Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 34: The Choice

“That is only because you know nothing of true power,” Wang Chuan said calmly. “To gaze at the sky from the bottom of a well and believe that is all there is to heaven and earth.”

“In ancient times, the martial path flourished in its prime. There were a hundred schools, each with their own strengths—what kind of divine arts and supreme techniques could not be found then?”

“You teach her to suppress her demonic aura; I will impart two more methods, allowing her to blend with the world, to keep her human form.”

In the end, this was the best approach Wang Chuan could offer.

“Very well,” the Sixth Princess replied helplessly. Dealing with Wang Chuan was truly this difficult.

This man was far too domineering and unyielding; whatever he set his mind to, he would see through to the end. She was curious to see what kind of miraculous arts he possessed, capable of shifting the heavens and earth.

Right before her eyes, Wang Chuan suddenly exploded into a swirl of primordial energy, both real and illusory. Like a mirage, he manifested surging waves, blue skies, white clouds, islands, demonic beasts, and humans.

For a brief moment, not a single trace could be found—even the fluctuations of magical power, breathing, heartbeat—all vanished.

“This is the ‘Sea Mist Mirage Art’. Once employed, it transforms endlessly, making it impossible for others to defend against. Cultivated from the mist of the deep sea, it allows one to change at will, hide one’s tracks, and bewilder enemies—unmatched by any other. Demonic aura can be disguised as human, and human aura as demonic,” Wang Chuan explained.

Gradually, his voice grew ethereal, drifting through the air. Before them, only phantoms could be seen flitting like ghosts in all directions. Hundreds and thousands of illusions shimmered, making it impossible to discern which was the real Fang Han and which were shadows. This, too, was a divine art.

“True Form, Phantom Shadow! When your entire being resonates with heaven and earth, none shall ever break through your concealment!”

Wang Chuan had put great thought into this.

Bringing her here was also for the sake of her cultivation; suppressing her own demonic aura for too long would eventually throw her yin and yang out of balance.

Today, she needed to make progress, and with guidance, she would.

The Empress, though dressed in simple home attire, could not hide her innate grace. Without any deliberate ornamentation, she exuded mature allure; years of luxury and her own careful maintenance kept her skin tender and her figure proud. Even her voice was dreamy and enchanting, and her oval face, smooth as jade, had a captivating charm.

At that moment, Wang Chuan raised both hands high as if performing a secret art, communing with the forces of heaven and earth.

The Sixth Princess wondered curiously how he intended to help the Empress advance.

But soon, unexpectedly, moonlight cascaded down.

On closer look, it was a single beam of light drawn down by him, falling upon the Empress.

These past days, the night sky over Fucheng had been bleak, the moon never seen. Yet Wang Chuan, in pursuit of lunar essence, had seemingly pierced a hole in the heavens, torn apart the clouds, and pulled down the moonlight.

Such a feat was beyond belief; the Sixth Princess had never even heard of such a thing.

At the same time, as the moon spirit suffused her body, the Empress suddenly raised her head and let out a sharp cry.

Behind her, fox tails unfurled. Each long tail bristled with silver fur, straight as needles. Her eyes gleamed with demonic light as she instinctively drew in the moon’s essence.

The woods rustled all around, and in that moment, foxes by the dozens came bounding toward the cliff top.

Sensing others were present, they hesitated only briefly before continuing forward.

Bathed in moonlight, they all bowed in worship.

The mountainside was blanketed with fluffy foxes—a spectacular sight.

“Spiritual Foxes Worshipping the Moon?”

The Sixth Princess was shaken to her core and took a long time to recover.

As the sixth princess of the fox clan, she was naturally familiar with this, recalling her own childhood days of cultivation in the forests with her elders.

The fox clan, in truth, cultivated by night.

Their nature was gentle and quiet; they favored tranquility.

Especially when cultivating beneath the moon, it felt as if they could commune with the heavens, drawing power from the lunar radiance.

The fox clan’s supreme art—the Celestial Fox Method—was most effective in this way.

Vast mist rolled, moonlight gleamed.

As the moonlight spread like a clear spring, bathing their forms, all felt refreshed, as if enlightenment dawned.

