Chapter 173 – Entering the Palace

“Hyah!”

Da-da-da!

Horse hooves thundered as several swift riders galloped down the official street. They charged out through Jianchun Gate, heading east out of the city. The leading rider swung his whip and shouted:

“Make way! Make way!”

Hiii—!

The horses flew by like the wind. The commoners and merchants waiting at the gate for inspection hastily dropped what they were carrying and scrambled aside. The pounding hooves roared past, and the crowd, left in dust and disarray, clambered to their feet, muttering curses as they watched the riders disappear beyond the city gates.

“Riding like that—what, are they rushing to their graves?” “They nearly ran me over! Lucky I dodged in time!” 

“Don’t even care if they kill someone, these damned officials.”

Dusk began to fall. The official road stretched for more than ten li, and the galloping steeds soon veered off toward a wooded path nearby. Startled birds burst from the trees, circling high as the riders cut through the wild undergrowth. In the distance, upon the open plain, a circular ritual altar stood tall and solemn.

“Whoa—!”

The lead rider, a man with a pale, gaunt face, lifted a gloved hand—his iron gloves faintly scaled like fishskin—and signaled for the men behind him to dismount.

“No noise, do not disturb the Venerable Master’s cultivation!”

Once off their horses, the pale-faced man glanced around. The weeds grew thick, a thin mist creeping across the ground. Though the sun still shone, it gave off no warmth.

“How strange. In the height of summer, why is it so chill here?”

They climbed the white stone steps, on which crimson characters were carved: “Deliver All Beings with Mercy.” Reaching the top, the pale-faced man struck the lacquered red gates. The tall circular walls of the fatan gleamed snow-white—freshly built just last year, not yet tainted by a speck of dust.

As they looked about, a faint creak sounded—zhi!—and the great doors slowly parted on their own, opening just wide enough for passage. The pale-faced man gestured for his subordinates to follow and stepped cautiously inside.

“Venerable Master!”

Within stood the round ritual platform. Around it, the viewing seats rose layer upon layer like stone steps, and on each tier, an ever-burning lamp flickered softly.

“Commander, this place feels eerie.”

The pale-faced commander turned his head slightly, his voice low and sharp: “This is the ritual altar. Did you think it was some common temple or shrine? Hold your tongue—mind you don’t offend the Venerable Master.”

“Yes.”

The man hastily replied. Just as they stepped toward the center of the altar, a shadow suddenly swept across the entrance ahead. Out walked a woman, her hair tied high beneath a black veil, holding a ritual staff. Her face was expressionless.

She bowed slightly toward the five men.

“Amitābha. The five of you carry heavy murderous intent—you may not enter to see the Venerable Master.”

The pale-faced commander, recognizing her as the Venerable Master’s attendant, let out a silent breath of relief. He quickly cupped his hands and said,

“We have come under the Emperor’s decree. His Majesty wishes to invite the Venerable Master to take residence within the palace.”

The attendant lowered her head without a word. After a long pause, she softly replied, “Please wait.” Forming a mudra with her hands, she turned and walked inside. The wind howled faintly as darkness gathered around them; only a few great red lanterns hung nearby, their glow swaying gently.

Within the circle of crimson light, a gauze canopy drifted slightly in the air. Through its thin veil could be seen a frail figure seated cross-legged. Perhaps stirred by the sound of footsteps, the figure’s closed eyes parted slightly, and the lips moved faintly.

“What is it outside?”

The attendant approached, joined her palms in salute, and said, “Your Holiness, His Majesty has sent envoys to invite you to take up residence in the imperial palace.”

Inside the veil, Pudu Cihang gave no reply. The slightly opened eyes closed once more—his Crimson Cauldron Profound Qi was but a step away from completion.

The darkness around stirred with a faint rustling. One by one, shadowy figures stepped into the lantern light, silently lifting a crane-headed lotus palanquin. The bearers lined up in a long, dragon-like procession.

Outside, the five men stood respectfully, lowering their eyes as the group emerged. None dared look directly. When the palanquin halted before them, a cold, clear woman’s voice came from within.

“His Majesty is wise and enlightened—the blessing of all under Heaven. Since you stand so near, you too shall share in great fortune.”

The pale-faced commander’s face brightened with joy. He cupped his hands deeply, and the four behind him quickly followed, bowing repeatedly as they spoke in unison:

“Thank you, Venerable Master, for your grace and blessing!”

Within the veil, Pudu Cihang inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. The palanquin moved once more, the chime of golden gongs, bronze bells, and wooden fish echoing in solemn Buddhist rhythm. Passing straight through the altar courtyard, the procession went out the great gates and disappeared into the distance. The five men left behind exchanged delighted glances.

“Now this is good! Since the Venerable Master has taken notice of us, our ranks will surely rise!” “Come, let’s return and report to His Majesty first.”

“How about we go out tonight and celebrate a bit?”

“Haha, of course! We’ll call it a toast to the Commander’s fortune!”

The pale-faced man clasped one hand behind his back, half-squinting as he listened to the congratulations of his four subordinates. The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile. He was just about to dismiss them to return when his steps suddenly halted—his ears twitched.

