Suppressing the Imperial Preceptor with a Single Thought
The young emperor took a walk in the Divine Prison.
He walked slowly from the first floor to the eighth floor, his gaze sweeping over every cell and every iron bar.
The Cang Xuan behind him walked with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent, but his deep eyes were always scrutinizing the array patterns and stone walls around him.
The young emperor couldn't find Zhao Heng; among the imprisoned prisoners, not a single face matched the one he was looking for.
He also failed to find that legendary "backer".
The people of the Divine Prison Bureau were respectful and courteous, the guards at each level followed the rules and regulations, and the patrolling jailers bowed their heads in salute; everything seemed perfectly normal.
He felt somewhat irritated, but he didn't show it on his face.
He decided to rest for a while and discuss the next steps with the Grand Preceptor in a secret room.
The secret room was small, containing a stone table and two stone chairs.
The young emperor sat at the head of the table, while Cang Xuan sat opposite him.
The Imperial Guards stood watch outside the gate, while the officers of the Divine Prison Bureau retreated to the end of the corridor.
The young emperor picked up his teacup, took a sip, and frowned, asking, "Grand Preceptor, what do you think?"
Cang Xuan closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly said, "There is indeed something strange about this place. I can sense an extremely deep aura in the deepest part, but that aura is hidden too well, and I cannot pinpoint its location for the time being. Your Majesty, there is no need to rush. Let me investigate carefully—"
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly opened his eyes.
The stone wall of the secret chamber cracked silently, without a sound or vibration; the stone wall was like a door that had been pushed open, sliding from the middle to both sides.
Behind the stone wall was a dark corridor. From the depths of the corridor, two figures slowly emerged, the one in the lead being a hunched old jailer.
Behind him followed a young man, dressed in a jailer's gray robe, with a thin face and his head bowed.
The young emperor's gaze fell on the young man's face, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
He recognized the face— Zhao Heng, the son of Regent Zhao Zheng!
The young emperor suddenly stood up, and the teacup fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.
He pointed at the old jailer, his voice trembling. "You... who are you! How dare you rescue and protect the son of a disgraced official!"
The young emperor stepped back, standing behind Cang Xuan, his confidence instantly boosted, "Imperial Preceptor!"
Cang Xuan had already stood up. He looked at the old jailer, his brows furrowed slightly.
It's abnormal that an old man at the Sixth Realm could walk out of the secret door of the secret chamber and stand before the emperor without fear.
Cang Xuan did not act immediately, but said in a deep voice, "Your Majesty, this person is strange."
Chen Du stopped in front of the stone table. He glanced at the young emperor, then at Cang Xuan, his expression calm. "Regent, what crime have you committed? The son of the Regent, how can you be called the son of a criminal?"
The young emperor was momentarily speechless at these words, then laughed in fury, "What crime has he committed? He plotted rebellion! He secretly amassed troops! He intended to usurp the throne! I have already shown him the greatest mercy by sparing his body! His son is naturally the son of a traitor!"
Chen Du looked at him and slowly shook his head. "You say he committed treason, where's the evidence?"
The young emperor opened his mouth, but was momentarily speechless.
He has no evidence.
Those charges were fabricated.
Those rumors were also spread by him.
He gritted his teeth, ceasing his pursuit, and turned to Cang Xuan: "Imperial Preceptor, this man is incredibly audacious. I humbly request your intervention."
Cang Xuan nodded, took a step forward, and suddenly released his aura. The pressure of Peak Stage Tenth Realm cultivator surged like a surging ocean, and the air in the entire secret chamber instantly froze.
The teapot and teacups on the stone table shattered together, and the fragments were pressed into the tabletop.
The imperial guards outside the door were so overwhelmed by the aura that they staggered backward, even finding it difficult to breathe.
Cang Xuan looked at the old jailer, waiting for him to kneel down.
But Chen Du didn't kneel; he didn't even move.
He simply stood there, his back hunched, his cloudy old eyes quietly watching Cang Xuan.
His gaze was as calm as a stagnant pool. When Cang Xuan's pressure fell on him, it was like falling into a bottomless abyss, without even causing a ripple.
