Ying Zheng's departure was like a stone cast into a deep pool; beneath the ripples surged even more violent undercurrents. That sentence—"Some doors cannot be closed once opened"—was both a warning and a confirmation. The future Ancestral Dragon had thoroughly regarded him as one of his own kind, someone harboring secrets. This realization brought not protection, but more dangerous, naked scrutiny and value to be exploited.
The black wooden fragment in his palm retained a faint coolness, suppressing the burning pain of the rune's backlash in his chest. Cheng Xi closed his eyes and sorted through his tangled thoughts amid the heavy scent of medicine. Had Ying Zheng recognized the witch script on the fragment? Or had he merely sensed that it was extraordinary? Had Lu Buwei's people already set their sights on it? That demonic Peach Blossom Petal... the Witch Script Wood Fragment in Ying Xi's chest... and the red shadow that had flashed past the window last night... The scattered pieces faintly pointed in the same direction—
Leave Xianyang Palace!
This place had become the Storm Eye! The strange "gaze" upon King Zhuangxiang, Lu Buwei's killing intent, Ying Zheng's scrutiny, and the owner of the "Peach Blossom Petal," hidden in the shadows with unfathomable methods... He was like a man walking a steel wire over a bottomless abyss; one misstep would leave him shattered to pieces! Only by escaping this cage could he gain breathing room, find a way to restore the system's energy, and explore the path beyond the ordinary!
"An illness..." His lips moved soundlessly in the dark. Only an "illness"—and one so grave that even the Imperial Physician was helpless, an evil disease impossible to treat within the deep palace—could become the most reasonable talisman protecting his temporary departure from this vortex of power!
Over the following days, Cheng Xi completely became a "medicine jar." He drank every bowl of calming decoction prescribed by the Imperial Physician, yet his complexion grew grayer by the day. Before the servants, he began unconsciously clutching his chest and frowning, breathing in short gasps. Sometimes, before Zhao Gao, he would suddenly break into a violent coughing fit, bright red blood Seeping Out between his fingers. In truth, it was chicken blood stored in a pouch beforehand.
"Lord Chang'an's pulse..." After another examination, the old Imperial Physician, his temples streaked with white, furrowed his brows into a knot. Facing the anxious King Zhuangxiang, Ying Zheng's somber expression, and Lu Buwei, he carefully chose his words. "Evil stagnation lies within, damaging the Heart Meridian... Ordinary medicines cannot reach it. He may need... quiet recuperation in a place of spiritual beauty amid the mountains and wilderness. Perhaps he may be nourished by the pure qi of heaven and earth..."
"A place of spiritual beauty in the mountains?" Lu Buwei's gentle voice sounded, carrying precisely the right amount of concern. "Within Hangu Pass, only Mount Li and Zhongnan Mountain would suffice. But the journey is rough. Should his mind be further taxed..." He did not finish, but his meaning was clear.
"Royal Uncle, you are mistaken." Ying Zheng's voice remained steady, yet it carried undeniable force. "Since the Imperial Physician says he must recuperate in a place of spiritual beauty, that is where his hope of life lies. Lord Chang'an is Father King's beloved son and my Royal Brother. How could we abandon his chance of survival merely because of the hardship of travel?" He turned to King Zhuangxiang and cupped his hands. "This son requests the duty of personally choosing guards to escort Royal Brother to Zhongnan Mountain, where he may seek renowned physicians and recluses and recuperate in peace!"
King Zhuangxiang looked at his young son on the couch, his fading breath shallow and his little face deathly pale. Pain and exhaustion intertwined in his eyes. At last, he weakly waved a hand. "Granted... Zheng'er, you must ensure your Royal Brother's safety..."
Lu Buwei lowered his gaze, concealing the cold glint that flashed through his eyes. Was Ying Zheng truly protecting his brother, or did he merely wish to keep this "variable" firmly in hand?
The night before leaving the palace, Cheng Xi dismissed everyone and sat alone beneath the lamp. The hall was permeated with medicinal fumes. His face was waxen, his breath weak, but his eyes shone startlingly bright in the dull yellow candlelight. He spread open his palm, and the life-saving black wooden fragment lay quietly there. In his other hand, he held a fine brush saturated with cinnabar.
