Tianlong Temple

At this moment Langya Xing was leaning against a gilded nanmu chair, the dark patterns on his moon-white brocade robe shifting with his movements like the luster of stars, the cloud motifs embroidered with gold thread looming faintly under the candlelight.

He leisurely blew away the foam of the Biluochun Tea, not even sparing a glance of peripheral vision at the flustered sovereign, exuding an aura of languid ease throughout his entire body.

Why must Your Majesty fly into a rage? Langya Xing took a light sip of tea, setting the teacup down on a small table carved with golden intertwined lotus patterns. The ones sent previously were merely domestic servants from my clan, and I originally thought that a mere Carefree Prince would be easily handled by two servants. Yet I never expected this Carefree Prince, who is most adept at playing games with the world, to cause me to lose a round.

Tsk tsk, there really is a flavor of hiding one's depth.

The emperor suddenly turned around, a flash of sharp light in his eyes: Could Young Master Xing's words be blaming Us for underestimating the Carefree Prince?

Underestimating? Facing the emperor of Great Yan, Langya Xing merely let out a light laugh, his mutton-fat jade teacup clinking against the table to produce a crisp sound that made the cinnabar inkstone on the desk slightly tremble.

Your Majesty, even someone from the Houtian Realm of my Langya Aristocratic Family was lost there. How many things is this Carefree Prince actually hiding? To think there was not a single piece of intelligence—your Great Yan imperial intelligence network has truly been trampled into the mud. Though addressing him as Your Majesty, Langya Xing's tone held not a shred of respect whatsoever.

The emperor's entire body stiffened, the veins at his temples throbbing violently.

He wanted to flare up, but thought of the Langya Aristocratic Family behind the other person—whose strength was unfathomable—along with Langya Xing's own terrifying martial arts cultivation.

Young Master Xing... The emperor had no choice but to take a deep breath, the fishy taste of blood churning in his throat. This time it was Our intelligence that failed, and it is Our responsibility.

The emperor took a deep breath and continued speaking.

Yet although this Carefree Prince's fief is small, it lies at the vital throat of Our Great Yan, so he absolutely cannot be allowed...

Enough. Langya Xing raised a hand to interrupt, his jade-white fingertips brushing across the mahogany tea table, his nails leaving faint scratches on the surface. Why use a butcher's knife to slaughter a chicken? The pawns sent previously were simply too weak. Why not...

He suddenly curved the corners of his lips, taking out a bronze token carved with patterns from his sleeve. Invite a true expert.

The emperor's gaze landed on the token, his expression changing slightly: Tianlong Temple?! This is the identity token of Master Dehua from Tianlong Temple! Yet rumor has it that he has been in seclusion for ten full years; how could he easily...

Master Dehua indeed has no regard for worldly dust. Langya Xing chuckled softly, his jade-white fingers gently stroking the token. Yet he does owe a favor to my Langya Aristocratic Family, and this favor has also reached the time when it should be repaid.

A gust of fierce wind suddenly swept past outside the window, making the window lattices rattle loudly.

The emperor gazed at Langya Xing's composed and unhurried countenance, pondering inwardly.

Tianlong Temple was an existence akin to the Northern Dipper in the pugilistic world, and Master Dehua was furthermore one of the only four Grandmasters of Martial Arts at the Houtian Limit in Great Yan. If he could be persuaded to take action, let alone a single Carefree Prince, even those feudal lords who held troops and waxed arrogant by joining forces might not be able to block him.

Since Young Master Xing is already fully confident, I wonder when...

Three days from now, the night of the full moon. Langya Xing interrupted the emperor, walking unhurriedly to the window and gazing at the darkening skies outside the palace walls. At that time my Langya Family will dispatch new domestic servants carrying Master Dehua to head for the Carefree Prince's Estate.

He lowered his head to look down at the emperor, who was trembling in terror, the amusement in his eyes icy-cold. Even if the Carefree Prince has nine lives, he will have to leave every single one of them there. His tone allowed no doubt, as if he had already foreseen the Carefree Prince's end.

