At the same time, the imperial court—or rather, the highest ruler of the Great Ming Empire, the Jiajing Emperor—also received reports that divine signs had appeared on Jade Maiden Peak of the Huashan Sect.
Of course, unlike the mere martial arts sect on Mount Song, the imperial court received its news much earlier and in far greater detail. The secret report arrived by fast horse almost the very next day, on the first day of the New Year.
And so!
That "immortal" emperor—whose bearing was otherworldly, whose cunning bordered on the demonic, who was obsessed with Daoism and prayed for eternal life, and who, despite not attending court for nearly twenty years, still understood the political situation inside and out—could no longer sit still. He toyed with a host of equally clever powerful ministers and eunuchs as if they were in the palm of his hand, while he himself sat back and reaped the benefits.
Well?
At that moment, sandalwood incense curled through Yongshou Palace in the Western Garden of the Great Ming Empire. The Jiajing Emperor sat upright on his dragon bed, dressed in a Daoist robe embroidered with golden dragons and wearing a purple-gold crown. His gaunt face was fixed on the secret report in his hands. His eyes held an otherworldly serenity, yet beneath it flickered a burning longing for eternal life.
Yes, this was the imperial Western Garden of the Great Ming—not the Forbidden City!
After surviving the "Renyin Palace Incident," when a group of palace maids had nearly strangled him to death, he had developed a deep-seated fear and lingering trauma toward the Forbidden City's inner palace. From then on, he began his long life as an emperor away from the palace, residing in the Western Garden.
The Western Garden had originally been built and