The Terrified Imperial Preceptor, Like a Frog at the Bottom of a Well
But now, lying on the stone floor of the thirteenth level of this prison, feeling the overwhelming suppressive force that made it difficult for him to even breathe, only one thought remained in his mind.
This place was far more terrifying than he had imagined.
He forced his eyes open, trying to see his surroundings.
Not far from the Imperial Advisor sat an old man.
The old man was wearing a tattered old robe that was almost unrecognizable in color, his hair was a mess like a bird's nest, and his face was covered with deep wrinkles; he looked exactly like an old beggar.
The moment Cang Xuan saw that face clearly, he was terrified. He recognized that face.
He had seen a portrait of this face in an ancient book when he was young.
That was a figure who dominated an era thousands of years ago, the number one rogue cultivator in the Southern Wasteland, known as "Qiong Lao".
Legend has it that he single-handedly controlled three thousand miles of the Southern Wasteland, and even a Peak Stage expert of the Tenth Realm could not withstand more than three moves from him.
He disappeared for thousands of years, and everyone thought he was dead.
But he didn't die; he was imprisoned on the thirteenth level of this Divine Prison.
Cang Xuan sensed the aura emanating from the other party. Although the aura was suppressed to a very low level by the power of suppression, the essential sense of oppression still made him tremble from the depths of his soul.
That level of skill completely overwhelmed him.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something.
But the old beggar-like figure didn't even lift his eyelids; he simply turned over and continued sleeping.
Cang Xuan lay on the ground, his whole body shivering with cold.
He suddenly understood.
This Divine Prison is essentially an abyss forgotten by the Heavenly Dragon Divine Dynasty.
Those imprisoned deep inside, if picked out at random, had all stirred up huge waves in the outside world.
He, Cang Xuan, was nothing in front of these people.
Cang Xuan lay on the ground, his whole body shivering with cold.
He thought the thirteenth level was the deepest part of the Divine Prison, but when he managed to extend his Spiritual Power, he realized he was terribly wrong.
The thirteenth floor was filled with a dense, oppressive atmosphere. Every cell was locked with people inside.
Every aura was stronger than his; some were significantly stronger, some were several times stronger, and some even seemed unfathomable to him.
He recognized several of them, including the "Qiong Lao" from the Southern Wasteland, a rogue cultivator who dominated an era three thousand years ago.
The "Sea-Covering Perfected One" of the East Sea is an ancient monster from two thousand years ago.
The "Withered Zen Monk" of the Western Desert is said to have entered Nirvana Realm, and the world believes that he has already passed away.
But they're all here, all on the thirteenth floor.
Like a pack of caged beasts, they lie quietly, yet each one is capable of stirring up a monstrous storm in the outside world.
Cang Xuan's mind went blank, but only now did he realize that so many of the powerful figures who had disappeared into the long river of history, those who were hailed as mythical beings, were actually imprisoned in the Divine Prison.
He struggled to sit up and continued to probe downwards with his Spiritual Power.
On the fourteenth floor, he sensed several presences that made his scalp tingle.
On the fifteenth floor, his Spiritual Power began to tremble.
He sensed it on the sixteenth level; the Eleventh Realm, not just one, but at least three!
The auras of the three Eleventh Realms settled quietly in the sixteenth-level cell.
His mouth was open, and he couldn't close it for a long time.
The Eleventh Realm, a realm that only the founding emperor of the nation is said to have set foot in, is said to house at least three people in the Divine Prison.
And it wasn't just one.
Could it be that it was all suppressed by that senior figure?
Cang Xuan felt a chill run through him. He recalled those eyes from just now—cold, calm, like the Heavenly Dao looking down upon ants.
He lay on the ground, with only one thought in his mind.
My understanding of that person is probably still that of a frog in a well.
"Hey." A hoarse voice came from the side. Cang Xuan turned his head sharply.
The old beggar-like figure rolled over and looked at him lazily. "New here? How did you suddenly get locked up here? I've been here for thousands of years, and this is the first time I've ever seen someone appear out of thin air."
The Qiong Lao's voice was dry and hoarse.
Cang Xuan swallowed hard, his voice trembling, "An old jailer came in from outside, he... he threw me in."
The Qiong Lao frowned. "An old jailer? What old jailer could throw you in here? What's your cultivation level?"
"Peak Stage of the Tenth Realm."
"Just half a step away from reaching the Eleventh Realm."
The Qiong Lao's expression changed.
He slowly sat up, his cloudy old eyes fixed on Cang Xuan.
