Chapter 141: I shall sever half your Qi Fate!

Aside from the little prince who was currently sound asleep in a groggy stupor, the other princes all appraised the man before them, the one wearing an elder’s mask, from head to toe. The Crown Prince felt an instinctive sense of peril, a cold wind pressing against his face that he could not shake off. His brows knit slightly, and he tightened his grip on his unconscious younger brother.

The Fourth Prince, on the other hand, felt as though he were beholding a reclusive scholar from the wilds. A sense of clarity and ease welled up within him. He smiled and nodded politely, saying: “I am Li Hui.”

“Greetings, sir.”

The Seventh Prince’s eyes sparkled faintly. Holding an exquisitely crafted teapot in one hand, he poured tea into his cup. Then, tilting his head back, he drank as though it were wine, bursting into laughter as he said: “Mister Qi seems like someone who’s well-versed in battle. The courtyard outside is quite spacious—why don’t we go out and have a little spar?”

“Will you be using a spear or an axe?”

Qi Wuhuo swept his gaze over the princes, his expression calm beneath the mask.

What he hadn’t expected was that the emperor’s sons, who had already grown into their own, had all gathered here.

Was it that the Central Province(Zhongzhou) was truly an extraordinary place, such that these princes would come together here before heading to the capital?

Or was it that a single sword strike had disrupted the Crown Prince’s fate?

With the Eastern Palace bereft of its rightful heir, the fates of the princes began to intertwine and affect one another. As a result, the others were drawn here—such was the karmic configuration known as [The Flood Dragon Devours the True Dragon]. The young Daoist’s gaze grew subdued, withdrawing his earlier curiosity. He replied calmly: “This poor Daoist is merely here to dispel doubts and answer questions. As for you gentlemen, who would like to ask first?”

The Fourth Prince smiled faintly and said: “That’s true. I didn’t intend to ask much at first…”

“But upon seeing Sir’s bearing, there are indeed some things I wish to inquire about.”

“The rules of the Mingzhen Dao Alliance state that the Dao cannot be passed to six ears. So, during the answering of doubts, it must be done with only two people present, correct?”

The Seventh Prince raised his thick brows and instinctively remarked: “Two people alone, huh? That’s the perfect setup for making a move.”

“Kill any one of us in there, and you could instantly spark a flame between the Dao Alliance and the imperial court.”

“And from there, the rift between court and sects could be widened.”

“If internal strife breaks out, then the demon nation outside will definitely seize the opportunity to stir up trouble.”

At once sensing the atmosphere become tense, the Seventh Prince quickly took a sip of tea, scratched his head, then burst out laughing: “Ahaha, I misspoke, truly. I’ve spent too long out on the frontier—nothing to do there but listen to rough men ramble on. Once those louts drink a few cups, they love to talk state affairs. Just look at me, I’ve been influenced by their nonsense.”

“Aiya, a thousand years of the Dao Alliance’s reputation—I naturally trust it completely.”

“Well then, I’ll be the first to ask.”

The Seventh Prince rose to his feet. Only now did the others see how tall and broad-shouldered he truly was—more than eight feet in height, with wild, thick eyebrows. Grinning cheerfully, he clasped his hands in salute. At the side, a meditation chamber prepared by the Dao Alliance stood ready. But just as the two were about to enter, the Crown Prince chuckled lightly and said: “My cousin sang the praises of this place. As the heir apparent, I, too, place my trust in the Dao Alliance.”

“Allow me to go first.”

“Hahaha, since eldest brother wishes to go first, how could a younger brother dare compete with him?”

Before anyone could react, the Seventh Prince plopped right back down even faster than he’d stood up, laughing with an honest and good-natured expression.

The Crown Prince’s smile froze slightly. Using the pretext of needing to tend to his sleeping younger brother, he brought the child along as he entered.

Inside, he saw that the man calling himself ‘Mister Qi’ was already seated.

The room was suffused with a quiet, mystical light—perfect for introspection and inquiry—and it subtly elevated the presence of the man in grey robes, giving him an ancient, refined air tinged with a faint chill.

The handsome prince smiled faintly and said: “My younger brother is still a child, not yet awake. I hope Mr. Qi will not take offense.”

