The Saint of Fate narrowed her eyes and waved her hand. In an instant, the starry river of sky and water before her returned to perfect stillness.
She walked slowly to the edge of the Pillar of Silence, leaned on the railing, and gazed down upon the entirety of Huangtian City.
Within Huangtian City, no other structure dared rise higher than the central Purple Extremity Hall, that was the dignity of imperial authority.
Yet this tower alone stood above the Purple Extremity Hall. It was the tallest building in all of Great Wei, overlooking all living beings in the truest sense.
This was reverence for the Mandate of Heaven.
The Great Wei court and the Immortal Sects had always complemented and restrained one another, maintaining a delicate balance.
Even that Saint of the Ages from Yaoshan, when his disciples completed their studies, most of them would still enter the imperial court to serve Great Wei.
But only the Saint of Fate, Xu Fu, held a position that faintly surpassed imperial power as the head of the Heavenly Mandate Dao.
Even the reigning Emperor Yong'an called himself her nominal disciple, performing the rites of a student whenever they met.
This brings up the unique nature of the Heavenly Mandate Dao.
The so-called Heavenly Mandate Dao was an ancient, secretive sect of immense mystery. Its disciples were few, sometimes disappearing from the world for centuries.
But legends of its teachings had never ceased, for the sect itself was extraordinary to the point of absurdity.
The disciples of the Heavenly Mandate Dao cultivated by finding their own "Heavenly Mandate", and then fulfilling it.
Such mandates varied in scale.
Some disciples were destined to live as ordinary people, lives of rice and salt, living quietly, dying quietly.
Others, however, bore utterly outlandish destinies.
One might have to scoop dry an entire river using a single spoon. Another might be fated to overturn a nation without drawing a single blade.
No matter how absurd the destiny, the disciples of the Heavenly Mandate Dao would devote their entire lives to realizing it, until death.
And Xu Fu's Heavenly Mandate was none other than "Peace under Heaven."
That meant she was destined, for her entire life, to shoulder the mission of bringing peace to all under heaven.
As long as that destiny remained, and she chose to stand with Great Wei, then Great Wei would forever hold the position of rightful legitimacy.
All those of wisdom and talent, without need for recruitment, would naturally dedicate themselves to the Great Wei court.
The hearts of the people would follow!
Even the Saints of Confucianism could not achieve such power, yet Xu Fu could bring it about merely by sitting atop this tower, without moving an inch.
That was why even Emperor Yong'an was willing to revere Xu Fu as the National Preceptor and call himself her disciple.
In truth, he was simply showing the world his stance, proclaiming himself a wise ruler who supported "Peace under Heaven."
Besides, Xu Fu's cultivation was formidable. She commanded the Divine Art of Fate and could be a great pillar of support for Great Wei.
In such a situation where everyone benefited, why would anyone refuse?
Xu Fu's gaze swept across Huangtian City, bathed in morning light, finally settling on the Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion.
The morning wind stirred her Daoist robes and black hair, making her seem like an immortal clothed in feathers, untouched by dust, nourished by wind and dew.
She did not need to look to know that the Prince's Mansion must now be in chaos.
After all, it concerned the bloodline of the Northern Garrison Prince. The Art of Causality and Fate on the true heir's body was one she had personally examined, and through tracing it, she discovered that the one who had originally cast that Art of Causality and Fate was none other than the Demon Sect's "Sixth Division Star Lord."
The so-called Demon Sect was actually named the "Tenfold Dao."
Its followers worshiped ten "Dao Lords", Life, Death, Craft, Righteousness, Annihilation, Revelation, Passion, Causality, Constancy, and Measure. Their doctrines were twisted and deranged, their deeds perverse and inhuman, and thus the world called them the Demon Sect.
The whereabouts of these ten Dao Lords were ever elusive, and they had long been a thorn in Great Wei's heart.
The Sixth Division Star Lord was the Dao Lord of Causality.
What he mastered, naturally, was the Art of Causality and Fate. And by coincidence, or irony, this Dao Lord of Causality had once been a disciple of the Heavenly Mandate Dao centuries ago.
By lineage, he was Xu Fu's senior.
Yet his Heavenly Mandate was clearly not of the righteous path, hence he became a Dao Lord of the Demon Sect.
If not for that old senior from the Heavenly Mandate Dao interfering with Xu Fu's calculations through the Art of Causality and Fate, she would have long ago located the Demon Sect's Dao Lords and destroyed them one by one.
As it stood, both had been taught by the same master, she could not break his technique.
For years, Xu Fu had searched for flaws in the Sixth Division Star Lord's workings, hoping to pinpoint the Dao Lords' whereabouts.
