Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter Sixty-One: Scheming

In truth, Wang Chuan was not the least bit sleepy; he only returned to his quarters for the sake of appearances. His long robe billowed as he strode through the moonlit night, each step lifting a breeze in his wake. In that moment, it seemed as if all the moonlight in the world had gathered upon him—so much, so resplendent, unattainable by others.

Upon returning to the residence, he heard the muffled sound of fists striking cloth and, soon after, saw Yang Hao standing at the entrance, waiting for him for quite some time. Wang Chuan glanced at his sweat-drenched clothes and suddenly recalled a historical anecdote: “During the reign of Emperor Ling of Han, Guan Ning and Hua Xin were close friends. One day, while they were tending a vegetable garden together, they unearthed a gold nugget. Guan Ning regarded the gold as no different from a stone and continued working, but Hua Xin picked it up to look at it before tossing it aside. They often studied together, always side by side. Once, while reading together, a high official in a sedan chair passed by. Guan Ning kept reading as usual, but Hua Xin couldn’t resist going out to watch. Seeing his friend so easily distracted and coveting officialdom, Guan Ning cut their mat in two and solemnly told Hua Xin: ‘From this day on, we are no longer friends.’”

“Yang Hao, since you are occupied with your own affairs, there’s no need to trouble yourself with anything else.”

As Wang Chuan was about to turn away, Yang Hao hesitated, then spoke: “Your Highness, our paths are simply different.”

“Oh?” Wang Chuan’s curiosity was piqued.

“Hua Xin and Guan Ning—everyone knows: one earned a legacy, the other achieved worldly success,” Yang Hao said. “Guan Ning devoted himself to scholarship, elucidating the Book of Songs, the Book of Documents, discussing rituals and propriety—he was the foremost recluse of his era.”

“But Hua Xin sought official rank, served as Grand Minister, Chancellor, Minister of Works—rose to the pinnacle of power, ennobled as Marquis of Boping.”

“Our paths may differ, but both are righteous. There’s no fault in that.”

“It’s rare for you to see this clearly.” Wang Chuan nodded in agreement. “Then walk your path with unwavering resolve, so long as it is the righteous one.”

Wang Chuan was no longer the man he once had been. But then, neither was Yang Hao. As he watched Wang Chuan return to his room, Yang Hao gazed long at that departing figure, breathing a sigh of relief. “My life has had many crossroads, and I have taken detours and long ways around—but it is enough that I can still walk to the end.”

Before long, the sounds of martial practice echoed once more in the courtyard.

The next morning, Wang Chuan also rose early. He stood ramrod straight at his door, hands clasped behind his back. His robe fluttered lightly as the great sun ascended over a thousand mountains, its rays illuminating him in radiant splendor, as though he were a banished immortal.

Yang Hao always felt that such a man was not of mortal dust and mundane world.

The Lord Yu was already waiting for him. Familiar with the way, Wang Chuan was led into the palace, into the Imperial Garden.

The Lord Yu watched the koi swimming in the pond, lost in thought. “Dragons, pythons, spirits of fish—they leap the Dragon Gate to ascend to Heaven. It has never been an easy feat. Yet some are born extraordinary, true dragons among men.”

“This world is not a place where everything goes as one wishes, where all is fair,” Wang Chuan replied, gazing at the pond. “Where there are true dragons, there will always be those who slay them. And some fish live on in comfort, merely to be admired. Each living thing has its place; there’s no sense in lamenting the heavens ceaselessly.”

“Wang Chuan, I have never liked you. Not now, not before. Do you understand?” Lord Yu said.

“I know. If Wei’er thought the same, I wouldn’t come again.” Wang Chuan sighed. “I will look after her. A gentleman acts within his bounds.”

“You’re always so confident. I don’t like it,” Lord Yu said. “With your cultivation, you alone could challenge a nation. Yet why can’t you let her go?”

“It’s only, Your Majesty, that you always suspect I have ulterior motives. But much in life is just that simple—nothing more.” Wang Chuan sighed again. “I am human, subject to all emotions and desires. If one day I cannot remain by her side, you, as her father, will protect her from harm.”

Lord Yu nodded, saying nothing more. “Wang Chuan, then let me tell you—Jin is coming to take you back. What will you do?”

“Why wouldn’t they? After last night, the world is shaken. All the powers must now re-evaluate you. Jin has already made its move—they may already be on the way.” Lord Yu looked at him. “What will you do?”

“Your Majesty, I await your guidance!” Wang Chuan wished to hear his thoughts.

“My opinion is irrelevant—you already know it.” Lord Yu spoke gravely. “But what do you yourself wish?”

“If I were free, there’d be no need to discuss this with you today.” Wang Chuan answered. “If Wei’er is with me, I will bring her home to Jin. I will let no harm come to her. This is my decision.”

“You are admirable.” Lord Yu smiled, though it carried no other meaning. “You may go.”

“Very well.” Wang Chuan bowed and took his leave.

Elsewhere.

A vast, shadowy subterranean palace stretched into the distance. Above, a massive fissure let down countless beams of starlight. Dozens of enormous bronze pillars, each a hundred yards tall, rose into the void, holding up the sky and anchoring the sea with their might.

Tian Xingzi, dressed in a black-and-white robe of yin and yang, stood silently beneath the stars. His eyes shone as he scanned the heavens.

From the eight directions—Heaven, Lake, Fire, Thunder, Wind, Water, Mountain, Earth—chilling vapors coiled up the pillars.

“So, this is a sacred altar? What a grand design,” Tian Xingzi coughed in excitement, his face turning deathly pale. His hair and beard grew a few strands whiter.

Then, in a flicker, he vanished.

