Arrogant Words

# Chapter 5: Arrogant Words

The doors of the Sun Palace closed behind him with a dull thud.

Taiyi leaned against the cold door panels, letting out a long breath. That breath had been held for too long; when it finally escaped, his chest trembled. He slowly slid down to sit on the floor, his black imperial robe spreading across the jade tiles like a heavy expanse of night.

The tension he'd maintained in Lingxiao Palace had now completely dissipated.

His legs were weak, his hands shaking, his palms slick with sweat. He raised a hand and looked at it—his fingertips still quivered faintly. Not from fear, but from the aftermath of that new force rampaging through his meridians. The nascent Chaos True Sun Fire was like a just-awakened beast, charging left and right in his Dantian, burning so hot it felt like his organs were on fire.

[Recommend immediate meditation to stabilize the newborn power]

The system's prompt rang in his mind, calm and somewhat cold.

"I know." Taiyi responded in a low voice, his tone hoarse beyond recognition.

He pushed himself up from the floor, his legs still weak—he staggered once before steadying himself. Looking around, the interior of the Sun Palace was... simpler than he'd imagined. None of Lingxiao Palace's overwhelming luxury; just a fairly large bedchamber with sparse furnishings: a white jade bed, a writing desk, and a few shelves holding classics. A star chart hung on the wall, its constellations dotted with real star sand, glowing faintly in the dim light.

The only splash of color was the Fire Coral by the window—entirely crimson, its branches winding like frozen flames. That was something that grew deep within the Sun Star, gaining only an inch every thousand years. This one was at least three zhang tall, who knew how many years it had been nurtured.

Taiyi walked to the bed and sat down, closing his eyes to begin meditation.

The Chaos True Sun Fire coursed through his meridians, leaving a trail of searing pain. It felt like someone was shoving red-hot iron rods through his body, cold sweat beading on his forehead from the agony. But pain aside, the power was real—he could feel it. Every thread of true fire carried two utterly different wills: the majestic righteousness of the Sun True Fire, and the violent chaos of the Blood of Wrath.

These two things crammed together—it was a miracle they hadn't exploded him on the spot.

[Refinement progress: 74%]

[Recommend guiding the true fire through a full circulation cycle to accelerate fusion]

Taiyi gritted his teeth and, following the cultivation methods in Eastern Emperor Taiyi's memories, began circulating his energy. Spiritual energy surged in from all directions, drawn into his body, flowing along his meridians. But halfway through, the Chaos True Sun Fire started acting up—it refused to follow the established path, insisting on charging recklessly like an unbridled wild horse.

"Behave... yourself!"

Taiyi forced the words through clenched teeth, his Primordial Spirit power pressing down fiercely.

The two forces wrestled within his meridians. On one side, the orthodox cultivation method Eastern Emperor Taiyi had practiced for countless kalpas—proper, balanced, and righteous. On the other, the newborn Chaos True Sun Fire—savage, violent, and unreasonable. Their collision shook his qi and blood, a sweetness rising in his throat; he nearly spat blood.

But he didn't let up.

Instead, he pressed down even harder.

Because a thought suddenly surfaced in his mind—if he was going to play the role of Eastern Emperor Taiyi, that arrogant being who dared to overturn the heavens, then what was this little pain? Back then, the original had nearly had his Primordial Spirit shattered by the Chaos Bell's toll when refining it, and he'd still endured.

He clenched his jaw, veins bulging on his forehead, nails digging deep into his palms.

Bit by bit, he forcibly twisted that rampaging true fire back onto the right track.

When the true fire completed its first full cycle through his meridians, the burning pain suddenly lessened. Not gone—just... accustomed. Or perhaps his body was beginning to adapt to the pain. By the third cycle, a strange sense of relief emerged from the agony—like a long-clogged river channel being forcibly cleared. Crude, but open.

[Refinement progress: 89%]

[Chaos True Sun Fire initially stabilized]

Taiyi opened his eyes and let out a long breath of turbid qi.

That breath was dark red. Three feet from his mouth, it ignited with a chi sound, dissipating into a wisp of blue smoke. He looked down at his hands—beneath the skin, a faint interplay of gold and red light flowed, like magma surging beneath rock.

