Chapter 186: The Little White Flower Resting on Her Temple, Murderous Intent Gradually Rising
An even more imposing mountain-like figure appeared before the imperial city.
It was the Patriarch of the Xiang Clan. He looked at Chen Changsheng and said coldly, "It is already late at night. Even His Holiness the Pope should not enter the palace."
Then he turned to look at Luoluo and said, "Your Highness must still consider the dignity of the White Emperor Clan in your actions."
These words sounded calm, but they carried immense weight.
Luoluo looked at this elder who had doted on her since childhood and suddenly felt that his face was very unfamiliar.
Chen Changsheng knew the status of this Xiang Clan Patriarch within the Council of Elders and could clearly sense his unfathomable strength.
Yet his reaction remained calm, direct, and resolute.
Like a shallow stream, its surface mirror-smooth, clear to the bottom, with nothing but hard stones between the swimming fish.
He said, "I want to pass through the passage in the imperial city to reach the Falling Star Mountains and see His Majesty the White Emperor. Why are you stopping me?"
The Xiang Clan Patriarch's expression tightened. He had never expected Chen Changsheng to so openly admit his intentions.
Then he suddenly realized that this question was very difficult to answer.
Under the current tense situation, Chen Changsheng wanting to enter the imperial city late at night was suspicious from any angle, giving him ample reason to object.
But when Chen Changsheng revealed his intentions, those reasons for objection suddenly lost much of their force.
Why hadn't he thought of this problem beforehand?
The Xiang Clan Patriarch stared into Chen Changsheng's exceptionally clear and calm eyes, wondering if it was true that the simpler one's mind, the harder it was to be deceived by fog and miasma?
Yet he still had to prevent Chen Changsheng from entering the imperial city.
"The entire continent knows that His Majesty is in seclusion healing from his injuries, at a critical juncture where he cannot be disturbed. For Your Holiness the Pope to insist on seeing him—what exactly are your intentions?"
"The alliance between our two races concerns the safety of the continent. His Majesty the White Emperor cares deeply for all living beings. How could he simply focus on healing and completely ignore such matters?"
Chen Changsheng looked at him and said, "You won't let me see His Majesty—what are your intentions? Guilty conscience? Or fear?"
Though these words were not explicit, their meaning was perfectly clear. Who couldn't understand?
The wind before the imperial city seemed to turn several degrees colder in an instant.
Xiang Qiu roared in anger, "Don't you dare slander us!"
Chen Changsheng continued looking at the Xiang Clan Patriarch and asked, "Is this your idea, or Madam Mu's? What exactly are you planning?"
He completely ignored Xiang Qiu.
As the Pope, the only one in all of White Emperor City qualified to speak with him on equal footing was Madam Mu.
The Xiang Clan Patriarch, as the head of the Yao race's largest clan and the chief elder of the Council of Elders, barely qualified.
Xiang Qiu was merely the son of the Xiang Clan Patriarch. No matter how strong his power, what right did he have to demand that Chen Changsheng respond to his words?
To Chen Changsheng, this wasn't deliberate disregard—just a normal reaction. But to Xiang Qiu, it was a tremendous humiliation.
When he noticed the shift in the situation, his expression turned uglier than ever, and his aura grew increasingly dark.
The experts who had torn through the night alongside him, preparing to launch a historic encirclement and slaughter, remained silent and solemn.
But the several cavalry commanders accompanying them had clearly changed expressions.
Before Chen Changsheng spoke these words, no one among the Yao race had worried about His Majesty the White Emperor's safety, let alone thought of such terrible conspiracies.
The White Emperor's status among the Yao race was too exalted, like a deity.
No one had ever imagined he could fall victim to a plot.
Of course, the fact that Chen Changsheng's words could influence the situation was also related to his identity.
The words of the Pope and the words of an ordinary passerby naturally had vastly different effects.
More importantly, over the past few months, the story of the Cinnabar Pill and the legend of the Pope saving the world with his blood had spread across the entire continent.
And because of past events, the Yao race had a very favorable impression of Chen Changsheng, never believing he would lie.
Chen Changsheng did not wait for the atmosphere before the imperial city to grow more complicated, nor did he wait for answers to his questions.
"No one can stop me from seeing His Majesty the White Emperor."
He looked into the Xiang Clan Patriarch's eyes and said seriously, "Unless you kill me."
Having said this, he walked forward.
Under the cover of night, the imperial city was very quiet. The sound of his footsteps was very clear.
Thousands of elite Yao race cavalry, along with Yao race experts either hidden in the darkness or tearing through it to reveal themselves, stood in silent, tense confrontation.
The same blood flowed through their bodies, and at this moment, the same cold sweat trickled down their skin.
With each step Chen Changsheng took, the atmosphere within the imperial city grew more tense.
As Chen Changsheng drew closer, the Xiang Clan Patriarch's expression grew more solemn.
As Chen Changsheng moved farther away, Xiang Qiu's face grew darker.
Chen Changsheng's words might make some people suspicious, even change their stance, but they believed they had enough power to detain him.
They could even kill him.
And they were not afraid to kill him.
Because at this moment, they were furious.
In their eyes, Chen Changsheng was too insidious, not at all like a Pope, but more like the legendary Mo race strategist, Black Robe.
How could he use such shameless lies to frame and slander them?
...
...
The Red River Yao race guards before the imperial city silently parted, like a tide splitting open.
Chen Changsheng walked past the Xiang Clan Patriarch without even glancing at him.
Seeing this scene, Xiang Qiu let out a muffled groan, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth—he had suffered a hidden injury.
Even so, neither he nor his father made a move against Chen Changsheng.
Because deep within the imperial city, beneath the night, it remained utterly silent, with no sound emerging.
And so Chen Changsheng walked into the imperial city, just as he had a few nights before.
Back when he was still a young Daoist from Xining Town, he had entered the capital with that same calm gaze and resolute expression.
Then, he saw Madam Mu.
Beneath a pear tree in front of a stone hall.
It was not the season for pear blossoms, but since the pear tree on the viewing platform had bloomed a few days ago, this one was naturally covered in blossoms as well.
A night breeze gently stirred—whether from the Falling Star Mountains to the north or the great sea to the west, no one could tell.
Countless white flowers fell from the branches, scattering on the ground and landing on her as well.
A small white flower landed squarely in her hair, trembling slightly in the wind. It looked beautiful, yet seemed to harbor a trace of sorrow.
Her white dress was plain and clean, yet exuded solemn dignity.
Her pupils were dark and bright, reflecting the starlight, deep and profound, as if holding the secrets of heaven—or the intent to kill.
Her expression was indifferent, but also concealed a faint hint of sadness.
Had someone died?
Was she in mourning?
That uncle from the Western Continent named Mu?
Or someone closer?
Or perhaps herself, in a little while?
Chen Changsheng pondered this question, but did not want to know the answer.
...