Qi Wuhuo replied calmly: “It is of no concern.”

The sword case had already been compacted to a mere foot in length and stowed within a hidden pocket.

At this moment, the Kill the Thief Sword seemed to have developed a faint trace of sentience.

Before, though it brimmed with spiritual resonance, it could only be released, not yet restrained.

But after that Great Dao Sovereign knocked three times upon the case, the blade had undergone a transformation—from fierce and unyielding like raging fire, to a state of ease where it could be freely released and withdrawn.

The young Daoist lightly tapped the sword case, his gaze slightly narrowing. With the sword’s aid, he could now clearly ‘see’ the Crown Prince’s pillar of fortune. It appeared to have been veiled through some secret technique and no longer stood out obviously, but Qi Wuhuo glanced at the slumbering young prince and recalled the methods once described by the fortune-teller, and the disaster-avoidance techniques that Yun Qin had spoken of.

Yet he could clearly see that some subtle strand of the little prince’s fate was being slowly devoured, drawn into the Crown Prince’s own fortune.

The young Daoist’s fingers, hanging at his side, moved ever so slightly in calculation. He had already deduced it—this was a configuration recorded in the ancient texts, a quintessential and classic fate formation:

【Python Devours Dragon】.

The Crown Prince’s destiny had been severed—like a dragon whose horn had been cut off, reduced to a mere python. In order to avoid perishing, he now had to devour a dragon to maintain his survival.

And yet, the Way of the Human Emperor was, after all, a path of cultivating both essence and life.

To devour the fortune of one’s own blood kin in such a ruthless and unrestrained fashion—if the one being devoured had solid cultivation and a spiritual foundation, it might still be somewhat manageable. But this young prince so clearly lacked any such foundation. Under such reckless consumption by the person closest to him, he had fallen into an abnormally prolonged coma.

Though his life would not be lost…

His future path of cultivating fortune and fate had already been severed.

And even with this madness, the Crown Prince’s own fate could not truly be restored.

He had never truly come to ask any questions.

Being the first to arrive at this place was only so he could press down upon his brothers, asserting superiority from the outset.

He merely made idle conversation, grandiose in tone, but shallow in substance.

Qi Wuhuo saw through the Crown Prince’s frenzied act of devouring his younger brother’s fate, but he had no intention of drawing his sword. His gaze landed on the white jade thumb ring that the Crown Prince kept turning between his fingers—its surface was steeped in potent Fortune. 

Qi Wuhuo recalled the Human Dao texts he’d been studying lately and fell into thought.

Human Dao Fortune was to gather a strand of the Primordial Spirit of all under heaven into oneself, then command the spirit of the people to fight—

To kill, or to protect.

The strength of one could stand against the strength of ten thousand, even tens of millions.

Thus, it was vast and domineering in the extreme.

Qi Wuhuo had previously pondered how this Human Dao fate truly coalesced such chaotic Primordial Spirit and Primordial Qi into one body. And now, seeing this thumb ring saturated with overwhelming fortune, he suddenly formed a conjecture—

The collective Primordial Spirit and Primordial Qi of the masses must surely be jumbled and impure. To gather them into one body would be akin to swallowing poison, subject to backlash, erosion, and the slow dissolution of the self.

Thus, this kind of power surely had to be condensed outside the body. As things stood now, it seemed that in the end, it would inevitably converge upon the [Human Dao Vessel], transforming into [Human Dao Fortune] that directly paralleled [Qi] itself.

In other words, had the Crown Prince’s imperial seal already shattered?

The young Daoist looked toward the Crown Prince, who was still chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened. Yet he had already deduced the immense storm the prince would bring upon returning to the capital.

That Human Emperor, today’s living sage.

What he craved was a world entirely under his control.

Yet with a single sword strike, the Crown Prince had already been ruined. Now deprived of both fate and imperial status, the Crown Prince had in turn devoured the fortune of the youngest prince.

Thus—the blade is no longer a blade.

And the one that blade was meant to protect… the final hidden seedling… could no longer give rise to the next generation of Human Emperors.

Oh, Emperor… this one sword of mine has shattered the scheme you laid out fifty years in advance. I wonder—do you still find it to your liking?

