It was said that Yang Xuance, the youngest son of the Yang Kingdom's ruler, having cast off his former restraint, rarely flew into a terrible rage in the palace, smashing his jade pendant.
The charge of obstructing the ruler's familial bonds was one no one dared to bear.
Outside the Hall of Nurturing the Heart, the silence was so complete that even breathing could not be heard.
It was as if the wind itself had been frightened into stillness.
The chief eunuch holding the writing brush, Liu Huai, immediately lowered his head in acknowledgment of his error, filled with trepidation: "How could this old servant dare?"
Yet his posture was performed to the fullest, every courtesy observed, but his feet did not move an inch.
He admitted his mistake, apologized, lowered his head, but did not yield.
Looking at the surrounding guards, palace maids, and eunuchs of all ranks, all bowing their heads in silence, and then at that perpetually silent Hall of Nurturing the Heart, Yang Xuance found that the heart he had long believed to be utterly chilled could somehow grow even colder...
His clamorous outburst, devoid of all etiquette—at the ruler's level of cultivation, how could he possibly not have heard?
He simply did not wish to hear, or perhaps could not be bothered to acknowledge it.
Having endured for so many years, this was his first eruption of temper. Yang Xuance had originally intended to do something more, but a sudden wave of dejection washed over him.
What was the point?
"Very well," he sighed, drawing a letter from his sleeve. "Matters of state and home cannot be delayed. Simply deliver this letter to my father, and I shall not trouble his eyes any longer."
"This old servant will certainly deliver it," Liu Huai said, bending at the waist and respectfully receiving the letter with both hands, never once neglecting his duty as a subject.
He watched Yang Xuance's retreating figure stride away.
Then, slowly, he straightened his back. Without even glancing at it, he simply rubbed the letter between his palms, and it turned to fine powder.
A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips. Now that the Eastern Palace was secure, Liu Huai certainly knew who truly ruled this land. The fifth prince only now thought to "attend to proper matters" and "set up his own stove," but it was far too late—the stove was cold and the firewood scant.
Moreover, the ruler did not care a whit for this so-called son. The Crown Prince was the undeniably future master of Yang Kingdom. Having served by the ruler's side for so many years, how could he not know this?
He was, of course, loyal only to the ruler, but for the next ruler, he also had to maintain the necessary respect.
Delivering this letter today was merely a passing convenience, but in the eyes of the observant, it would appear as a lack of firm allegiance—an issue that could certainly be settled later. How could he risk his neck for a mere Yang Xuance?
Outside the Hall of Nurturing the Heart, there were guards, palace maids, and eunuchs, but all kept their eyes fixed on their boots, none daring to look in this direction.
If one of those Liu Huai had forced to bow their heads were unfortunate enough to witness this, they might well forfeit years of their life.
He turned and walked back into the Hall of Nurturing the Heart, his footsteps making not the slightest sound.
At the ruler's side, countless people vied for position. There was no time to spare.
The great hall was vast. Yang Jiande, the ruler of Yang Kingdom, sat with his eyes closed upon a white jade meditation cushion. A faint golden light shimmered above his head, but he was not engaged in any official business.
Liu Huai stood carefully at a corner of the hall—a spot where he could be found the moment the ruler looked for him, yet not so prominently placed as to be an eyesore.
A long time passed.
The ruler of Yang Kingdom, Yang Jiande, did not open his eyes, but merely asked: "What is Xuance fussing about again?"
Liu Huai replied respectfully: "He claims to have important matters and wishes to see Your Majesty."
Within the vast hall, there was no further response.
...
...
The plague in Jiacheng's domain was finally brought under control.
With the support of the Yang court, the assistance of the Four Seas Trade Alliance, and the full mobilization of the Xi family's power—rulers of this region for centuries—they managed to halt the plague's further spread before the end of the seventh month.
After all, while the plague was certainly terrifying, in a world of the extraordinary, it was hardly an unsolvable problem. It did not even rank among the most catastrophic disasters.
Take, for instance, the great battle last year between Qin and Chu in the River Valley Plains. Both sides deployed nearly a hundred thousand cultivators of the extraordinary, capable of splitting mountains and cracking the earth with a single move.
When two great powers clashed, the entire River Valley Plains sank for hundreds of miles, leaving not a blade of grass to grow. What was once fertile land became scorched earth overnight. This plain had once sustained countless lives, yet now even weeds could not take root. What natural disaster could compare to such devastation?
As for the annihilation of an entire city-domain in Fenglin City of Zhuang Kingdom, where hundreds of thousands of lives vanished without a trace—that went without saying...
The plague in Yang Kingdom, spreading until now, had not yet claimed even a hundred thousand lives.
Of course, such matters were not calculated in such a way, and tragedy was never a matter of comparison.
But human-caused disasters had always surpassed natural ones.
Humans killing humans was more prolific and more ruthless than any natural disaster, than any alien creature!
Let these matters be set aside.
The observant could likely already notice that lately, members of the Xi family's direct line were becoming increasingly scarce in Jiacheng. The family's many businesses—sold off or given away—had been almost entirely dispersed.
The Xi family was making a complete withdrawal from Jiacheng, from this land they had cultivated for centuries.
Their destination was unclear, but many were certain it was the Eastern King Valley, for the Xi family's current patriarch, Xi Zichu, was none other than a disciple of that valley.
The Eastern King Valley itself was not much different from a nation and could certainly accommodate the Xi family.
However, once one leaves their homeland, they are diminished. No matter where they migrated, for the Xi family to restore their former glory would likely take more than a generation or two.
...
One day, Jiang Wang was in the midst of cultivation when a martial officer from the town hall came to report: "Lord Jiang, Xi... Xi Zichu is outside the town, calling your name and demanding a duel!"
A person's name carries the weight of a tree's shadow.
The Xi family had ruled Jiacheng's domain for centuries. Even after losing all public trust during the plague, the prestige accumulated over many years had not yet faded.
In particular, Xi Zichu, as the family's current patriarch, had undeniably inherited that prestige.
This was precisely why Jiang Wang had originally believed that to halt Jiacheng's plague, Xi Zichu's cooperation was indispensable.
No resident of Jiacheng's entire domain was unawed by the Xi family's reputation, and this town hall martial officer was no exception.
Jiang Wang opened his eyes, without a trace of surprise.
He directly took up his long sword, pushed open the door, and walked toward the town's northern gate.
Coming from the direction of Jiacheng, he would naturally arrive at the north gate.
Before he had gone far, another furious shout rang out, shaking the entire town.
"Jiang Wang!"
Now, Xiang Qian, Zhu Biqiong, Zhang Hai, and Dugu Xiao were all alerted.
Even the Four Seas Trade Alliance guards at the warehouse, and the medical cultivators Chongxuan Sheng had sent to treat the townspeople, all turned their attention.
Not to mention the town hall constables, martial officers, and the townspeople themselves.
If it were not a special period with all entry and exit forbidden, the entire town would likely have crowded the north gate until no one could move.
Even so, each of them stood in their homes, ears perked, awaiting what would happen next.