Chapter 696: Cloud Without a Heart
At the Tanzhe Temple incident, no true battle occurred, yet the hidden danger lurking within was far more terrifying than most battles in the world.
On that day of autumn rain, the court and the state religion had deployed too many experts; there was simply no way to keep the news under wraps.
The world soon learned that Iron Tree had returned from the Southern Sea, arriving in the capital to kill Wang Po. At the same time, it was confirmed that Wang Po’s purpose was to kill Zhou Tong. Most importantly, people ultimately confirmed that the rift between the court and the state religion had grown ever deeper, and major trouble could erupt at any moment.
The two great powers, which had cooperated so sincerely during the Heavenly Book Mausoleum Incident, turned against each other in no time—a difficult thing to comprehend. But now, everyone understood why.
Because of Chen Changsheng.
No one noticed the chill wind seeping from the bottom of the well at Beixinqiao, nor did anyone know what Chen Changsheng was thinking at this moment.
He had not left the National Academy. He sat quietly by the window in the Scripture Depository, reading books, neither looking at the scenery outside nor asking about events beyond.
Many speculated that Her Holiness the Saint Empress’s remains were buried within the National Academy grounds, but there was no way to confirm it.
Even a figure as formidable as Old Eunuch Lin had returned in defeat. The Li Palace had clearly stated its stance. Who would dare force their way into the National Academy to investigate?
The court had not issued another decree demanding the National Academy hand over the Saint Empress’s remains, but everyone knew this matter could not simply end.
Many did not understand why Chen Changsheng was doing this, including certain high-ranking figures in the state religion, such as White Stone Daoist.
If it were merely for the inheritance rights of the state religion, with the Pope’s decree, he only needed to extend goodwill to the palace at the right moment, and the other side would surely abandon its original plans.
But he had not accepted the decree, nor had he requested an audience at the palace. He had not sent any message to those within the palace through anyone. He remained silent.
Now the entire world knew he was of the Descendant Clan, bearing the blood of the Chen family, but with no maternal bond to the Saint Empress.
Looking back over the past few years, there should have been no affection between him and the Saint Empress either.
Why did he repeatedly defy imperial decrees? Why did he express contempt for the court through his attitude toward Zhou Tong? Why did he use silence to oppose his own teacher?
Xue Xingchuan had been buried. Xue He had been arrested and brought back to the capital, locked in the Zhou Prison. For certain complex reasons, he was temporarily out of mortal danger. The Xue residence had returned to tranquility, but no one would forget the lively scene of the memorial ceremony there days ago, with representatives from many factions. Was this nostalgia for the old dynasty or hostility toward the new? Was it reverence for the Pope or a challenge to Shang Xingzhou?
If this were still the Tianhai dynasty, Zhou Tong would surely have used this matter to stir up a great storm. But now, contrary to his usual nature, he was exceptionally silent.
Anyone who knew that a man like Wang Po was hiding in the capital, ready to step out of a roadside teahouse at any moment and slash a blade of light at them, would probably be just as silent.
What was quite telling was that in recent days, Zhou Tong had not remained in the palace as he had in the first few days. Instead, he had returned to the Northern Military Command Alley to resume his duties.
“Iron Tree should be nearby. He’ll keep watching Zhou Tong,” Su Moyu said. “He’ll wait for Wang Po to make his move, then kill him. That doesn’t violate the Oath Under the Stars, and neither the Pope nor anyone else can hold it against him.”
The cold autumn wind blew in through the window, rustling the pages, but it could not change Chen Changsheng’s expression in the slightest.
Watching him sit silently by the window, Su Moyu sighed inwardly and said, “What a pity about that day at Tanzhe Temple.”
If the Li Palace had been willing to pay any price that day, killing Iron Tree in the autumn rain, the current situation wouldn’t be so thorny.
Chen Changsheng’s eyes were on the book. “It wouldn’t have been easy to kill him that day.”
