Tianlong Temple

Langya Xing was currently reclining on a gold-thread nanmu chair, the dark patterns on his moon-white brocade robe shifting with his movements like starlight, while gold-embroidered cloud motifs flickered in and out of view in the candlelight.

He leisurely blew the foam off his Biluochun tea, not even sparing a sidelong glance at the flustered emperor, exuding an air of languid indifference.

"Why must Your Majesty be so angered?" Langya Xing took a light sip of tea, setting the cup down on a small table inlaid with gold-woven lotus patterns. "The ones I sent before were merely servants from my clan. I thought a mere Carefree Prince could be handled by two household retainers, but it turns out this most playful of princes has bested me in this round."

"Tsk, tsk. There's a hint of hidden depth to him, it seems."

The emperor whirled around, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes. "Young Master Langya's words—are you blaming Imperial We for underestimating the Carefree Prince?"

"Underestimating?" Facing the emperor of Great Yan, Langya Xing merely let out a light laugh. The jade cup clinked against the table with a crisp sound, shaking the cinnabar inkstone on the desk.

"Your Majesty, even my Langya Aristocratic Family's Houtian Realm experts have been lost. Just how much has this Carefree Prince hidden? There's not a shred of intelligence on it. Your Great Yan imperial intelligence network is truly trampled into the mud." Though he addressed him as "Your Majesty," Langya Xing's tone carried not a trace of respect.

The emperor stiffened, veins bulging at his temples.

He wanted to lash out, but recalling the unfathomable power behind Langya Xing's Langya Family, and Langya Xing's own terrifying martial arts cultivation...

"Young Master Xing..." The emperor forced a deep breath, a bitter taste rising in his throat. "This time, the intelligence failure is Imperial We's fault. Imperial We bears the responsibility."

The emperor inhaled deeply and continued.

"But though the Carefree Prince's fief is small, it sits at the throat of Great Yan's strategic routes. We cannot let him..."

"Enough." Langya Xing raised a hand to cut him off, his jade-white fingertip dragging across the redwood tea table, leaving a faint scratch on the surface. "Why use an ox-cleaver to kill a chicken? The pieces I sent were merely too weak. How about..."

He suddenly curled his lips and withdrew a bronze token engraved with a pattern from his sleeve. "Let's summon a true expert."

The emperor's gaze fell on the token, his expression shifting. "Tianlong Temple?! This is Master Dehua of Tianlong Temple's identity token! But the rumors say he has been in seclusion for ten years—how could he easily..."

"Master Dehua has indeed left the mortal world behind." Langya Xing chuckled softly, his jade-white fingers gently stroking the token. "But he owes my Langya Family a favor. And that favor has come due."

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past the window, rattling the lattice frames.

The emperor stared at Langya Xing's composed face, thoughts churning in his mind.

Tianlong Temple was a pillar of the martial world, and Master Dehua was one of only four Grandmasters of Martial Arts at the Houtian Limit in Great Yan. If he could be persuaded to act, let alone a single Carefree Prince—even if all the feudal lords who hoarded troops joined forces, they might not withstand him.

"Young Master Langya, since you have a plan already, when might..."

"Three days from now, on the night of the full moon." Langya Xing cut off the emperor's words, strolling to the window and gazing at the darkening sky beyond the palace walls. "Then my Langya Family will dispatch new servants, along with Master Dehua, to the Carefree Prince's Estate."

He looked down at the trembling emperor, a cold smile in his eyes. "Even if the Carefree Prince had nine lives, they'll all be left there." His tone brooked no argument, as if he had already seen the prince's end.

The emperor nodded and spoke. "Everything depends on Young Master Xing."

No sooner had the words fallen than a black shadow flickered past the window. Langya Xing's sleeve shot out a stream of true qi, the sharp whistling sound piercing the air as it instantly pinned the assassin dead against the palace wall.

Amid the terrified shriek of the old eunuch, Langya Xing leisurely withdrew his hand, his long fingers gleaming white in the candlelight. "Your Majesty's palace security needs a thorough overhaul." His voice was calm and elegant.

After Langya Xing departed, the emperor stared at the mess on the floor, then suddenly kicked over a bronze incense burner.

Sparks scattered across the carpet, but no one dared step forward to extinguish them.

He fixed his gaze on the old eunuch cowering in the corner, his voice barely containing a raging inferno. "Issue an edict: seal the capital, conduct a strict investigation of the assassin! All martial artists... better to kill the innocent than let one escape!" Every word was ground out between his teeth, laced with boundless fear.

The morning mist had not yet fully dissipated when the bells of Tianlong Temple began to toll softly.

On the bluestone path, pilgrims carrying incense, families in tow, climbed the winding stone steps one after another.

The red walls flanking the temple gates glowed warmly in the morning light, and wind chimes at the eaves tinkled, weaving together with the rising and falling chants into a melody.

Inside the Mahavira Hall, sandalwood smoke curled and candlelight flickered.

A middle-aged woman clasped her hands together, whispering softly before the Buddha statue, tears at the corners of her eyes, as if praying for her long-ailing young son to recover soon.

A man in official robes wore a solemn expression, his forehead lightly touching the prayer mat, murmuring incantations, hoping for a smooth promotion in the upcoming civil examination.

A young scholar gazed at the Buddha, praying for success in the imperial exams to bring glory to his family.

Wisps of blue smoke rose from the incense burner, as if carrying the wishes of the crowd slowly toward the heavens.

On the secluded rear mountain of Tianlong Temple, the main hall was steeped in an even more serene and solemn atmosphere.

The carved wooden window was half-open, slanting sunlight streaming through the lattice, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

Master Dehua, with kind brows and kind eyes, draped in a gray kasaya, sat upright on a meditation cushion.

He slowly turned a string of prayer beads made from century-old bodhi seeds, each bead polished to a warm luster, while softly chanting sutras in a low, peaceful voice that seemed to soothe the turmoil in one's heart.

Behind him, three elderly monks also sat in proper posture, focused on their recitations. The entire hall echoed only with the steady hum of chanting, as if time itself had frozen.

Suddenly, a wind invaded the hall without warning, and the copper bells at the eaves clattered harshly.

The candles, which had been burning steadily, flickered violently, their flames dimming and brightening, casting distorted, swaying shadows on the walls. The atmosphere instantly grew tense.

At that moment, the prayer beads in Master Dehua's hand stopped abruptly, and the smooth flow of his chanting was cut short.

The three elderly monks behind him seemed affected as well, halting their recitations and slowly opening their eyes.

"Elder brother, what's happening..."

Master Dewen frowned, noticing the shift in the hall's atmosphere, all stemming from a change in the state of mind of Master Dehua, who sat at the head.

Master Dehua narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze deep.

He let out a soft sigh and spoke calmly, his tone even. "It's nothing. An uninvited guest has simply arrived."

No sooner had he spoken than three sets of footsteps—one light, two heavy—were heard from the small courtyard outside the hall, approaching slowly from a distance.

"Master Dehua, abbot of Tianlong Temple! I've long admired your reputation! Long admired!" Before the person had even entered, a voice, elegant and noble, rang out.