Now, discovering that the Art of Causality and Fate on the true heir's body was the handiwork of the Sixth Division Star Lord, how could Xu Fu not care?
The emperor had ordered her to personally assist in the investigation, mainly to capture the hidden members of the Demon Sect behind it.
Otherwise, once the Art of Causality and Fate was dispelled, the Blood-Robe Guards could simply interrogate the suspects.
Why trouble the National Preceptor?
She had originally planned to go to the Prince's Mansion herself.
But who could have expected that, at this very moment, some brazen little thief would steal Great Wei's national fortune!
Between the Demon Sect and the national fate, the national fate was, of course, far more important.
The Great Wei dynasty had endured for over thirteen hundred years; its flourishing fortune was the key to its unbroken prosperity.
Only with abundant and robust national fortune could the dragon veins of Great Wei remain steady, ensuring favorable winds and rains across twenty-eight provinces and peace for all people.
Even the loss of a single thread of it was intolerable.
For it also meant, someone dared, within Great Wei's borders, to bewitch the people and crown themselves emperor!
The network of national fate was complex beyond measure. Xu Fu had spent a full day and night calculating.
Yet, strangely, in past cases where anyone attempted to steal the national fate, signs always appeared beforehand, no need for her to divine it personally.
This was usurping the throne; it was never something done lightly.
"Fortune" and "vital energy" were one and the same.
National fortune was the collective energy of a nation's people.
To steal it, one must first gain the people's recognition.
Before such a theft could occur, there would always be uprisings, unrest, or at least rumors spreading through the land.
Xu Fu's initial search parameters should have made narrowing down the source much simpler.
Yet now, the realm was at peace, and still the national fortune had been stolen.
It was utterly inconceivable.
She had thought it might be some hermit in the mountains deceiving a few ignorant villagers into believing him their emperor.
But unexpectedly, the fortune had vanished into thin air, and reappeared over the Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion.
The Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion...
"To circle all the way back here, this is precisely the last place such a thing should occur."
Xu Fu brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her long eyes were cold as polished jade; her transcendent features shone in the morning light, haloed in divinity.
Gu Yuye, the Northern Garrison Prince, everyone said he wielded immense power, surrounded by allies, yet despite commanding the armies for years, he had never incurred the emperor's suspicion.
There were two reasons for this.
First, he was genuinely cautious and respectful.
Though granted the extraordinary privileges of a non-imperial prince, being saluted without name, entering court with sword and shoes, he had never once exercised them.
Moreover, with imperial permission, the Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion was not placed in his fief but right within Huangtian City, where his wife and children all resided.
Gu Yuye was constantly campaigning in the northern borderlands and rarely returned.
Everyone within the mansion was, in effect, a hostage left to the emperor.
With such an attitude, who could doubt his loyalty?
For that reason alone, the Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion could not possibly be the source of the national fortune.
Even if Gu Yuye's loyalty were an act, stealing the empire's fate right under the emperor's nose would be courting death.
And since he had performed this act of loyalty for so many years, why would he suddenly destroy it overnight?
If anything, he would plot in secret and move slowly.
But recalling the second reason, Xu Fu found the matter even more curious.
That second reason was his son, the heir, Gu Fangchen.
Gu Fangchen could not cultivate; his temperament was vile, his deeds wicked, his arrogance brainless, everyone knew it.
The heir of the Northern Garrison Prince was nothing but useless mud.
That was perhaps the only stain on Gu Yuye's otherwise perfect record.
But was it not also his life-saving grace?
With an heir like that, his family line was already doomed. His legacy would end before passing on, pitiful, yet convenient.
Perhaps that was why the emperor tolerated him for so long.
But just yesterday, during court, the Northern Garrison Prince had unexpectedly discovered that the newly crowned top scholar shared his bloodline.
Martial cultivators who refine their bodies to the utmost can sense every drop of their own blood; any offspring carrying that bloodline is connected to them.
The emperor's face had darkened immediately.
Yet Gu Yuye remained calm, kneeling to request a public verification.
As for the result, Zhang Yuandao had changed his name to Gu Yuandao, and by now all of Huangtian City must have heard it.
Gu Yuandao and Gu Fangchen, those two were worlds apart.
The latter, as heir, would only ruin the family.
But the former...
To the emperor, the Northern Garrison Prince had just become a threat.
For now, old friendship might stay his hand, but balance would not last. Gu Yuandao, the top scholar and disciple of a saint, was bound to take office.
The better he performed, the less sentiment the emperor would feel.
"If I were Gu Yuye, in such a situation, I would stay low and even request punishment."
Xu Fu tapped the railing with her finger.
"For the national fortune to appear in the Northern Garrison Prince's Mansion now, either Gu Yuye has gone mad, or someone wants me to look there on purpose."
