Faced with a Xiantian master, the surviving assassins scattered and fled.
When Houtian masters wanted to leave, ordinary imperial guards could not stop them.
Aside from a few unlucky ones who were killed on the spot after being tied down by the emperor's secret guards, the rest vanished beyond the hall in a few leaps.
The emperor's face turned livid, and he issued three verbal decrees in succession.
The imperial guards were to seal off the imperial city, the commandant of the nine gates was to close the city gates, and the entire city was to be searched for the assassins.
Then he turned to Chen Du.
For the first time, the emperor, who had sat upon the throne for over thirty years, regarded the son he had neglected for four years as though he were a treasure.
"Seventh, well done." The emperor clapped his hands and smiled. "A Xiantian master among my sons—this is a glorious occasion without precedent since the founding of Great Sheng!"
"I confer upon you the title of Prince An'guo. Your mother shall be promoted to Consort Xian and moved to Fengyi Palace!"
"You shall also receive ten thousand taels of gold, a residence, and a ceremonial retinue equal to the crown prince's."
The courtiers fell to their knees, their congratulations rising like a tide.
The expressions on several princes' faces, however, were a sight to behold. Prince of Qi Su Yuanli wore a face as dark as still water. A princely title and a retinue equal to the crown prince's—this favor had already surpassed that shown to all the other princes.
Prince of Yan Su Yuancheng clenched his fists without a word. The military authority he had earned through ten grueling years guarding the Northern Border was lighter than a feather before the word "Xiantian."
They all knew that from this day forward, there was no longer any suspense in the struggle for the throne.
A Xiantian master was enough to sweep everything aside.
Chen Du stepped forward and knelt below the imperial steps.
"Father," he said calmly, "I dare not accept."
An uproar erupted throughout the hall.
"For four years, your son has had only books for company and gained some modest insight into martial arts. Today, I was fortunate enough to break through, entirely thanks to your protection and the blessings of our ancestors." He raised his head. "But my ambitions lie neither at court nor in rank and riches. I only wish to continue studying martial arts, to open an unprecedented path of Martial Dao for Great Sheng and for you, Father."
The emperor was silent for a moment. As he looked at this son kneeling below the steps, the surprise in his eyes gave way to approval.
A Xiantian master who sought neither power nor profit, only the Martial Dao—this was a blessing for Great Sheng, and for the other princes as well.
"Granted."
Unconcealed satisfaction colored the emperor's voice. "Qianchuan Hall remains yours. I will also establish a training ground for you outside the palace. I will take good care of your mother for you. As for everything else, you need not concern yourself."
Chen Du kowtowed. "Thank you, Father."
The day after he refused the rewards, visitors nearly wore down the threshold of Qianchuan Hall.
First came lavish gifts sent by Consort De, the sixth prince's birth mother.
The eighth prince paid a visit in person.
Even Prince of Qi Su Yuanli sent his chief clerk with a piece of thousand-year-old dark iron from Yandang Mountain, saying it was for forging a weapon suited to the seventh prince's hand.
Prince of Yan Su Yuancheng sent no gift, but he did send a letter from the Northern Border, couched in exceedingly courteous terms.
It said, in essence, that the soldiers of the Northern Border were all heartened to hear of his seventh brother's breakthrough to Xiantian, and hoped he would visit the Northern Border when he had time.
Chen Du turned them down one by one, using the same words each time: "I am devoted to studying martial arts and have no mind for other matters. I appreciate my brothers' kindness."
The crown prince, Su Yuanzhang, also sent someone with a case of books. They were all one-of-a-kind martial arts texts not found in Qianchuan Hall, accompanied by a short letter in neat handwriting: "My worthy brother, you love martial arts. These may be of use."
Chen Du accepted them.
He had made his position sufficiently clear: he would take no sides, form no alliances, and take no part in any struggle for the throne.
All he wanted was the Martial Dao.
After testing him a few times, the princes gradually came to believe him.
After all, a Xiantian master's thoughts were bound to differ from those of ordinary people. If he truly wanted the throne, he would have fought for it long ago. Why would he stay in Qianchuan Hall, buried in piles of old books?
