The Empress's No.1 Lackey

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"The Commandery Princess's words are not unfounded. The Grand Ancestor Emperor was extraordinarily talented, subjugating not just the two sects in the past but most of the realm."

The elderly man in the plain robe, driving the carriage, showed a look of reverence and sighed,

"Alas, these days are not as they were. The royal family hasn't been involved in the Buddhist Tao duel for many years. Meanwhile, the Martial Emperor City's lineage is showing signs of restlessness."

Xu Junling's expression changed slightly upon hearing "Martial Emperor City," and she said softly,

"Master Lv, do you mean that Chai... is aiming to challenge the victor of the two sects?"

The person she referred to was someone they'd encountered on their way to the capital a few days earlier.

He was the only one in the world today who had nearly reached the realm of a "Heavenly Person" purely through "martial arts," one of the direct disciples of Wu Xiankui.

His name was "Chai Keqiao."

The elder in the plain robe recognized him and was exceedingly vigilant at that time.

However, that martial artist named Chai was quite polite. Since they were both heading to the capital, Xu Junling courteously invited him to travel together.

Yet the man declined, stating he preferred to walk.

In the end, several days passed.

The convoy from the Huainan Prince Mansion, traveling by carriage, surprisingly could not leave behind the young martial artist.

Such endurance made the elder in the plain robe quite envious too.

"Haha, hard to say. But the disciples of Martial Emperor City have always had the tradition of traveling through the Jianghu, seeking strong opponents for sparring, calling it 'pilgrimage.'

This person entering the capital now, even if not for the Buddhist Tao duel, will inevitably cause a disturbance," said Master Lv.

The sweet-faced, noble Xu Junling nodded gently.

Although curious about the cultivators' struggles, she wasn't too concerned.

Her entry to the capital had another purpose.

Now, Xu Junling unfolded the scroll in her hands, which detailed intelligence worth noting within the capital.

"Zhao Douan... Hmm, in the many pieces of information Father prepared for me, this name appears frequently and has an unclear relationship with Sister the Emperor...

However, with Sister the Emperor's character, this so-called 'gigolo' rumor is likely a deliberately planted falsehood."

Xu Junling analyzed softly,

"But even if it's false, anyone valued by my sister must not be a simple person. It's unexpected that this person's reputation is so poor."

Beside her, the maid Lv Shui whispered,

"Spoiled sons with power and influence rarely have good reputations. I bet that this Zhao fellow is just a chicken that flew out of a coop..."

Xu Junling interrupted the maid, speaking solemnly,

"Never underestimate anyone. If what's in the intelligence isn't false, someone with such skills cannot be unable to control his temper.

It's likely that this tainted reputation is deliberately self-sabotaged...

Lying dormant for a year and then suddenly rising, such a temperament is rare among the young talents along the Huai River."

She paused, eyes reflecting worry,

"Unfortunately, this person and the Jiangnan faction controlled by the Prime Minister are like water and fire. In stance, he is not aligned with our Huainan Prince Mansion, possibly becoming an obstacle...

But if it's the other way around, if my sister can truly stabilize her throne, he'd be worth befriending. Yet, one must also consider Li Yinglong's attitude..."

As she spoke, she imagined a whole string of future scenarios.

The maid whispered,

"Commandery Princess, you're thinking too far. How can you judge this person just by words on paper? He might even be a puppet thrown out by Your Majesty."

Xu Junling smiled self-mockingly,

"I am overthinking. Hearing is unreliable; seeing is believing. I can only wait and see after entering the capital."

Closing the scroll, the Commandery Princess closed her eyes for a rest.

In the autumn wind, the carriage rolled over the wheel tracks, gradually approaching the distant capital.

On the other side of the wheel tracks,

a martial artist was following the convoy at a distance.

He appeared to be in his twenties, with messy hair.

Dressed in hemp clothes, wearing straw sandals, he carried a bundle slung across his shoulders and had a gourd for water hanging at his waist.

He held no weapons like swords or sabers, only a coarse rope as a belt, with a decent-looking axe carelessly tucked into the gap at his waist and ribs.

He showed none of a strongman's demeanor, resembling more a woodsman from the mountains.

The woodsman walked in long strides, his dirt-stained toes stretching the straw sandals as if they were about to burst.

Though his pace appeared slow, he kept steadily at the convoy's tail.

Regardless of the speed of the carriage, the distance between them neither closed nor widened.

Chai Keqiao, his sun-drenched face red and black, looked up, shading his eyes with his right hand as if peering over mountains and seas.

In his gaze, there was anticipation: "Martial God, what scene does it entail?"

The carriage led in front, with the martial artist following behind.

One read ten thousand books, the other traveled ten thousand miles.

This autumn, cultivators from the Nine Roads and Eighteen Prefectures of Great Yu were all drawn to the centennial Buddhist Tao contention.

Meanwhile, Zhao Douan, lounging at home, inexplicably sneezed, rubbed his nose, and muttered,

"Who's talking about me?"

...

...

In the following days, all in the court were digesting the aftermath of Wang Heng's downfall.

Secret letters were dispatched to various parts of Great Yu, naturally including the Jin Jian Mansion, which had paid a heavy price.

Sadly, no one knew the expression of the "Prince Jing," occupying Jiancheng Road, and first among the Eight Princes.

Within the court, every official trembled, awaiting the Empress's severe reckoning.

But unexpectedly for everyone, the Empress ordered only the confirmed traitors to be punished, without any collateral implicating.

And the subsequent "amnesty" subtly changed the wavering temple atmosphere.

No one knew the pros and cons of this move.

However, Wu Ling, stationed at Bafang Theater Hall for Kuangfu Society, felt the autumnal chill.

When he reconnected with his comrade, they only gave him two words:

"Lying low."

Kuangfu Society and the Royal Mansion spies took a beating in succession, and the upcoming Buddhist Tao duel served as a "ceasefire" signal, halting actions from all sides.

Even the rebels did not wish to stir up anything in the capital at this critical juncture, for fear of offending both major sects' immortals.

Only some aftermath "ripples" slowly spread on the capital's lake.

For example, the "Young Master," stripped of his official robe, quietly returned to the Divine Mechanism Camp, seemingly transformed.

For instance, the army's criticism of Zhao Douan gradually disappeared, giving way to increasing reverence under the Privy Council's guidance.

For example, one day, the Firearms Bureau's chief, Chen Huoshen, received Zhao Douan's proposal for the "flintlock gun" design.

Overjoyed, he was so excited that he didn't sleep all night, reportedly hugging the rudimentary blueprint to sleep.

Also, Jin Jian's and Gongshu Tianyuan's appearances reduced significantly, with the Heavenly Master Mansion's bell ringing later each day.

The same occurred at the Divine Dragon Temple.

Day by day, more faces unfamiliar to the capital appeared, many being cultivators from various places coming to join the excitement and watch the battle.

Such a once-in-a-century spectacle, who wouldn't want to witness it?

However, unlike the increasing street discussions about the Buddhist Tao duel,

Zhao Douan simply wanted to sleep.

"Such a cool autumn..."

That morning, Zhao Douan woke up wrapped in a quilt, sleepily sighing.

"""