Changluo.
The Imperial Palace.
The young emperor was sleeping soundly on the dragon bed.
The palace maids and eunuchs standing outside watched their noses and hearts, without making even the slightest sound as they breathed.
The deep night was silent, just as always.
A thread of azure qi descended, and the emperor lying on the bed turned over.
"Where am I?"
In a daze, the emperor walked into a courtyard filled with peach blossoms. Gazing at the trees laden with blooms, he suddenly felt that the place was somewhat familiar.
Recently, he had been utterly exhausted by political affairs.
The realm had enjoyed peace for a long time, and the population had multiplied while farmland remained insufficient. On top of that, human greed was an abyss without a bottom. The whole world had become like dry tinder beneath a raging flame—a dangerous situation that needed only the faintest spark to burst into flames.
Adding fuel to the fire were the sects springing up everywhere, along with all kinds of strange practitioners and occultists appearing one after another.
Although the cultivation world hailed it as a rare grand occasion for the immortal cultivation world in centuries, cultivators did not respect the Imperial Court, while wandering occultists often delighted in using evil arts to harm people. All of them were destabilizing factors.
Yan Han had no choice but to establish the Curse-Breaking Department, creating posts such as the Curse-Breaking General and Curse-Breaking Colonel and spreading them throughout every commandery and county. It had also decreed that whenever evil practitioners used wicked arts to harm people, they were to be dealt with directly using black-dog blood to break their spells, then drowned in cesspits until dead!
Even so, it still could not withstand the surging tide of events.
Yet now, gazing at