Chapter 3: The Xu Mansion of Old Times
The King of Linghai, Archbishop Anlin, and others knew that for three years, someone in the capital had been corresponding with the Pope. Whether the Pope was at Snow Ridge, in Hanqiu City, or in Wenshui, those letters never ceased. That person had helped plan many things in the letters, especially in recent months. Many speculated about who the mysterious letter-writer was. The King of Linghai once wondered if it might be Tianhai Shengxue, while Archbishop Anlin believed the Prince of Chenliu was the most likely candidate.
It wasn’t until the wedding news spread across the entire continent, and Chen Changsheng prepared to return to the capital to officiate, that people learned the letter-writer was Mo Yu. As the most powerful woman in the Tianhai Dynasty—indeed, the most powerful person—many couldn’t understand why, after the death of Empress Tianhai Sheng, Mo Yu was still alive, still able to live openly in the capital, and even about to marry. Many thought it might be because of her relationship with Chen Changsheng, which made the court wary. That year, with wind and snow filling the long streets, the image of Mo Yu and Zhe Xiu flaying Zhou Tong alive on Ping’an Road remained unforgettable to this day.
But did Chen Changsheng decide to return to the capital solely because she wrote asking him to officiate the wedding? The King of Linghai and others didn’t think so. Watching Chen Changsheng’s retreating figure, they could all feel the heavy pressure bearing down on him. The invisible yet infinitely weighty sky seemed to have already settled on his shoulders.
Back in that year, on that deep, snowy night, Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng had a conversation in the National Academy. Apart from Little Black Dragon, no one knew the specifics of that talk, but the events that followed gave many a vague clue. Master and disciple Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng must have reached some agreement. Chen Changsheng left the capital, becoming the first Pope in history to be exiled. Then many stories unfolded, from Snow Ridge to Wenshui to Saintess Peak, and then to White Emperor City. Facing threats from the demon race and the Holy Light Continent, along with White Emperor’s cunning schemes, the master and disciple finally joined forces, proving the saying that “a single temple in Xining rules the world.” The tension between them seemed to ease.
But now, with Chen Changsheng deciding to return to the capital, it meant that agreement would be voided. Would this journey become an ice-breaking trip, or the beginning of a civil war among humanity?
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Late winter was ending, spring had yet to arrive, and the world remained bitterly cold. Both inside and outside the city, the Luo River was frozen still, its surface covered with a thick layer of snow, looking like an extremely wide sash. Three thousand cavalry escorted the national religion’s convoy, emerging from the horizon into the people’s view. The King of Linghai and other leaders of the national religion sat in the foremost divine carriage. Treasures like the Dark Willow from the Lí Palace emitted warm and holy light beneath the gray sky. Tens of thousands of people stood on both sides of the official road leading into the city, welcoming the return of the national religion’s delegation.
The people didn’t know exactly what had happened in White Emperor City, but they knew the demon race’s conspiracy had been thwarted, and the feared betrayal of the demon race hadn’t occurred—all thanks to the Lí Palace. Rare and precious fruits and flowers, seldom seen in deep winter, were thrown into the arms of the national religion cavalry. More gazes fell on the two extremely tall divine carriages at the rear. Those looks were filled with fervor, reverence, worship, and even fanaticism. Word had it that the Pope had returned. The Saintess had also returned.
As the procession moved slowly forward, the crowd on both sides of the official road surged ahead, making the scene even more chaotic. If not for the strict barriers set by the city gate guards, a riot might have broken out. An Hua, dressed in the ceremonial robes of the Azure Radiance Thirteen Divisions, led thousands of the most loyal national religion believers in kneeling before the two divine carriages. Then, like a tide, more and more people knelt down, a vast, dark sea—a truly spectacular sight.
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The capital had no city walls. Apart from flying carriages, the only way to see farther was from the city’s tall buildings. For the past three years, Tianhai Chengwu had lived in a manor outside the city, rarely entering the capital and even more rarely visiting the palace to meet the Emperor privately. As the head of the Tianhai family, in the current complex situation, no amount of caution was excessive. Today was an exception. He had booked the Rusong Residence, as famous as the Chenghu Tower, and invited several highly conspicuous nobles to climb high and look into the distance. Among those nobles were several divine generals, and more importantly, the Prince of Zhongshan.
Watching the tens of thousands of people kneeling like a tide in the distance, the divine generals’ faces darkened. As favored students of Chen Guansong, the former dean of the Star-Picking Academy, they were highly valued by Shang Xingzhou. Such a scene naturally made them uncomfortable. But they said nothing—they couldn’t. Those people were bowing to the Pope and the Saintess; it was only natural. Moreover, at the joint retreat ceremony of Nanxi Studio, the Pope had personally killed the White Tiger Divine General in front of Prince Xiang. And what had the court done about it?
Tianhai Chengwu looked at the woman in the Azure Radiance Thirteen Divisions robes at the front of the crowd and frowned slightly. “Who is this?” he asked. Apart from her relationship with Archbishop Anlin, An Hua was an ordinary priest. But now, she had become very famous in the capital, especially in the northern continent. Soon, subordinates reported her background to him.
“A bunch of foolish men and women!” Tianhai Chengwu said heavily. “What are they doing? Is this a show of force against the court?”
“A show of force? This is the will of the people, and it was brought about by that ‘foolish woman’ you speak of,” said the Prince of Zhongshan. His face was as sour as ever, as if everyone in the world owed him money—perhaps because he could never forget being forced to eat those feces back then—but his tone had become much calmer.
Tianhai Chengwu understood his meaning. Chen Changsheng had secluded himself for three years, yet in such a short time, he had gained so much loyalty and so many accolades. Of course, it was related to the preaching of the Lí Palace, especially the fanatical believers led by An Hua. His gaze left An Hua and fell on the two divine carriages behind, and he narrowed his eyes. With his level of cultivation, he could easily tell that those two carriages were empty.
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Three years later, Chen Changsheng returned to the capital. He didn’t go back to the Lí Palace, nor to the National Academy, nor to the palace to see his senior brother. Instead, he went directly to a mansion. Many years ago, when he first arrived in the capital, he had also come straight here, without looking at the stone pillars and ivy outside the Lí Palace, or visiting the Heavenly Book Mound. Because of that, the mistress of this mansion had held him in great contempt.
This mansion was, of course, the Eastern Imperial Divine General’s Mansion. The Xu Mansion was still as it had been back then, filled with a chilling, martial atmosphere. “Governing a household is like commanding an army”—that was no empty saying. All the maids and servants had been sent far away. In the flower hall, only a few people remained. Chen Changsheng sat in a chair. Madam Xu Shiji, Old Lady Hua, and Shuang’er stood in the hall. The atmosphere was extremely awkward, and even the tension hidden within seemed unable to flow, as if frozen solid. (To be continued.)