Such a cautious man would never suddenly lose his mind.
Therefore, the sudden theft and disappearance of the national fortune must have been deliberate.
"Heh."
Xu Fu narrowed her eyes and stared down at the Prince's Mansion.
"In that case, let me see who dares this, and for what purpose."
More importantly, this anomaly was almost certainly connected to the Sixth Division Star Lord.
If that were true, the situation was grave indeed.
To manipulate national fate at will meant the Sixth Division Star Lord might have ascended to First Rank.
If so, the world faced a great calamity...
Xu Fu's face grew solemn. She closed her eyes.
...
Inside the Prince's Mansion, a maid standing quietly in a corner suddenly froze mid-motion. Her eyes changed completely.
She looked toward the hall's center.
The members of the Gu family were in confrontation. At the center stood Gu Fangchen and her disciple, Gu Youren.
Ning Caiyong stood before Gu Fangchen, facing Gu Yuye.
"I already told you, when Chen'er met that coachman, I knew about it. I've always known he wasn't my child."
"It was at my instruction that they met. He could not have had contact with the Demon Sect!"
Though she tried to sound stern, her gentle features lacked all authority.
Gu Lianqian, sensing her mother's unconditional defense of Gu Fangchen yet again, shot the latter a glare and demanded,
"Mother, you said you knew. Then tell us, when exactly did Gu Fangchen meet that coachman?"
"That coachman has already been arrested by the Blood-Robe Guards. Once interrogated, we'll know immediately whether you're telling the truth."
She preemptively pointed at Gu Fangchen.
"You're not allowed to speak!"
Gu Fangchen looked helplessly at Ning Caiyong and sighed inwardly.
"This..."
Ning Caiyong bit her lip and forced herself to answer,
"Three years ago, I can't remember clearly, perhaps during the Chou hour."
Gu Lianqian looked to Gu Yuye. The latter, seated in the main chair, clapped his hands. At once, soldiers entered and knelt for orders.
Gu Yuye said, "Is the coachman's confession on record?"
The soldier nodded. "It is."
Gu Yuye turned to Ning Caiyong.
"Then bring it here. Let the Princess Consort have a look."
At his tone, Ning Caiyong immediately knew she'd guessed wrong.
Her face went pale. She instinctively looked toward Gu Fangchen.
Gu Fangchen remained calm, speaking solemnly,
"Honestly, if I had colluded with the Demon Sect, how could the Martial Saint have taken me as a disciple?"
"You may doubt me, but you cannot doubt the Martial Saint's judgment."
The little princess laughed coldly.
"Gu Fangchen, if you're frightened, just admit it. How could the Martial Saint possibly take you as a disciple? Stop deceiving yourself."
Becoming the Martial Saint's disciple had been her dream since childhood!
This bastard was trying to disgust her again!
She turned to rally the others to mock him, but noticed everyone else was silent.
She blinked at her father.
"Father?"
Why weren't they speaking? Why did they look as if they'd just swallowed flies?
Gu Fangchen grinned.
"Obviously, because I wasn't lying."
He lifted his chin, crossed his legs, and took a sip of tea, his tone arrogant.
"Verify my identity if you wish, but if you tarnish my master's reputation with such baseless accusations, I won't let it slide!"
Inside, though, he thought, Come on already...
In the adjoining room, Ding Xingfeng sat lazily, drinking tea.
...Fine. He was now officially this kid's backup prop.
The Martial Saint gave a cold smile, lifting his teacup and blowing lightly across the rising steam.
But what the boy had said wasn't wrong. No one had the right to question the character of his disciple.
Ding Xingfeng sucked a tea leaf into his mouth, then spat it out.
The once-soft leaf instantly dried stiff, shot through two walls, shattered the teacup in Gu Fangchen's hand, and embedded itself in the floor between them, drawing everyone's attention.
Gu Fangchen: "..."
Ning Caiyong said evenly, "The Martial Saint himself is next door, drinking tea."
Gu Lianqian's pupils constricted. Her expression froze in disbelief, then collapsed into blank shock.
H-How could that be?!
Why would the Martial Saint refuse her yet take this useless man as his disciple...
Ning Caiyong beckoned a maid to clean up the shards.
As the maid passed by, Gu Fangchen caught a faint, cool fragrance unlike any other. He blinked, then let out a silent sigh of relief.
Ten thousand taels of gold, finally arrived!
Recalling the original Gu Fangchen's lecherous habits, he gave a wicked grin, reached out, and caught the maid's hand.
"I hadn't noticed before, our household had such a lovely maid."
His gaze slid downward, and he said playfully,
"What a pity... so peaceful."