Chapter 945: The Young Man from the Demon Race
Madam Mu's gaze swept over the towering, mountain-like bodies of the demon generals.
"I understand what you're thinking. Luoheng is my own daughter. If she were capable of inheriting the throne, would His Majesty and I still be so troubled? Rumors are ultimately just rumors—whether from these past few days or from years ago. No matter how brilliant the Pope is, he was merely a teenager back then. Do you truly believe he could solve a problem our race has failed to resolve for tens of thousands of years? It's nothing more than a scheme concocted by the humans."
These words were highly logical and very persuasive.
The elders, generals, and ministers in the hall thought about how, over these past few years, Princess Luoheng had remained as small and delicate as in her childhood, still failing to complete even the fourth Divine Body Transformation. She was indeed nothing like His Majesty back then. Believing that her meridian problem had indeed not been resolved, they couldn't help but sigh with regret inwardly.
The Grand Elder was not convinced. "I wish to see His Majesty."
Madam Mu stared into his eyes. "You know His Majesty is recovering from his injuries."
The Grand Elder said, "I am aware, but the succession of our demon race is a matter of great importance. His Majesty should forgive my intrusion."
Madam Mu was silent for a moment, then said, "If His Majesty is willing to see you, then naturally he may."
...
...
An hour later, the Grand Elder returned to the hall. The oil candles stuck into the stone walls flickered without any wind.
Countless pairs of eyes fell upon the Grand Elder, eager to know whether he had seen His Majesty the White Emperor and what His Majesty had said.
The Grand Elder shook his head. "I did not see His Majesty."
The demon elders, ministers, and generals in the hall let out sighs of regret.
"But I felt His Majesty's will, so I will no longer oppose this matter."
The Grand Elder looked at Madam Mu and said, "However, this matter must follow the tens of thousands of years of succession rules of our race. Even if the Princess is to marry, it cannot be a private arrangement. The Heavenly Tree's Desolate Fire must choose its own master, in accordance with the will of the ancestral spirits and the gods."
Upon hearing this, murmurs arose in the hall again. But since this was already part of the rumors, it wasn't too surprising.
Madam Mu said, "You mean to formally hold the Heavenly Selection Ceremony?"
"Correct." The Grand Elder's hand once again rested on his axe handle. "Otherwise, we will still rebel."
Madam Mu stared into his eyes. "Everything must follow the clan's rules, without the slightest error. Do you dare to promise that?"
The Grand Elder said, "Your Highness has been deeply respected by the people of our race for centuries. I am old, and I only hope everything remains as before."
With that, he walked out of the hall, his mountain-like body casting a large shadow on the floor.
Most of the demon elders in the hall and about half of the ministers and generals bowed to Madam Mu and followed the Grand Elder out.
Madam Mu was silent for a moment, then waved her sleeve, signaling her loyal subjects to leave.
The hall fell silent, leaving only her.
The oil candles emitted bright light, but there was a faint burnt smell, and the night wind made the light uneven.
Hundreds of years had passed, yet she still hadn't gotten used to it. She still missed the gentle glow of the mermaid pearls in the palace of the Western Continent.
The stone walls were clearly illuminated, appearing polished smooth, but under her gaze, she could naturally see the unevenness.
How could such coarse stone be worthy of entering the palace? This was something she could never have imagined when she was a princess in the Western Continent.
Yes, she had been in White Emperor City for many years, yet there were still many things she couldn't get used to.
For instance, the things mentioned earlier, or what had just happened.
If this were the Western Continent or the human capital, an attitude like the Grand Elder's would have long resulted in execution.
But this was White Emperor City. For tens of thousands of years, the demons living here had conducted themselves this way—discussing matters so directly, or rather, so barbarically.
Truly a bunch of uncivilized beasts.
She couldn't get used to it, nor could she truly change any of it, because she was only the Empress, not the White Emperor.
She stood in the center of the empty hall, silent for a long time.
Wind came from the distant Western Sea, howling into the mountains.
Many fish in the lake behind the mountain, as blue as the sea, had died.
A faint smile appeared on her face, infinitely kind, like a mother looking at her child.
She was, after all, the mother of all demon subjects.
The light and shadow shifted slightly, and a young man walked in.
That young man was very handsome, tall and slender, with an excellent demeanor.
He was the Second Prince of the Western Continent.
Madam Mu looked at him with pity and said, "It's been a wasted trip for you this time. I'm sorry for the trouble."
The Second Prince smiled and said, "What's a little wind and rain for my cousin's happiness? Besides, I haven't seen the scenery along the Red River's banks in years. I've missed it."
Madam Mu said, "Once the Heavenly Selection begins, entering the Heavenly Tree to contemplate the Desolate Fire will be very beneficial for your cultivation."
"It's rare to come here, so of course I want to gain some benefits. But... which fine husband have you chosen for my cousin?"
The Second Prince looked at her curiously and asked, "How can you be so sure he will be chosen by the ancestral spirits?"
Madam Mu said, "I only ensure he enters the Heavenly Tree to undergo the Desolate Fire's baptism. Whether he is chosen by the demon ancestral spirits depends on his own ability."
The Second Prince thought for a moment and said, "Is it Xiao De?"
Madam Mu patted his arm and said, "Don't overthink it. Spend more time with your aunt. She's been in a bad mood lately."
The Second Prince sneered, "If I hadn't known Chen Changsheng wasn't coming, I would have definitely crossed hands with him."
...
...
The day the Western Continent delegation arrived in White Emperor City.
That was the second day after Bie Yanghong and Wuqiong Bi arrived in White Emperor City.
That was the third day after the internal strife at Nanxi Zhai.
That was the day before the Heavenly Selection Ceremony began.
At that time, Chen Changsheng was still on Li Mountain, having not yet received the letter Hongyan had brought from the capital, nor obtained his master Shang Xingzhou's personal letter from Prince Louyang.
Neither the imperial court nor the state religion had received any news from White Emperor City. Even someone as insightful as Shang Xingzhou had his gaze temporarily fixed on the northern Snow Old City.
No one knew that many days ago, a person had set out from Snow Old City and entered White Emperor City on the same day as the Western Continent delegation.
That young man smoothly passed the demon guards' inspection and settled into a courtyard in the eastern part of the city.
That courtyard had existed there for many years, very ordinary, but very spacious. The ground was covered in yellow sand, making it look like a desert.
Scattered among the yellow sand were traces of blood, shimmering with a luster as if mixed with gold dust, but they had long lost their scent.
Deep in the yellow sand stood a tree.
The tree wasn't very large, nor were its leaves very dense, but the shadow it cast on the ground was vast, without any patches of light, as dark as true night.
That young man stood beneath the tree.
Although the shadow was thick, it was still clear to see that there were no demon horns on his head. No wonder he had entered the city so easily.
"This is the last foothold of my divine race in White Emperor City? Green blood and yellow sand—how interesting."
That young man clasped his hands behind his back, looking around with great interest, but it was unclear who he was speaking to.
"If the White Emperor isn't truly asleep, this is too dangerous. Leave quickly, Strategist."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The wind gently rustled the leaves, and the shadows swayed restlessly, like robes fluttering, or like someone speaking.
The courtyard, filled with yellow sand, was left with only that young man, his hands clasped behind his back.
He looked up at the sky.
The winter sunlight fell on his face.
His complexion was somewhat pale, looking unhealthy.
He squinted his eyes.
Clasping hands behind the back, looking up at the sky, squinting—it seemed all the great figures of the world liked such gestures.
Yes, this young man from Snow Old City was a truly great figure.
He was the young Demon Lord that Chen Changsheng had once seen in the Snow Ridge.