned the Commander of the Secret Guards and issued two secret orders.

First: Strengthen the surveillance of the Chen Manor. Focus—the three maids.

Second: Accelerate the process of the bestowed marriage. The deadline for Huang Yuerong's recovery is ten days. After ten days, if Chen Yuan does not marry her, it will be considered a defiance of the imperial Decree.

The news reached the Chen Manor that same day.

—

Inside the bamboo building.

Chen Yuan deduced the situation on the chessboard to the final step and withdrew his hand.

Ten days.

Emperor Yi's fourth blade had already been raised.

He closed his eyes, fully activating the Shangqing Immortal Arts. The Great Dao Golden Wheel slowly rotated.

His Taiyi Peak mana surged like a tide against that layer of the Daluo barrier.

The cracks on the barrier expanded one by one.

Every time he approached the critical point, he was just one breath short.

It wasn't mana he lacked. What it was, he hadn't figured out yet.

Outside the bamboo building, Yunxiao sensed the mana fluctuations, her brow furrowing slightly.

The step from Taiyi to Daluo was one she had taken before.

She knew what kind of chasm it was.

It wasn't something that could be crossed just by having enough mana.

It required an opportunity.

She looked at the tightly closed door and remained silent.

Bixiao jumped silently from the roof ridge and landed beside her.

"Eldest Sister. There's unusual activity thirty miles outside the city."

Yunxiao turned her head.

Bixiao lowered her voice:

"At least three Golden Immortal level auras. Their concealment methods are quite good, but they can't fool me."

Yunxiao's gaze sharpened.

Footsteps came from the courtyard entrance.

Qiong Xiao flew back from outside, the usual smile gone from her face as she landed.

"Eldest Sister, Second Sister."

Her voice was very tense.

"I intercepted a spiritual transmission from the Chan Sect. Guangchengzi has requested a Decree from Kunlun."

"What Decree?"

"The Heaven's Punishment Order. It allows him to take action against variables within the borders of Great Shang when necessary."

The three sisters looked at each other.

Heaven's Punishment—the highest authorization for the Chan Sect to kill in the mortal world in the name of acting on behalf of Heaven.

Yuanshi Tianzun had given his tacit consent.

Time window: ten days.

Emperor Yi's ten-day limit, the unbroken Daluo barrier, and the Chan Sect assassins lurking outside the city.

Three lines tightened simultaneously, all pointing toward the same person.

The door to the bamboo building suddenly opened.

Chen Yuan stood at the door, his gaze passing over the courtyard wall, looking toward the outskirts of the city.

His Divine Sense captured those three faint Golden Immortal auras.

"Guangchengzi."

His voice was very soft, yet his tone didn't sound like that of a hunted prey.

"You've come too."

He paused for a moment.

"Good."