On the cliff, clouds swirled, exotic fragrances filled the air, myriad lotus petals drifted down, and gentle rain fell, transforming the place into a scene of auspicious blessing.

Among them, some foxes’ spiritual light shone bright, their cultivation nearing completion. With a stroke of fortune, they might shed their beast forms, take on human shape, and strive for divinity.

Wang Chuan had summoned the moon’s essence and suffused the Empress with lunar spirit—this was her chance.

But it was also a chance for all these foxes.

One by one, as they departed, each made a deep bow to Wang Chuan.

Long after, on the cliff top, only a sigh lingered amid the clear breeze and desolate wilds.

...

“How is it to cut an axe handle? Without the right axe, it cannot be done. How is it to take a wife? Without a matchmaker, it cannot be accomplished.

Cutting the axe handle, the right one is not far. I have met the one, and the offerings are ready.”

Yang Hao was reading “The Felling of the Axe Handle” from Book of Songs: Airs of Bin—a mountain song from the Western Zhou, describing a poet who, upon meeting a maiden he fancied, beseeched a matchmaker to speak on his behalf, and at last, the marriage was settled with a grand wedding.

Somehow, his thoughts drifted to Wang Chuan and the Princess of Yu.

The poem used the cutting of an axe handle as a metaphor—a man seeking a wife is like an axe seeking the right handle: there is a proper method, a sequence, and the help of a matchmaker and wedding ceremony are essential. The man’s pride and joy, his excitement, all poured into this song of self-satisfaction.

He thought of how Wang Chuan never failed in anything he set out to do.

Only when he was absolutely sure of success did he act.

Yet for Yang Hao, business was never so certain; sometimes a chance, missed, was lost forever—or someone like Wang Chuan seized it first.

All he could do was take one step at a time.

“Master, there is a visitor.”

At that moment, his trusted servant came to report.

Since Wang Chuan’s fame had spread across the land, and his reappearance in Fucheng, Yang Hao had helped him make connections with local gentry and officials, hoping to establish a stronghold.

Visitors came in a constant stream, seeking him or seeking Wang Chuan.

He could handle most matters himself.

Today, he only wished to read quietly, but a report from his attendant meant it was something important.

Yang Hao asked who the visitor was.

...

The Empress returned to the palace safe and sound, and at last, everyone could relax.

The Lord of Yu was overjoyed, his mood much improved.

“Qi’er, what troubles you? What happened? Why do you still seem distracted after your return?” But the Lord of Yu noticed the Empress’s expression was not quite right. If she were not well, he would have gone to Wang Chuan for answers.

If it came to that, he would no longer be so agreeable.

“Your Majesty, it seems you do not like Wang Chuan very much. Why is that?” the Empress asked, puzzled.

“Why mention him again? I know he saved you, and has aided Wei’er as well. I am grateful, and will repay him if needed—I am not ungrateful,” the Lord of Yu said patiently.

“But why don’t you like him?” the Empress pressed. “I find him quite acceptable.”

“Much is only appearance; do not let yourself be beguiled.” The Lord of Yu dismissed the others—fortunately, Xu Wei was not present. “Qi’er, let us leave things with him as they are. If possible, I would rather have nothing more to do with him. I already advised him to leave that day.”

He was helpless.

Without Yang Hao, who could have upheld his dignity at the state banquet?

The prestige of a great nation.

“Your Majesty, if possible, I hope Wei’er can be betrothed to him,” the Empress took a deep breath and spoke earnestly.

The Lord of Yu was stunned, standing up in shock. “Why do this? Why must it be so?”

“Your Majesty, please believe me. I have reasons I cannot speak. For Wei’er, this will be a good outcome,” the Empress replied.

“And have I not always thought of Wei’er’s best interests? All these years, I have never forced you or her to do anything. Sometimes I arranged for her to meet promising young men, but if she showed no interest, I let it go,” the Lord of Yu said helplessly. “But why must it be Wang Chuan? Why are you so set on pairing them?”

Why must it be Wang Chuan? Why has Xu Wei fallen for him?