Returning to the Divine Lands, he went straight to Fucheng and soon called upon Wang Chuan once more.

But Wang Chuan was not fond of those who clung too tenaciously—when persistence could change nothing, it became self-deception. Meeting again, he felt a hint of reluctance, but at least Tian Xingzi did not bring up the matter of the Human Emperor.

Wang Chuan doubted the man would ever give up or change his mind.

But the first words out of Tian Xingzi’s mouth were: “The Demon Clan is about to emerge!”

“Have you lost your mind from too much fortune-telling?” Wang Chuan could not help a twinge of sympathy. “Why not just dye your hair back? There are better ways to make a living than this. If there really were gods, they’d be bored stiff. If fate is truly knowable, then it should remain hidden; but some insist on peering into it. And then pay the so-called price.”

It’s not the same as having something stolen from you.

As for the Demons—what did it matter to him? As long as they did not provoke him, Wang Chuan had no interest in meddling.

“To hear the Way in the morning is worth dying by evening.” As Tian Xingzi spoke, a flush of red appeared on his face, but his features had grown visibly older since their last meeting. “To defy the heavens and reverse fate with human strength—what an accomplishment that is.”

Madness.

Wang Chuan did not care to refute him; some people were simply too fanatical. They were already gambling their lives on these pursuits.

“Wang Chuan, a great calamity is coming—the strife of a grand era. You are the Human Emperor, and the Demon Clan is about to appear in our lands!” Tian Xingzi pressed on. “I need your help. While their champion is new and unknown, we can destroy him and seize his fortune.”

“Why does this feel familiar?” Wang Chuan rubbed his brow with a clenched fist. “Leaving aside myself, how can you be sure this person is really the future Demon Emperor, the strongest of their kind?”

“I can stake my life on it!” Tian Xingzi said confidently. “I have never been wrong.”

“Why are you people always so eager to do these things? I see no reason to seek out trouble or kill for no cause,” Wang Chuan said, exasperated.

“But they are the Demon Clan—sworn enemies. They will one day dominate these lands,” Tian Xingzi replied.

Wang Chuan paused, then nodded. “You’re right.”

“Your Highness, this is a prime opportunity,” Tian Xingzi urged, seeing his lack of enthusiasm. “While their champion is yet unformed, and the Demon Clan is unaware and will not send aid, do not forget how they dealt with you before. Miss this chance, and who knows when another will come? When dragons and serpents contend, it will only be harder.”

“Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes. You know how they dealt with me before. Even if, as you say, he is the future Demon Emperor, killing him won’t leave them headless,” Wang Chuan replied, unconvinced.

“It can be done! If you act, there’s no doubt of success,” Tian Xingzi insisted. “I’ve already contacted other masters—we will slay the Demon God together!”

Truly, this man was…

Wang Chuan regarded him, sensing a certain obsession. “I’ll think about it.”

“Your Highness…” At that moment, Yang Hao approached. “There is something I’m not sure I should say.”

“Speak your mind,” Wang Chuan replied indifferently.

“Do you remember the rumors about the Martial Institute’s emergence? It stirred martial artists across the land,” Yang Hao said.

“No need to repeat all that—get to the point. Does it concern the elder here?” Wang Chuan asked.

“I can’t say for sure. What I do know is that the Martial Institute has appeared throughout history—this is well known,” Yang Hao explained. “Everyone knows that this time, it appeared for you; next time, it will be for your mother. But before the princess, what then?”

“That’s so long ago—most people weren’t even born yet. But since it concerns the Martial Institute, many pay attention. I can’t recall clearly, perhaps two or three centuries ago,” Wang Chuan mused.

“No, there was another time after that. If we count backward—Your Highness is the first, the princess is the second, but the third was sixty years ago. Few know this; it took great effort for me to find out,” Yang Hao said, looking at Tian Xingzi. “That time, it was for the elder—wasn’t it?”

“So that’s it.” Wang Chuan struck the table, the realization dawning on him.

Tian Xingzi was universally recognized as a genius, beyond dispute.

Typically, that word was reserved for the young, indicating future greatness. And indeed, in his youth, he had shown unmatched talent—worthy of the Martial Institute’s interest.

“So you never entered the Martial Institute—what did they want from you?” Wang Chuan asked curiously.

Tian Xingzi was known for roaming the world.

But the Martial Institute’s disciples rarely showed themselves. Their cultivation was famously secluded; Wang Chuan’s own knowledge confirmed it.

“You never went either—why do you think that is?” Tian Xingzi smiled. “By then, I was already old enough. The Martial Institute no doubt told Your Highness that had you been born ten years earlier, or even sooner, they would have taken you.”

“Your Highness is only twenty, but the princess entered at twenty-two. And elder, you were fifteen at the time,” Yang Hao added, “so it’s not about age. Did the Martial Institute simply have nothing more to teach you?”

“To have such a man at your side, Your Highness is truly the master of the future,” Tian Xingzi remarked, slightly surprised.

A thousand-mile steed indeed.

Wang Chuan rose and slowly walked through the courtyard to the ornamental rock by the pond. The still water reflected his tall figure, while the willow branches idly swayed, sending ripples across the surface.

“What you have said, elder, I will consider carefully. If there is nothing else, I need to rest,” Wang Chuan said.

“Your Highness, some people are fated to be bound to you,” Tian Xingzi replied. “If you focus solely on the Great Way, what will you do about those destined to hinder your path?”

“We’ll see, then.” Wang Chuan flicked a stone, sending a spray of water into the air.

“Wang Chuan, it’s like a tiger cub newly born—still weak. This is the best time to eliminate it,” Tian Xingzi urged him. “If it grows, it will surely bring harm to others and itself!”