Done.

He clenched his fist, knuckles cracking crisply. Power—real, tangible power—at least thirty percent stronger than before. And he could feel it carried a peculiar quality: a natural destructive urge toward things of strict order, like the laws of heaven or array restrictions.

Like a starving wolf eyeing a slab of fat.

"Is this... a cheat code?" Taiyi muttered to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching.

[That is one way to understand it. But reminder to host: Anomaly Value has reached 23. Frequent use of forbidden power will accelerate Heaven's attention.]

"I know. Naggy."

He rose from the bed and walked to the window. Outside lay a vast sea of clouds, and at its edge, the outline of the Sun Star was visible—the star that had birthed him, now slowly moving along its celestial track, radiating infinite light and heat.

Three days from now, he had to go there to check in.

The system said the danger level was four and a half stars—basically nine deaths out of ten. But strangely, Taiyi didn't feel much fear. Instead, there was a hint of... anticipation? Like knowing there were mountains of blades and seas of fire ahead, but wanting to see just how sharp the blades were, how hot the fire burned.

Crazy.

He was really being influenced by Eastern Emperor Taiyi's memories.

He shook his head, turned, and walked to the writing desk. A pile of jade slips lay on it. He picked one up at random and unrolled it—it was the Northern Border Military Report submitted by Bai Ze, the handwriting as neat as if measured with a ruler. He picked up another—the Treasury Inventory, densely listing the Heavenly Court's assets. The third was...

Taiyi's hand stopped.

It was a private notebook, no title, just casually tied with a string. He untied the string, the jade slip spreading open in his hand, revealing scrawled handwriting. Not the meticulous script of official documents—just random notes, some places even crossed out and rewritten.

"That bastard Di Jiang destroyed three of my auxiliary stars again today. Damn him."

"My elder brother wants to form a marriage alliance with West Kunlun. Foolish. Why does the Demon Race need to rely on others?"

"Bai Ze advises a hundred-year truce. Hah. A scholar's naivety."

"Stuck in cultivation. The Chaos Bell's thirty-seventh seal is hard to break. Annoying."

"That kid Lu Ya transformed today. His cry was clear and sharp. Like me."

Reading the words one by one, Taiyi's breathing gradually slowed.

This was Eastern Emperor Taiyi behind the scenes—not so arrogant, not so proud. He got annoyed, angry, cursed people out, and felt happy when his nephew transformed. Like a living, breathing person, not that lofty symbol on Lingxiao Palace's throne.

He suddenly felt the jade slip in his hand burning hot.

Like he'd peeked at someone else's diary.

But then he reconsidered—now he was Eastern Emperor Taiyi. Reading his own diary wasn't peeking at all, was it?

Just as he was thinking this, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door.

Light, but steady, step by step approaching the bedchamber. Taiyi's heart tightened. His instinct was to stash the jade slip away, but his hand stopped halfway—why hide it? This was his bedchamber, his belongings. What was there to conceal?

He set down the jade slip, straightened his robes, and turned to face the door.

The door was pushed open gently.

In came Fei Lian.

This demon saint, with his human face and bird body, had now suppressed all his aura. Even the wings on his back were folded tight, as if afraid to disturb anything. In his hands, he carried a jade tray, on which sat a fist-sized jade bottle. The bottle was crystal clear, revealing the liquid sloshing inside—golden-red, like molten gold.

"Your Majesty." Fei Lian bowed, his voice low. "Lord Bai Ze sent this. Solar Essence, to aid your cultivation."

Taiyi nodded, saying nothing.

Fei Lian placed the jade tray on the desk, his movements so light they made no sound. After setting it down, he stepped back two paces but didn't leave immediately. Instead, he raised his head and shot Taiyi a quick glance.

That look was complicated.

There was worry, confusion, and a trace of... something Taiyi couldn't read.

"Something else?" Taiyi spoke, his tone perfectly measured—three parts authority, two parts casual, the rest a clear "spit it out" impatience.

Fei Lian hesitated.

This demon saint, known for his taciturn nature, now seemed uncertain. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, then swallowed it back. He did this twice before finally speaking, his voice even lower:

"Your Majesty's words at Lingxiao Palace today... were they true?"

