Qing, gone from the capital for over a decade, became a star among the elite, her high cultivation adding mystery. But she stayed hidden in Ren's mansion, rarely seen except at public events.
In Ren's mansion, in a quiet courtyard, a stunning young woman stood by a pond, gazing at the rain and flickering fish. Her eyes were clear as the moon. Dressed in white, she seemed like a goddess, her skirt swaying to reveal a glimpse of perfect legs, whiter than carved jade.
Qing frowned slightly, her delicate face soft yet striking, her cool gaze distant, her dark hair tied with a white ribbon, radiating natural grace. Her full chest rose and fell, hinting at inner worries.
Qing didn't care for worldly matters or her father's ambitions. Her heart was set on the path to immortality, the mysteries of the heavens.
"The Mysterious Heaven Scripture," she murmured, recalling her master's words. "Its creator was a genius, once a storm in the world. Its teachings, though unusual, point to the true path…"
The scripture was a gift from Ming when she joined the Xian Sect. She remembered his bold words and the hesitant look of an old attendant. "He was never my equal. My heirs using his techniques is an honor to him."
Even her sect elders praised the scripture's creator but sighed with unspoken concerns. Qing had returned to ask Ming about it, but he was either unconscious or too weak to answer.
"Sister!" A bell-like voice broke her thoughts.
Qing's calm softened into fond annoyance. She turned to see a petite figure bounding into the pavilion.
"Careful, little princess!" came a pleading voice from an old maid.
Li, Ren's youngest daughter, was unlike Qing's serene moonlight. Petite yet curvy, her chest budding like spring lotuses, her waist slim, her face bright as summer dawn, with peach-blossom brows, rosy cheeks, and cherry lips. Her bright eyes sparkled, pure and shy.
Li threw herself into Qing's arms, nuzzling her chest, making Qing giggle. Her neck and a hint of cleavage peeked out, a quick glimpse of spring unseen except by the maids.
After some playful tussling, Qing smoothed their skirts and asked, "Li, no lessons today? Why're you here?"
Li's smile faded at the mention of lessons. Her clever eyes twinkled mischievously. "Forget that, sister! Feng is here!"
Feng Wei? Qing's gaze wavered, picturing the stubborn, determined young alchemist. In her months of training, she'd met him several times; fighting off five foes at the Tomb of the Scattered Immortal, or sweeping through thousands of demons in Sky Rift Valley like a peerless warrior.
But her deepest memory was at Lunar Tower, under the moon, when Feng said, "Immortality isn't freedom, gods aren't carefree. I'd rather go home and shovel manure."
Free-spirited, loyal, principled yet easygoing, acting heroic without claiming to be a hero; that was Qing's impression of Feng.
"What's he doing here?" Qing asked casually, though her moon-like eyes rippled.
Li perked up. "Feng's great at alchemy, even with the lost… uh, Innate Origin Pill?"
"Innate Origin Pill," Qing corrected.
"Right! Father asked him to refine one to heal Marshal Jun's old wound. If Jun supports Father, it'll help him… you know, with his plans."
At sixteen, Li was smart but naive about politics, spoiled by Ren. In another household, she'd likely be a mother by now. But the capital was a storm of schemes, with factions clashing, save for Qing and Li, who could still laugh and play.
Marshal Jun, a founding hero, held sway among the nobles. If he backed Ren, Ren's path to the throne would be nearly certain, barring a final order from Ming.
*Feng, I owe you one,* Qing thought, sighing inwardly.
Suddenly, her heart stirred. The barrier to her next cultivation stage loosened; a breakthrough.
"A chance!" Qing's aura turned icy, her presence like a lofty moon, her eyes sharp and commanding.
"Sister!" Li said, worried.
"It's fine. My moment has come," Qing replied, her voice cool as moonlight. The maids knelt, awed by her glow.
"In the palace!" Qing stepped forward, and with a ripple in the pond, she vanished.
"Who dares trespass!" thundered voices in the palace, charged with magic, alert in these tense times.
"Princess Qing of Bright Hua!" Qing's voice rang out, her moon-like aura shining, showing Ming's personal token. The palace's heavy energies paused, sensing the dragon aura in her token, then faded.
In Yong Row, the outer servants lay dead, blood pooling, bodies strewn messily. Guards surrounded a rotting shack, hesitant. The stench was awful, like decades of waste and filth.
Kai walked past blood-stained walls, checking every corpse. At the shack, he saw the guards' reluctance. "Why aren't you killing?"
"Lord Kai, it's… too nasty," a guard replied.
Kai approached, and the stench hit him, making him vomit. Guards pulled him back. After retching, he pointed at a guard. "You, drag him out. I want to see him die."
The guard, grimacing, stuffed cloth in his nose and entered. Tears streamed from the overpowering stink. He spotted Elder Mu, trembling on a filthy bed, worse than any beggar. Ignoring the urge to vomit, he grabbed him, noticing a massive, softened organ in his torn pants, bigger than most men's.
*Damn, good thing he's a eunuch,* the guard thought, jealous yet relieved by the empty space where balls should be. He dragged Elder Mu out.
The stench overwhelmed the group, some gagging, Kai vomiting again until he was dizzy. Barely glancing at Elder Mu, he waved. "Kill him!"
As the guard raised his blade, a clear voice rang out. "Stop!"
A force knocked the blade away. A woman in white appeared, her dress pure, her figure graceful, her chest subtly curved, her legs like jade in the breeze. Qing frowned at the carnage, her expression like clouds hiding the moon, both stern and lovely.
Even the guard hesitated, awed by her beauty.
"Princess Qing!" Kai recovered first. As Ming's favored granddaughter and Ren's daughter, recently visiting the palace, he knew her well. He bowed, not questioning her interference or explaining the slaughter, only stating, "This is His Majesty's order. You cannot interfere. Let me finish this, and I'll answer for it later."
But Qing didn't look at him. Her gaze pierced the palace, filled with sorrow.
*Dong! Dong! Dong!*
Nine heavy bell tolls echoed, mixed with cries and wails. The palace's timekeeper struck the bell nine times.
In Bright Hua, one toll marked time, two summoned the emperor, three called court, four announced seasons, five marked ceremonies, six mourned an empress, seven signaled war, eight warned of calamity.
Nine meant the emperor's death.
Ming, Bright Hua's founding emperor, the triumphant time-traveler, was gone.
Kai collapsed, pale and lifeless.