Elsewhere, Meng Zhao employed his methods and took Lu Hou'er and Gan Mingfeng far away from Beitang Xing and Old Daoist Liu, finally landing in a grove of emerald bamboo. Beneath the bamboo grove ran a small stream flowing down from the mountain, its waters clear and murmuring. The scenery was rather pleasant.
Lu Hou'er had yet to fully recover his senses. His gaze was somewhat vacant, simply because he had actually met a member of the Imperial Clan—and the son of the reigning Emperor, no less. His emotions remained unsettled for a long while.
What he had not expected even more was that the Twelfth Prince clearly wished to befriend Meng Zhao, yet Meng Zhao avoided him as though he were a venomous snake or savage beast. It practically overturned everything Lu Hou'er knew.
Good heavens, that was an Imperial Scion, the Emperor's own son! How could Meng Zhao simply turn a blind eye?
It had to be said that from the ancient Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, through the many unified dynasties led by Emperor Yu in the middle ages, the Divine Continent had always circulated such notions as the Mandate of Heaven and divine sanctity, and these ideas had flourished far and wide.
Unlike the divine right of kings in worlds without the extraordinary, the Divine Continent emphasized the union of imperial and divine authority, the fusion of man and god. Naturally, the blood flowing through an Emperor's family and relatives was also said to be divine blood, placing them in lofty positions, transcendent from birth.
Such notions were certainly wrong, for many founding ancestors of dynasties had risen from nothing.
Yet one point was indeed beyond doubt: even those who rose from nothing truly belonged to the race of Gods and Devils. The claim that man