But one thing continued to weigh on Chen Du's mind.
The assassination attempt at the Hundred Nations Assembly had involved several Houtian masters, each with a clear role and impeccable timing. They had nearly wiped out the emperor and all the princes in one stroke.
Yet from beginning to end, the legendary Xiantian master said to be guarding the imperial palace had not so much as shown his shadow.
Was there no such person at all, or had he deliberately chosen not to intervene?
What concerned Chen Du even more was how calm the emperor had been throughout the assassination attempt.
The face behind the twelve strands of his crown had remained steady as a rock from the moment the assassins struck to Chen Du's breakthrough to Xiantian. Not even an eyebrow had moved.
That was not the composure of a man unafraid in the face of danger, but the certainty of someone who had known all along that someone would strike.
Chen Du did not grow complacent over becoming a Xiantian master. He knew full well that his Early Innate Realm cultivation might not amount to much before that royal Xiantian master who had never shown himself.
And the emperor's quiet certainty gave him an even stronger, if indistinct, sense that the imperial palace must conceal trump cards he had yet to uncover.
He thought no more about it and continued cultivating.
Peace returned to Qianchuan Hall.
The princes no longer came to disturb him, the courtiers dared not disturb him, and even the patrolling personal guards had orders to tread lightly when passing Qianchuan Hall.
As though by common agreement, the entire imperial palace treated the dilapidated library hall as a forbidden place no one could approach.
Springs passed and autumns came, and the scholar tree withered and flourished three more times.
During those three years, Chen Du did not take a single step outside Qianchuan Hall.
With his Xiantian cultivation, he reexamined every martial arts manual in Qianchuan Hall. What he had not understood before, he understood now; what he had thought he understood, he now found he had grasped only superficially.
He tempered the Wisdom King Vajra Art again and again, each cycle smoother and purer than the last.
His Martial Arts Creation level did not rise, but the experience he accumulated through practice in the Innate Realm was more valuable than any increase in level.
Over three years, he broke through from the Early Innate Realm to the Middle Stage, then the Late Stage, and finally the Peak Stage.
On this day, the winds and clouds above Qianchuan Hall suddenly changed.
The flags on every pole in the imperial palace drooped at the same instant. Immediately afterward, the treetops began to sway without a breeze, and ripples spread across the pond in the imperial garden, growing faster and faster until they formed fine waves that slapped against the stone bank.
In the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the assembled officials attending the morning court suddenly fell silent as one.
An indescribable pressure bore down on everyone from above, as though an invisible mountain hung in the air, ready to fall at any moment!
Then a beam of golden light, not dazzling but vast beyond measure, shot up from the direction of Qianchuan Hall and pierced straight into the clouds.
The light spread across the sky in layer upon layer, faintly tracing the outline of the Immovable Wisdom King. Three heads and six arms, a vajra held high, a lotus throne turning—the manifestation was solemn and majestic.
Chen Du had not deliberately released this manifestation. His Xiantian Peak Stage cultivation was simply too vast, and it spilled out naturally.
It enveloped all of Qianchuan Hall, then continued spreading in every direction until it covered the entire imperial palace.
Everyone felt a vast, ocean-like pressure descend from the sky!
Everyone felt an instinctive sense... that an immensely powerful being could decide the life or death of everyone present with a single thought.
The emperor, who was reviewing memorials in the imperial study during the morning court, also raised his head and looked toward Qianchuan Hall. A faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, as though he were looking forward to something.
In the courtyard of Qianchuan Hall, Chen Du slowly opened his eyes.
His eyes were clear as water, with no golden light or other strange signs.
Upon reaching the Xiantian Peak Stage, Chen Du had gained another powerful ability: he had unlocked Spiritual Power.
Under the reach of his Spiritual Power, every blade of grass, every tree, every brick and tile revealed its texture with unprecedented clarity.
He could even sense the paths of ants crawling beneath the walls, and the heartbeat of every person in the imperial palace within his range.