Hiss—

The faint chirring of insects reached him. The four men, already a few paces ahead, turned back, still grinning.

“Commander, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you coming?”

The next instant, the loose earth split apart—shua!—and several black shadows burst out from underground. In the pale-faced man’s sight, the shadows revealed gaping, pincer-like maws that snapped shut around the men’s necks. Before any of them could utter a sound, they were dragged screaming into the soil.

Thick blood seeped through the churned dirt, bubbling outward. The pale-faced man stumbled back several steps. From behind him came the sound of the air being ripped open. He roared, “Ahhh!” and clenched his iron gloves, swinging a fist backward.

Bang!

His blow struck something hard—a carapace. Sparks flew where metal met shell. Only then did he see it clearly: a creature as thick as a man’s waist, a long worm thrashing its tendrils. Its first strike having missed, the segmented body twisted violently, raising a gust of foul wind before vanishing underground in an instant.

“What kind of demon is this!”

Though he was a skilled martial artist, fear gripped his chest. This was the ritual altar, the Venerable Master’s domain—such a thing could not have appeared without connection to him. Even if he had once served that holy man, it was clear now—the Venerable Master meant to kill him.

”Not good—the Venerable Master is entering the palace!”

The thought flashed through his mind like lightning. He turned and ran toward the great gate, but after only two steps, the ground beneath him caved in with a heavy thud. Pain exploded from his ankle—something clamped down hard, dragging him downward until half his body was swallowed by the earth.

“Monster!” he bellowed, blood bubbling from his lips as he smashed his fists downward.

At that moment, the soil to his side burst open again. Another black shape slithered silently through the darkness and bit into his struggling back.

Puff!

Blood mist filled the air. A spray of crimson splattered across the nearby altar platform. In the flickering torchlight, the man’s half-buried body convulsed as a string of entrails was yanked clean from his back—

Thud.

The emptied corpse was flung aside, landing upon the altar steps. A woman in monk’s robes approached, carefully setting the body upright in a seated position behind an ever-burning lamp. His face was peaceful now, as though in silent meditation.

That night, in the Tianzhi Imperial Palace, the Emperor paced restlessly outside the Chengyun Hall. He stood beside a stone-carved pillar, stretching his neck now and then to peer down the distant palace avenue. Seeing no one approach, he clenched his fist and struck his palm in agitation.

“Why has the Venerable Master still not arrived?”

None of the eunuchs or palace maids around dared to respond. Suddenly, a young eunuch lifted his head, eyes lighting up. He trotted quickly to the Emperor’s side, bowed deeply, and said with excitement:

“Your Majesty, the Venerable Master has arrived!”

Chen Shubao turned and saw along the palace avenue a procession slowly approaching. Amidst the faint drifting of Buddhist chants, the Emperor hastened down the jade steps to greet them.

“Venerable Master!”

The procession came to a halt. At its center, the crane-headed lotus palanquin descended gently to the ground. The curtain lifted, and out stepped a gaunt old monk clad in golden robes, wearing a tall monk’s cap with long, drooping ears. He walked forward lightly, as if treading on flower petals.

With palms joined, he bowed low. “Your Majesty.”

“No need for formality, Venerable Master. Come with Zhen to speak inside the hall.”

Chen Shubao waved his hand, gesturing the attendants to withdraw. Together with Pudu Cihang, he entered the Chengyun Hall. Once the close attendants had retreated, the Emperor finally spoke of the matter that weighed on him.

“Zhen sent thirty thousand soldiers, yet they returned in defeat. That Lu Liangsheng’s demonic arts run deep—he commands fierce and savage beasts to guard Mount Qixia’s passes. It’s as though he seeks to tear apart Zhen’s realm itself! Venerable Master, no matter what, you must act this time and aid Zhen!”

The hall was bright with lamplight. The old monk seated to the side listened expressionlessly. When the Emperor finished speaking, he slowly opened his eyes, glancing over Chen Shubao, whose body bore not even the faintest trace of dragon aura. His gaze was indifferent, almost bored.

“Father!”

A child’s voice sounded from beyond the doors. Led by eunuchs, Chen Jing entered the hall. Seeing the old monk within, the boy paused briefly, then respectfully cupped his hands.

“Greetings to the Venerable Master.”

Pudu Cihang, who had just closed his eyes again, reopened them, studying the youth at the doorway. The corner of his lips seemed to lift in the faintest hint of a smile.

“Jing’er, what brings you here?”

“Mother said I should come pay respects to Father and ask that you rest early.”

“Mm. Go on back now. We still have matters to discuss with the Venerable Master.”

When father and son finished speaking, the doors were closed once more. Before the great hall’s pillars, the frail figure of the monk rose from his seat. In the wavering light of the lamps, a cold, clear woman’s voice came from Pudu Cihang’s lips—

“Your Majesty, this humble Venerable Master shall reside within the palace and ensure Your Majesty remains unharmed.”

“Excellent!”

The Emperor, upon the imperial steps, struck the dragon desk in excitement and immediately ordered attendants to clean and prepare the palace.