Taiyi narrowed his eyes.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the desk, picked up the jade bottle. The bottle was warm to the touch, and the Solar Essence inside radiated pure True Sun Fire energy. Just holding it made his whole body feel comfortable.

"What do you think?" He tossed the question back, pulled out the stopper, and took a sip.

The liquid went down his throat like swallowing magma. A scalding heat burned from his throat all the way to his stomach, then exploded, transforming into pure energy that scattered through his limbs and bones. The Chaos True Sun Fire, like a cat catching the scent of fish, pounced greedily, devouring this kindred power.

Fei Lian watched Taiyi for a long time.

Then he suddenly dropped to one knee, the motion clean and sharp.

"True or false, Fei Lian swears to follow to the death." He spoke without hesitation, no doubt in his voice. "If Your Majesty wants war, the Wind Division will be the sharpest blade in Your Majesty's hand. If Your Majesty wants peace, the Wind Division will be the sturdiest shield at Your Majesty's back."

Taiyi's hand, holding the jade bottle, paused.

He looked down at Fei Lian kneeling on the ground, and a complex emotion surged in his heart—not gratitude, not relief, but a heavy sense of responsibility. These people, these demons, they placed their lives in your hands, staked their futures on you, not because you were powerful, but because they believed in you.

Believed in that arrogant, domineering, world-disdaining Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

But right now, you were a fake.

"Rise." Taiyi's voice softened a little. "It's not yet time for life and death."

Fei Lian stood, still keeping his eyes lowered.

"What else did Bai Ze say?"

"Lord Bai Ze said..." Fei Lian paused. "He said that although Your Majesty's words today were wild and reckless, they weren't without reason. The Witch Race has been making frequent moves lately, and it's indeed time to prepare defenses. Only..."

"Only what?"

"Only that you shouldn't have spoken so definitively." Fei Lian spoke cautiously. "The Heavenly Court is beset by internal strife and external threats. It can't afford the drain of all-out war. Lord Bai Ze suggests first stationing troops at the border as a show of force, while sending someone to West Kunlun to explain and stabilize Queen Mother of the West's side."

Taiyi listened, saying nothing.

He walked to the window and looked out at the sea of clouds. The clouds were dyed golden-red under the setting sun, as if on fire. In the distance, immortal birds returned to their nests, their wings parting the cloud vapor, leaving long trails behind.

Bai Ze's advice was steady, rational—the words of a qualified wise man.

But Eastern Emperor Taiyi had never been a rational man.

"Tell Bai Ze," Taiyi spoke, his voice calm, "I've heard his advice. But how I act is my own business."

"Yes."

Fei Lian bowed and withdrew.

The door closed again.

The bedchamber fell silent once more, so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat. Taiyi stood by the window, watching the sky darken bit by bit, the sea of clouds shifting from golden-red to dark purple, finally sinking into ink-black.

He suddenly remembered something.

He reached into his chest and felt around, pulling out a small trinket—a jade pendant, warm and translucent, carved with a spreading-winged Golden Crow. He'd grabbed it from his dressing case this morning before leaving. Memory told him this was a birthday gift from Di Jun, many years ago.

Back then, the two brothers hadn't yet established the Heavenly Court. They were just two newly transformed Golden Crows on the Sun Star. Di Jun had transformed three hundred years earlier, always acting the elder brother, looking after him in every way. This pendant was carved from Warm Jade deep within the Sun Star, taking Di Jun three whole years.

"If we ever get separated, use this to recognize each other," Di Jun had said back then, grinning foolishly.

Taiyi clenched the pendant in his palm, its warm touch spreading from his hand.

In three days, he had to check in at the Sun Star's core.

That place... has This Seat been there? No memory of it. The temperature at the Sun Star's core is terrifyingly high—even a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal wouldn't dare tread lightly. Only innate divinities like them, born from the Sun Star itself, could withstand it.

But withstanding it is one thing; comfort is another.

He sighed, tucked the jade pendant back into his robe, and turned toward the white jade couch. Sitting cross-legged, he began to regulate his breath again. The Chaos True Sun Fire wasn't fully stabilized yet—he had to hurry.