The emperor nodded and spoke up: Everything relies on Young Master Xing.

Before his voice had even faded, a black shadow suddenly swept past outside the window. A stream of true Qi from Langya Xing's sleeve had already pierced through the air, carrying a fierce whistling sound that instantly pinned the assassin to the palace wall.

Amidst the old eunuch's terrified shriek, Langya Xing unhurriedly withdrew his hand, his slender fingers reflecting a white light beneath the candlelight: Your Majesty's palace guards ought to be thoroughly disciplined. His tone was bland and elegant.

Once Langya Xing departed, the emperor gazed at the wreckage all over the floor and suddenly kicked over a bronze incense burner.

Sparks splashed onto the carpet, yet no one dared to step forward to extinguish them.

He stared at the old eunuch cowering in the corner, a monstrous fury suppressed in his voice: Pass the decree, seal the Capital City, and strictly investigate the assassins! All pugilistic people... Better to execute the innocent by mistake than let any go! Every single word burst from between his teeth, carrying boundless terror.

The morning mist had not yet completely dissipated, and the bell of Tianlong Temple was already ringing leisurely.

Along the bluestone slab path, pilgrims came with their families, holding incense sticks and treading upward step by step along the winding stone steps.

The red walls on both sides of the temple gate radiated warmth in the morning light, and the wind chimes at the eaves tinkled, intertwining with the rising and falling chants to form a melody.

Inside the Mahavira Hall, sandalwood smoke curled and candle flames flickered.

A middle-aged woman held her hands together in prayer, whispering softly toward the Buddha statue with tears in the corners of her eyes, as if praying for the early recovery of her sickly young son;

A man wearing official attire had a solemn expression, his forehead lightly touching the prayer mat as he muttered words under his breath, hoping for a smooth promotion in the upcoming official examinations;

There were even young scholars gazing at the Buddha statue, praying to pass the imperial examinations and bring honor to their ancestors.

Green smoke drifted in curls from the incense burner, seemingly bearing everyone's wishes as it slowly rose toward the heavens.

Meanwhile, in the tranquil back mountain of Tianlong Temple, an even more serene and solemn atmosphere permeated the main hall.

The carved wooden windows were half-open, and slanting sunlight pierced through the window lattices, casting mottled light and shadow upon the floor.

Master Dehua wore a benevolent expression and was draped in a gray cassock, sitting cross-legged atop a prayer mat.

While slowly turning the string of prayer beads made from centennial Bodhi seeds in his hand—each bead rubbed smooth and shining with warmth—he chanted softly in a low and peaceful voice that seemed capable of smoothing away the ripples at the bottom of a person's heart.

Behind him, three elderly monks sat upright with equal composure, attentively chanting scriptures. Throughout the entire hall only the leisurely chanting of scriptures echoed, as if time itself had frozen at this moment.

Suddenly, a gust of wind invaded the hall without the slightest warning, causing the copper bells at the eaves to emit a harsh and chaotic jangle.

The candle flames that had been burning quietly shook violently, the fire tongues turning dim and bright as they cast distorted, swaying shadows upon the walls, and the atmosphere instantly grew tense.

At this very instant, the prayer beads turning in Master Dehua's hand came to an abrupt halt, and the smooth chanting of scriptures was likewise severed instantly.

The three elderly monks behind seemed to have been affected as well, simultaneously stopping their recitation and slowly opening their eyes.

Senior Brother, what has happened...

Master Dewen frowned deeply, noticing that the atmosphere inside the hall had changed somewhat, and the cause of all this was that the state of mind of Master Dehua, who sat in the prime position, seemed to have undergone a shift.

Master Dehua narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze profound.

He sighed lightly, his tone calm as he spoke slowly: No matter, an uninvited guest has merely arrived.

Before his voice had even faded, the sound of one light and two heavy footsteps could be heard coming from the small courtyard outside the hall, slowly walking toward this place from afar.

Abbot Dehua of Tianlong Temple! Long admired! Truly long admired! Before the person had even stepped inside, an elegant and luxurious voice had already drifted over.