448: Chapter 458 The Secret Garden of Lantai!

The autumn wind swept up fallen leaves on the official road, and the rhythmic clip-clop of horse hooves echoed on the smooth loess path.

Three days later.

The towering gray city walls of the capital reappeared on the horizon. Leading a rented pack horse, Su Ming blended into the crowd of merchants and refugees entering the city, slowly passing through the city gates with the throng.

He still wore the same faded gray long robe and a bamboo hat. However, if a high-level Cultivator with keen insight were present, they would discover that after his trip to Qingshi Town, a subtle transformation had occurred in Su Ming's aura.

If the previous Su Ming was like a sharp sword hidden in its scabbard that occasionally leaked a hint of its edge, then at this moment, he was like an ancient, bottomless well.

The anxieties of the Mortal world, the worry for his Family, and the murderous intent toward Marquis Yongchang's Estate had all vanished like the morning mist during those three kowtows at the Su Family's old residence. His aura was restrained to the extreme, as if he had finally set down a ten-thousand-pound burden he had carried for five years. Even his footsteps on the bluestone slabs were as light as a falling feather.

Passing through the bustling marketplace, Su Ming returned with practiced ease to the quiet courtyard in the east of the city arranged by the Foreign Affairs Department.

Just as he pushed open the courtyard gate, Zhou Tong, the supervisor of the Foreign Affairs Department, came forward to greet him.

“Master Su, you've returned. I've had the room cleaned daily, and hot water and spiritual tea are ready.”

Su Ming nodded slightly and said in a gentle tone, “Thank you, Supervisor Zhou. I need to cultivate in seclusion for the next few days. Unless it is urgent, do not let anyone disturb me.”

At dusk, the setting sun was as red as blood.

Su Ming had just finished a cycle of the Ruoshui Art in his room, thoroughly stabilizing the wisp of spiritual energy that had been unsettled by his travels, when a faint green streak of light silently pierced through the window lattice and came to a stop before him.

It was Elder Qingquan's message Talisman.

“Come to the main hall for tea.”

There were only six brief words, carrying the casual familiarity unique to an Elder.

Su Ming straightened his robes and pushed open the door.

The main hall of the Foreign Affairs Department was spacious and bright, with four thick, century-old Phoebe zhennan pillars supporting a high vaulted ceiling. Elder Qingquan was not sitting in the high seat of honor; instead, he had pulled up a low table and sat cross-legged before the open hall doors, facing the few withered lotuses swaying in the courtyard breeze.

A small red clay stove rested on the low table, its charcoal fire burning brightly. The water in the purple clay teapot was already boiling, making a bubbling sound that caused the lid to dance slightly, releasing an elegant tea fragrance. Two plates of pastries from a long-established capital brand were also placed casually on the table.

Su Ming walked to the low table and respectfully performed a Junior's salute.

“Disciple greets the Master.”

Elder Qingquan did not look up; he was holding a cotton cloth, focused intently on wiping a white porcelain teacup.

“You're back?”

Elder Qingquan's voice was calm, like an ordinary person greeting a nephew returning from buying vegetables at the market.

“I'm back.” Su Ming sat down cross-legged opposite the low table.

Elder Qingquan lifted the purple clay teapot of boiling water, his wrist slightly suspended, as the scalding water poured into the white porcelain teacup like a silver thread. The tea leaves tumbled and unfurled in the water.

“Is your Family well?”

“They are all well.” Su Ming nodded, his voice carrying a sense of relieved calm.

Elder Qingquan pushed the brewed tea in front of Su Ming and gave a soft “Mm,” asking nothing more.

For Cultivators like them who had experienced the vicissitudes of life, knowing the result was 'well' was enough.

Su Ming picked up the teacup and took a small sip. As the tea entered his throat, it transformed into a wisp of warm Spiritual Qi that flowed through his Meridians, completely dispelling the chill of the late autumn evening.

Elder Qingquan also picked up a cup of tea, his gaze passing over the courtyard wall toward the continuous eaves of the palaces deep within the capital.

“You have been in the capital for some time now. Have you ever visited the Lantai Secret Garden?”

Su Ming was slightly stunned.

Lantai Secret Garden? He naturally remembered that name. Back when he was still a low-level editor at the Hanlin Academy, he had heard colleagues mention this place, which was classified as an absolute Forbidden Ground by the imperial court. Liu Wenyuan, the Vice Director of the Imperial Academy, had even sternly warned him never to go near it.

Su Ming had always thought it was just a secret base used by the Daxing royal Family to store top-secret archives or some kind of royal Treasure Trove.

He set down his teacup and shook his head honestly. “Disciple has never been there.”

Elder Qingquan smiled, a smile tinged with the sentiment of one who had lived through many years. He set down his cup and fished a fragment of unknown material from his sleeve, slowly fiddling with it in his hand.

“You think it's just the Emperor of Daxing's private treasury? It is a ruin left behind by the Great Yan Dynasty.”

Elder Qingquan's voice echoed in the empty main hall, carrying the weight of history.

“Great Yan was the Dynasty before Daxing. Back then, it was a true cultivation Dynasty.”

Su Ming's pupils contracted slightly.

A cultivation Dynasty? In this era of 'Severance of Heaven and Earth,' where Mortals were strictly forbidden from contacting the methods of cultivation, those words sounded like a fantasy.

Unaware of the waves in Su Ming's heart, Elder Qingquan continued to recount that bloody history buried by time.

“Three thousand years ago, there was no absolute boundary between the mundane and cultivation on this land. The royal Family, nobility, and civil and military officials of the Great Yan Dynasty all practiced Spells. They replaced city walls with Formations and armed their armies with Talismans. At that time, the Spiritual Qi in the capital was so abundant it could condense into mist.”

A flash of complex emotion crossed Elder Qingquan's eyes—admiration mixed with mockery.

“But the greed and ambition of Mortals can never be filled. The last emperor of Great Yan was a brilliant and formidable hero. He wanted to devour the Sects; he attempted to gather the Luck of an entire nation to forcefully forge a behemoth in this Mortal realm that could stand as an equal to the super Sects. Later, he even wanted to expel the Cloud Hidden Sect from the Northern Territory.”

Hearing this, Su Ming's breath hitched slightly.

He suddenly understood something.

There was no such thing as absolute good or evil in this world; it was merely a matter of differing perspectives. The Emperor of Great Yan wanted to fight for the independence and dignity of his people and Dynasty, which Mortals would see as the great work of an eternal emperor. But in the eyes of the Sects, this was called transgression; it was called seeking death.

“And the result?” Su Ming asked softly.

“The result?” Elder Qingquan sneered. “A mere Dynasty dared to challenge the baseline of the Sects. The Cloud Hidden Sect directly dispatched three Nascent Soul Stage Cultivators. The Emperor of Great Yan died in battle before the Golden Throne Hall, and his army of a million Cultivators was reduced to ashes. The entire capital was literally turned into a wasteland under the supreme divine abilities of the Nascent Soul Cultivators.”

Elder Qingquan picked up his teacup and drained the now-cool tea in one gulp.

“After the fall of Great Yan, the Cloud Hidden Sect supported an obedient Family from the ruins to establish the Daxing Kingdom, and established an iron law forged from ten million corpses: In the Mortal Dynasty, civil and military officials, and the royal Family, no one is permitted to step onto the path of cultivation. Those who violate this shall have their entire clan executed.”

“This is one of the origins of today's 'Chasm Between Immortals and Mortals.'”