And yet, rather than calling it a contest of chess…

It was more as if that sword had flipped over the board itself—upending the game that the Emperor had so carefully arranged in his heart, the game that would crown him with the name of the [Literary Emperor(Emperor Wen)], a game of perfect harmony. Now, the chess pieces had scattered all over the floor with a crisp clatter.

Because of the attrition in this act of devouring fate, and because of the Crown Prince’s own fate collapsing, some of the Human Dao Fortune had inevitably begun to drift outward. At first, Qi Wuhuo paid it little mind, but without realizing it, that fate-energy had already spread throughout the entire chamber. His sleeve gathered it up without resistance, and the Kill the Thief Sword let out a faint, resonant cry—it could barely be restrained any longer.

Qi Wuhuo continued to casually converse with the Crown Prince about cultivation paths and the experiences of those beyond the world of court and power. Yet his voice suddenly paused for a moment.

It seems this object cannot bear the prince’s luck. Would he rather waste away that fortune, simply to maintain this illusion of normalcy?

His attachment to the position of Crown Prince ran deep indeed.

But after this incense stick’s worth of time spent in close proximity, Qi Wuhuo now harbored a faint suspicion in his heart. The Human Dao Vessel, and the transformations of one’s Primordial Spirit brought about by the experience of serving as an official in the imperial court—might these two, in union, be the core method for commanding [Human Dao Fortune]?

The Crown Prince’s fortune was vast and forceful, but now severed—yet still devouring the fate of his siblings.

Thus, Qi Wuhuo could clearly see the trajectory of fate shifting and transforming upon the Crown Prince’s body.

Cross-referencing with the records found in the Human Dao scriptures, he slowly pieced together fragments of the truth.

From ancient times to the present, there has never been anyone with an opportunity quite like his—able to observe the ebb and flow of Human Dao Fortune in such a direct manner.

It was as if the complete downfall of a Crown Prince and a younger prince had been orchestrated solely to lay bare, before his very eyes, the mechanics behind the circulation of imperial fate, instructing him in the true nature of Human Dao Fortune.

So long as one was not dull of mind, an observation this direct would be more than enough to bring understanding.

The young Daoist murmured: “Is this the [capacity and measure] of a true hegemon?”

Then followed a flicker of curiosity—Could I as well?

In the Yellow Millet Dream, there had also been transformations in his Primordial Spirit. Was this not akin to the experience in this mortal world?

He suddenly recalled a line from one of the scrolls penned by the Great Dao Sovereign, which had once said: Since one now walks the Dao, one’s gaze must stretch far.

To look far, to harbor a broad mind and a vast heart—then one would understand: in these three thousand worlds, there exists nothing beyond one’s reach.

The young Daoist whispered inwardly, What is called divine ability is merely that which ordinary men dare not dream, that which ordinary men cannot achieve.

If serving as an official in the court could indeed cause a shift in the Primordial Spirit, and if, when coupled with the Human Dao Vessel, one could truly command Human Dao Fortune, then who was to say the experiences within the Yellow Millet Dream were invalid? Why not give it a try?

Qi Wuhuo’s right hand slowly curled inward, pressing against his sword case. A wisp of Innate Qi touched the Kill the Thief Sword sealed within.

The blade gave off a long, sonorous hum.

He composed himself, sitting upright with a solemn expression, eyelids lightly closing.

He stirred the hidden fragments of memory buried within his Primordial Spirit, and his very aura began to shift, long and deep.

The Crown Prince, meanwhile, was gently cradling his slumbering younger brother in an affectionate embrace, casually chatting with an air of good cheer: “The common folk suffer endlessly. If cultivators like yourself were willing to enter my court and use your divine powers for the benefit of the people, then how could our human race not rise to stand above all others beneath Heaven? How could the people not find peace and prosperity?”

He spoke with eloquence and confidence—but then suddenly faltered, if only slightly.

He was not quite sure if it was merely his imagination, but as he looked toward the man before him, and suddenly felt that he was not wearing a mask at all.

Though his voice was young, the man’s true nature was unspeakably old.

Old and heavy—his aura unfathomable. There was something about him that faintly resembled the feeling of standing before the Grand Chancellor himself. Yet for some reason, this was even more daunting.