Su Moyu understood he was referring to the imperial carriage on the cliff. “If Zhe Xiu had been in charge, he would have acted anyway.”
Since they were willing to pay any price, why worry about that carriage or the thunderous hoofbeats beyond the mountain?
“The Eight Winds and Rains aren’t so easy to kill. Even if they succeeded, the Li Palace would have paid a tremendous price.”
If Iron Tree had truly been killed that day, how many of the four state religion giants who emerged from the autumn rain would have survived?
Chen Changsheng looked at the page and said, “And it would have thrown the world into chaos.”
Su Moyu said, “If Tang Tang had been in charge, he would still have insisted on doing it. Because the Dao Lord surely wouldn’t want to see the world in chaos either. So, kill and be done with it.”
Chen Changsheng didn’t think things would develop as he—or rather, Tang Thirty-Six—imagined.
The Li Palace’s goal in killing Iron Tree was to protect Wang Po.
Wang Po’s purpose in coming to the capital was to kill Zhou Tong.
Zhou Tong was someone the palace had to protect.
Wang Po was someone the palace had to kill.
Chen Changsheng understood clearly that, based on these four statements alone, his teacher would not hesitate to plunge the world into chaos. And furthermore…
“Uncle-Master wouldn’t do that.”
He looked up at the bleak autumn scenery outside the window and said, “Because he’s not that kind of person.”
His Holiness the Pope was a great figure who cared for the world.
But he was no hero, still less a tyrant.
When he gazed at the stars, he felt awe. He wanted to protect Chen Changsheng and Wang Po.
But even more, he did not want the world to fall into chaos, with countless lives lost.
Keeping the situation in the capital within manageable bounds was already exhausting for him.
And what about the person sitting across the chessboard?
The palace was very quiet. Many people outside the hall had seen Shang Xingzhou’s silhouette cast by lamplight in that room, but they didn’t know what he was doing.
Shang Xingzhou must have been doing something, yet no one knew what it was.
Just like the Heavenly Book Mausoleum Incident, just like the Snow Old City Rebellion—his silence was often the prelude to a thunderclap.
No one knew where Wang Po was, either.
The whole world knew he was in the capital, that he wanted to kill someone, but they couldn’t find him.
He had vanished. And in a tavern in the southern city, there was now an extra bookkeeper from Wenshui.
…
…
The autumn in the capital deepened, then deepened further, until the chill was bone-piercing. Fortunately, lanterns and decorations were everywhere, and the lively atmosphere diluted some of the cold.
The long-awaited grand event—the Union of North and South—had finally been officially announced, and the celebration was about to take place.
The celebration was unprecedented in its grandeur. While it marked the successful union of north and south, it was also the new dynasty’s attempt to completely wash away the lingering presence of the Tianhai Saint Empress.
The envoy from White Emperor City had arrived in the capital several days early. In the end, only one of the White Emperor and his consort came.
After his earth-shattering battle with the Demon Lord, the White Emperor had sustained considerable injuries. The one who came was the Empress, also the Grand Princess of the Western Continent.
Many eyes turned toward the National Academy.
Everyone knew that the National Academy had always been extremely close to the demon race, and Chen Changsheng was even the teacher of Her Highness Luoluo.
So how would the arrival of the demon envoy affect the situation in the capital?
Chen Changsheng himself didn’t know the answer to that question.
On the day the envoy arrived in the capital, he put down his book for the first time, bathed, changed clothes, and waited for an old friend to visit.
The one who came was indeed an old friend, but not Luoluo—it was Jin Yulü.
“The Princess is at a critical moment in breaking through her cultivation level and cannot leave. I encountered Xuan Yuan Po on the road; he was seriously injured and needs to recuperate, so I didn’t bring him back.”
Jin Yulü looked at him and said, then patted him on the shoulder and sighed again.
Couldn’t leave. Didn’t come back.
Chen Changsheng felt a pang of sorrow.