During the day, using the excuse that he was "troubled by boredom during his illness and wished to paint a few landscapes to calm his mind," he had obtained red essence cinnabar, specifically used for preparing talismans, from the Imperial Physician. Now, he cast aside every stray thought and focused all his mind upon the brush tip, following the most basic, most stable, and most likely successful Spirit Gathering Rune—the one the system had repeatedly deduced and corrected countless times in his mind!
The brush touched the plain silk.
Vermilion lines wound and flowed. He no longer sought profundity or complexity, only stability! Every stroke condensed all his mental will, drawing upon the faint cool aura from the wooden fragment at his chest and carefully channeling it into the brush tip!
Sweat soaked his hair at the temples and slid down his pale cheeks. Waves of dull pain came from the unhealed wound in his chest—the price of forcibly driving his meager spiritual power. The cinnabar at the brush tip flowed with red light like a living thing, struggling to extend across the plain silk.
The final stroke—finished!
Buzz...
A faint layer of pale red light abruptly lit up on the rune upon the silk, visible only to Cheng Xi! The light lasted for three breaths before slowly drawing inward and falling silent. The rune had taken shape. The cinnabar lines were smooth and complete, faintly resonating with the sparse spiritual energy around them!
Succeeded! Though its effects might be negligible, this meant that he had truly drawn his first talisman with actual power!
He carefully folded the Spirit Gathering Body Nourishing Talisman and hid it close against his body. The wooden fragment's cool aura merged with the rune's faint spiritual power, and the burning pain in his chest truly eased a little.
"Lord Chang'an, it is time to depart." Zhao Gao's voice sounded outside the hall, breaking the night's silence.
Cheng Xi took a deep breath, suppressed every emotion, and put on that frail appearance of a body ravaged by illness. Supported by servants, he walked out through the hall doors, taking three breaths with every step.
Outside the palace gate, carriages and horses stood in solemn ranks. Ying Zheng wore fitted black garments and stood with one hand on his sword, straight as a pine, his calm gaze fixed on Cheng Xi. Behind him stood several dozen fierce, capable warriors, all dressed in black with restrained auras. They were clearly carefully selected Qin King's Guards. Farther away, a luxurious carriage drawn by four pure black steeds waited in silence.
The night wind carried a chill, stirring Cheng Xi's thin robes. He raised his head and looked toward the towering outline of Xianyang Palace, crouching in the darkness like a colossal beast. At last... he was going to temporarily leave this golden cage.
Just as he was being helped forward and was about to step onto the carriage's footboard—
[Highest-Level Alert! High-dimensional order lock detected! Target: Host! Direction: Due east! Distance: Rapidly approaching!... Attribute assessment: Human Sect legacy mark!... Bzzzt... Warning! Hostile scan encountered!...]
Within his mind, the system, silent for a long time, erupted in an unprecedented shriek! Its cold mechanical voice twisted into distortion under violent fluctuation of energy!
Cheng Xi's entire body jolted. He abruptly raised his head and looked toward the eastern sky!
In the Deepest darkness before dawn, from the direction of Xianyang City's towering eastern gate—Zhidiao Pavilion—a pale golden streak of light, invisible to the naked eye and perceptible only through the system's frenzied warnings, tore through the air like an arrow of judgment ripping apart the night. It came with terrifying speed! Within that light was a vast and majestic yet cold, merciless will of order, carrying scrutiny, lock-on, and even... a faint, almost imperceptible intent to erase!
Its target was him!
"Royal Brother?" Ying Zheng keenly noticed his sudden stiffness and drastic change in expression, his sword-like brows drawing together slightly.
Cheng Xi forcibly suppressed the sweet, fishy taste rising in his throat and the trembling from the depths of his soul. He practically threw himself into the carriage, using up his last strength to scream, his voice warped out of tune by overwhelming terror:
"Go, now!"
The instant the carriage curtain fell, that pale golden, terrifying streak of ordered light had already arrived above the head!
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