No—that wasn’t right. The Crown Prince revised his judgment inwardly: this presence was one that surpassed even the Grand Chancellor’s gravitas. It bore such invisible weight that it made him feel as if he could not even raise his head in its presence. A sense of tension crept over him instinctively.

But then, this pressure vanished as quickly as it had come.

As if it had all been his imagination.

Outside the window, a bird’s cry could be heard. Before him still sat nothing more than an ordinary Daoist.

Qi Wuhuo opened his eyes.

His gaze was clear and tranquil.

There was a faint sigh within his heart—not a sigh from the perspective of his current identity as the abstruse and mysterious Daoist, but from the standpoint of Master Wuhuo within that illusory Yellow Millet Dream, so real yet unreal, so false yet seemingly true. Beneath his wide sleeves, a strand of pure qi coiled gently around his fingers, incomparably compliant—

More than fifty years as both general and minister, his status reaching the pinnacle of the realm, bearing the title of Duke Qi, and only now did he truly sense what was meant by [Human Dao Fortune].

The Human Dao Fortune dissipating from the Crown Prince had been taken under control by the young Daoist’s Primordial Spirit.

And with utter smoothness.

The current path of imperial fortune within the human realm was one that walked the road of [robbing the insufficient to serve the excessive]—a path of plundering and authoritarian power.

But pure Human Dao Fortune itself, at least to the degree manifested by the Crown Prince, possessed no true self-awareness, nor spiritual clarity.

It was not yet capable of distinguishing the Yellow Millet Dream, personally crafted by the Taishang, from the present world.

And before this dissipating strand of fate, the presence felt from the young man before it was not that of a carefree and reclusive Taishang Xuanwei True Person. Instead, it was the towering figure from the Shenwu Dynasty, the unparalleled Grandmaster who had served both as general and minister—the Duke of Qi of the First Rank, the Grand General of the Three Armies, the Junior Preceptor to the Crown Prince, the Grand Tutor of the New Dynasty.

In the presence of such a being, when choosing between one whose imperial fate had already been abolished and this towering grand figure, it was as natural as water flowing downhill—it would seek vitality, flowing downward and inevitably converging upon Qi Wuhuo.

What was lacking was merely the Human Dao Vessel capable of invoking and storing this fortune.

That alone was why it could not yet be retained.

So Qi Wuhuo simply guided the fortune into the Kill the Thief Sword.

And upon the long blade, its spiritual resonance became ever more vivid.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, for reasons he could not fathom, began to feel a growing weariness—as though the backlash from the fate he had barely managed to suppress earlier was once again rising. His expression grew fatigued, and the light-hearted tone of conversation gradually faded. Qi Wuhuo lowered his gaze and gently concluded the exchange: “Your Highness is weary. Perhaps we should continue this conversation another day.”

The Crown Prince forced a smile and said: “Today’s conversation was most enjoyable. I shall certainly return to disturb the gentleman another time.”

He rose to leave—but then turned, asking: “My identity, sir, you must be aware of it.”

“Then may I ask—do you believe that I, in the days to come, might bear the title of Human Emperor?”

The young Daoist lowered his eyes in silence.

But in that moment, within the Crown Prince’s eyes, it was as if he caught a sudden glimpse of an ancient elder gazing at him—tall of frame, with unfathomable qi around him, holding a sword in hand, capable of slaying tyrants above and traitorous ministers below. His might was like the sea, like the abyss. And in another blink, that vision was gone, his spirit sense revealed only the youthful Daoist once more. The latter responded:

“Only benevolence and virtue may crown one as emperor beneath Heaven.”

The Crown Prince bowed stiffly, saying, “Then—I have been enlightened.”

As he stepped through the door, he did not notice until then that his back was already drenched in cold sweat.

Qi Wuhuo sat once more.

His eyes lowered slightly.

The sword case was now many times heavier. The Kill the Thief Sword within surged with a fierce and concentrated aura.

It had already devoured half of the Crown Prince’s imperial fortune.

The Sword’s Momentum was already taking shape.

PS:

There was an error in the previous chapter—the one who laughed was the Seventh Prince, not the Sixth.

The lineup is: the Crown Prince, Fourth Prince, Seventh Prince, Qin Wang, and the youngest prince—five in total.