Cang Xuan's pupils shrank sharply. He subconsciously activated more of his power of laws, unleashing his Peak Stage cultivation at the Tenth Realm without reservation.
But the old jailer remained motionless.
Then, he saw the old jailer's lips twitch slightly.
Chen Du slowly straightened up. His gray hair gradually turned black from the tips to the roots, the wrinkles on his face receded like a tide, and his thin limbs stretched out in the blink of an eye.
The elderly jailer disappeared, and standing in the same spot was a young man with delicate features and fair skin.
He wore a faded old robe with a pipe tucked into his waistband. His aura remained restrained, yet that restraint itself was like a volcano suppressed at the bottom of an abyss.
Cang Xuan's face turned deathly pale.
He opened his mouth, and a hoarse syllable escaped his throat. "Ten... Eleventh Realm..."
The young emperor stood behind him, frozen in place, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
When the young emperor heard Cang Xuan say "Eleventh Realm," his mind went blank, and he felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of ice water from head to toe.
The Eleventh Realm! A realm that only the founding emperor of the nation has ever set foot in, according to legend.
During his father's reign, the entire court had no more than Tenth Realm experts, and they couldn't even find a single peak Tenth Realm Peak Stage to help them.
He went to great lengths to invite Cang Xuan, believing that this was the strongest trump card in the world.
But now, Cang Xuan stood before him, his lips pale, his fingers trembling slightly, and his eyes filled with undisguised fear as he looked at the old jailer.
"How is this possible!" the young emperor screamed inwardly.
If this person truly was at the Eleventh Realm, then why did Zhao Zheng commit suicide?
He clearly has such a strong backer; he could clearly rebel.
He could have easily crippled himself, so why did he choose death instead?
He couldn't understand it.
He racked his brains but still couldn't figure it out.
Cang Xuan couldn't figure it out either, but he didn't have time to think about it anymore.
Chen Du glanced at Cang Xuan, just once.
Cang Xuan suddenly felt everything go black. The entire secret chamber vanished, the entire Divine Prison vanished, and all things in heaven and earth vanished.
He stood in a boundless void, with no ground beneath his feet and no sky above him.
Before him stood a figure so enormous it defied description.
The figure was enveloped in a dark golden light, its face blurred, but its eyes were terrifyingly clear, cold, and calm, like the Heavenly Dao looking down upon ants.
Standing before this figure, Cang Xuan felt like a mayfly, gazing up at the heavens.
That feeling of insignificance seeped into his very bones, making him forget even to breathe.
With a loud bang, the figure raised a hand and gently pressed down.
Cang Xuan felt as if he had been struck by an invisible mountain, his consciousness utterly crushed in that instant.
When he opened his eyes again, he was already on the thirteenth level of the Divine Prison.
The stone walls were dark, with a faint phosphorescent glow, and the air was filled with a dense, almost tangible, suppressive force.
He tried to activate his internal True Essence, but True Essence seemed to be suppressed by something, and he couldn't mobilize even a trace of it.
He tried to struggle and get up, but his limbs felt like lead, and he could barely lift a finger.
He lay prostrate on the ground, trembling all over, and finally couldn't help but scream, "Senior! What wrong have I done? Why have I been cast into the deepest part of the Divine Prison!"
No one answered, but a cold voice fell into his ear.
It sounded as if it came from a great distance, or as if it were right next to the back of his head, saying, "The deepest part of the Divine Prison? You are not worthy. This is only the thirteenth of the eighteen levels."
Cang Xuan's pupils shrank suddenly. The thirteenth level, the thirteenth level out of the eighteen levels.
He, a peerless expert at the Peak Stage of the Tenth Realm, who was only half a step away from stepping into the Eleventh Realm, was only fit to be imprisoned on the thirteenth floor.
He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word for a long time.
He secluded himself for decades, and upon emerging, he considered himself invincible.
He had heard of the Divine Prison and knew it was the oldest prison in the Heavenly Dragon Divine Dynasty, but he had never taken it seriously.
He thought the prisoners were nothing more than washed-up villains and forgotten strongmen.