As her father, how could he not understand his own daughter?

He worried—afraid it would become uncontrollable.

“Your Majesty, I have my reasons,” the Empress said awkwardly.

“Can you not tell even me?” he asked, gazing at her, his heart softening.

The Empress fell silent.

The Lord of Yu felt his heart ache even more.

Qi’er, with me here, who could ever force you? And you are not one to yield. You are so strong—if you compromise, it must be for Wei’er.

But what could there be that I cannot know?

“I hope you understand as well,” he sighed. “Do you know why I dislike Wang Chuan?”

“Why is that?” the Empress asked.

“We have seen so many outstanding young men—not as countless as fish in the river, but still quite a few,” he said.

At their level, most of the young men they met were exceptional.

There were wastrels, yes, but not in overwhelming numbers. Most noble families kept strict discipline, and their heirs were outstanding.

“But I have never met anyone who made me so uneasy!” the Lord of Yu declared.

The Empress would always remember how grave his expression was, as he revealed his heart to her. That man—her husband was afraid of him.

This was true honesty between husband and wife, as it had always been with them—mutual respect and candor.

“Wang Chuan in Fucheng is, in truth, alone, without allies or foundation. Yet I am uneasy. Even though I command a million troops, the state of Yu prospers with years of wealth, and I have many masters at my side—even so, I am uneasy before Wang Chuan!” he said earnestly.

“All under heaven know: this man hibernated in Wei for over ten years, unremarkable. It is said he met a sage and returned from death, achieving martial sainthood!” the Lord of Yu went on. “True, the martial path is divine, but for one man to challenge a nation is folly. Who else in this world is like him? So young, yet his martial prowess is terrifying! To be honest, sometimes I think Wei’er is unworthy of him. If I forced it, I fear she would only be hurt.”

“Furthermore, we have met him a few times and are not unfamiliar. Wang Chuan does not covet fame, beauty, or power—he has no ambitions. But for such a man to come to Fucheng—what am I to think? It is not that he wants nothing, but that his desires are too great for ordinary minds to fathom. There are no true recluses in this world!”

“How could I let Wei’er marry such a man?”

It was wholly unequal!

The dragon does not dwell with the snake.

He could not deceive himself—Wang Chuan was a true dragon. If Xu Wei clung to him, she would only be hurt—wounded time and again.

How could he not care for his daughter? More than anyone on earth, he wished for her happiness.

“I understand all this,” the Empress sighed.

She was no fool; she knew all this as well.

But only Wang Chuan could protect Wei’er.

If that day came, if their fox blood was exposed, only Wang Chuan could shield Xu Wei.

Only he could.

Wang Chuan seldom acted, but when he did, he gave his all and never failed.

He had his pride.

If he could marry Xu Wei, though perhaps he could not promise her lifelong devotion, he could protect her for life.

A person with principles and faith—such a one is worthy of trust.

Not those who fly apart when trouble comes, regardless of wealth and status.

“Perhaps Wang Chuan may one day betray her, but only he can protect Wei’er. It is the best way.” The Empress spoke helplessly. “Your Majesty, Wei’er will grow. We must let go and allow her to face things herself. Wang Chuan and Wei’er share a bond—I do not know how far it will go, or how long it will last. Bonds begin and end, rise and fall; it is fate—it is her destiny!”

“I do not wish for Wei’er to have regrets. If that day comes, Yu and Fucheng will always be her home, her place of peace. Even if we let go, we can still watch over her from afar.”

The Lord of Yu clenched his teeth. “And if I do not agree?”

But there was no one on earth who could care for her more than her mother.

Most of the time, he was busy with affairs of state, and had to find time to be with them.

He looked at his wife’s face—after so many years, still the same, her eyes so gentle, filling him with guilt.

Could he really bear to disappoint her?

“I do not know...” The Empress sighed.

Perhaps she could not stop it. Forgive me, Wei’er.

“So be it!” The Lord of Yu shook his head. “All these years, I have never refused you, and you have hardly ever asked me for anything. So be it—I leave this matter to your judgment.”

“Only, if anyone harms Wei’er, I will never let it rest—no matter who it is!”