"What did you say? The old jailer? What does he look like?"
Cang Xuan recounted what had just happened: a hunched old jailer with gray hair, a faded old robe, and a string of copper keys hanging from his waist.
He appeared before the emperor with the regent's son, the imperial advisor intervened, and he was thrown into the thirteenth level of the Divine Prison.
The Qiong Lao grew paler and paler as he listened.
After Cang Xuan finished speaking, he felt as if he had been burned by something, and he shrank back abruptly, all the way to the innermost corner of the cell, his back pressed against the stone wall, his whole body trembling.
"You... you've offended him?" The Qiong Lao's voice changed, hoarse and filled with a deep-seated fear. "Do you even know who he is?"
Cang Xuan opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.
The moment the Qiong Lao finished speaking, Cang Xuan sensed it.
A sense of fear rose simultaneously from every cell on the thirteenth floor.
The Qiong Lao was trembling.
The Sea-Covering Perfected One was trembling.
The Withered Zen Monk was trembling.
All the peerless experts, whether he recognized them or not, were trembling.
That was fear without reservation!
The feeling of fear spread from the thirteenth floor to the fourteenth floor, and then from the fourteenth floor to the fifteenth and sixteenth floors.
Although Cang Xuan's Spiritual Power could not reach the seventeenth level, he could feel that the emotion of fear was getting stronger as he went down.
Upon reaching the sixteenth level, the auras of the three Eleventh Realm cultivators fluctuated noticeably for a moment before quickly receding, becoming as silent as three corpses.
He stood frozen in place, covered in cold sweat.
Just who exactly was that senior figure?
How many years did he spend in this Divine Prison? How many people did he suppress?
Why did he disguise himself as an old prison guard? Cang Xuan lay on the cold ground, countless questions churning in his mind, but he couldn't find the answer to any of them.
He only knew one thing: just now, he had displayed the overwhelming pressure of a Peak Stage Tenth Realm expert against an existence far beyond his imagination. And then, he was thrown into this place.
He was locked up with those people he once looked up to but could never reach.
He couldn't even stay on the thirteenth floor.
Because everyone here is stronger than him.
Cang Xuan lay on the ground, his heart still pounding.
Just then, a cold voice fell on his ear. "Stay here quietly and obediently? I'll let you out in a hundred years."
Cang Xuan was stunned for a moment, then let out a long breath. One hundred years.
That's all the punishment I'm getting.
He secluded himself for decades; a hundred years was but a fleeting moment for him.
Compared to those ancient monsters who have been imprisoned for thousands or tens of thousands of years, what is a hundred years? It's better than losing your life.
He lay on the ground, a sense of relief rising within him.
For a brief moment, he truly thought he was going to die.
Being alive now, and having a definite end date, is already an immense blessing.
He nodded repeatedly, his voice hoarse, "Thank you, senior! Thank you, senior!"
The Qiong Lao beside him watched, and the fear on his face slowly faded, replaced by a complex expression tinged with jealousy.
Released after a hundred years? That kid's really lucky.
Meanwhile, in the secret chamber, the young emperor had collapsed to the ground.
He knelt, his knees hitting the cold stone slabs, the impact stinging, but he didn't care.
He crawled a few steps and kept kowtowing in Chen Du's direction, his forehead hitting the ground with a thud, and blood came out after a few times.
"Senior! Senior, spare me! I... I was wrong! I didn't know it was you! I didn't know the Regent was backed by you! Please, for my youth and ignorance, forgive me this time!"
His voice trembled, tears and snot streamed down his face, a stark contrast to the arrogant emperor he had been moments before. "I'll exonerate the Regent immediately when I get back! I'll build him a mausoleum! I'll bestow upon him a posthumous title! I'll bring his wife and children back! I'll do anything! I only beg you, senior, to spare my life!"
Chen Du looked down at him without saying a word.
The young emperor kowtowed for a while, but seeing no response, he panicked even more and kowtowed harder, his forehead smeared with blood and ash all over his face.
The only sounds in the entire secret room were the muffled thuds of kowtowing and the little emperor's sobs.
After a long while, Chen Du finally spoke, "You must never set foot in the Divine Prison again in this life, or you will die."
The young emperor trembled, then nodded frantically, "I dare not! I will never dare again! I swear I will never set foot in the Divine Prison again! I swear!"
As he spoke, he backed away, and when he reached the doorway, he scrambled to his feet and stumbled out.
The footsteps hurried away in the corridor, growing fainter and fainter until they finally disappeared at the end of the stone steps.