Two days and two nights passed like that.

On the morning of the third day, Taiyi opened his eyes.

A flicker of gold and red light flashed in his pupils, then quickly faded. He stood up and stretched, joints cracking like firecrackers. Sensing the power within his body—stable, completely stable. The Chaos True Sun Fire obediently stayed in his Dantian, still carrying that "ready to rebel" attitude, but at least it listened now.

code
[Refinement Complete]
[Chaos True Sun Fire (Stable State)]
[Host may attempt to invoke; start with small amounts recommended]

Taiyi raised his right hand, focusing his mind.

A wisp of flame emerged from his fingertip—golden-red, with a trace of almost invisible dark crimson at its core. The flame was small, barely an inch long, but the moment it appeared, the temperature in the bedchamber shot up. The Fire Coral by the window seemed to sense it, its branches rustling without wind.

He stared at the flame for a moment, then flicked his finger.

The flame flew out and landed on a corner of the desk.

No sound.

No explosion.

It just burned silently.

The jade desk melted like wax, collapsing into a hollow, with jade slurry dripping down the edges. Where it had burned, a charred black mark remained—so deep it was unsettling, as if it had absorbed the very light.

Taiyi walked over and touched the charred edge with his finger.

The sensation at his fingertip... strange. Not heat, not burning, but a hollow feeling—as if everything in that spot had been "erased," even its existence burned away.

He withdrew his hand and looked at his fingertip.

The Chaos True Sun Fire had extra destructive power against order-based laws.

It seemed it wasn't just breaking laws—it was destroying the "order" of material existence itself. Burning jade to ash was destruction; "erasing" jade was a deeper kind.

"This thing..." Taiyi murmured, "is a bit sinister."

code
[All forbidden powers are like this. Reminder: Use with caution to avoid backlash.]

"Got it, got it."

He waved his hand, and the flame at his fingertip went out. The temperature in the bedchamber slowly dropped, and the Fire Coral by the window fell still. The charred hole on the desk was glaringly obvious, like a scar.

Taiyi stared at the hole for a while, then suddenly laughed.

A helpless, self-mocking laugh.

"Eastern Emperor Taiyi, oh, Eastern Emperor Taiyi," he said quietly, "this body of yours really is a hot potato."

Just as he finished, footsteps sounded outside the door again.

This time, the steps were heavier, steadier. They walked to the door and stopped. Then came a knock—neither too light nor too heavy, three times.

"Taiyi."

It was Di Jun's voice.

Taiyi's heart tightened. He instinctively glanced at the hole on the desk. No time to clean it up now. He took a deep breath, straightened his robes, and went to open the door.

The door opened.

Di Jun stood outside, not wearing the elaborate imperial robes from court, just a simple dark-gold casual garment. His hair wasn't bound in a crown, either—it hung loose over his shoulders, making him look younger and more tired than usual. He carried a wooden food box in his hand, plain and unadorned.

"Elder Brother?" Taiyi stepped aside.

Di Jun walked in, his gaze sweeping across the bedchamber before naturally landing on the hole in the desk. He paused, said nothing, then walked over to the couch and sat down, placing the food box on the desk—deliberately avoiding the hole.

"I brought you some food." Di Jun opened the box, revealing several delicate pastries, fragrant and exquisite. "Xihe made them herself. She said you probably haven't been eating well these past few days."

Taiyi closed the door and came over to sit down.

He looked at the pastries in the box, and that complex feeling surged up again. In his memory, Di Jun often did this—stealing time to visit the Sun Palace, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just sitting. The two brothers wouldn't speak, just staring at the sea of clouds outside the window, able to sit for an entire day.

"Thanks, Sister-in-law." Taiyi picked up a pastry and took a bite.

Sweet, but not cloying, with a hint of osmanthus fragrance. It was Xihe's signature Osmanthus Cake—his favorite... no, this body's favorite.

Di Jun watched him eat for a long moment before speaking. "How's your injury?"

"Almost healed." Taiyi was vague. "Just still a bit unstable with my power. Need a few more days to recuperate."

"Good." Di Jun nodded, then paused. "That day at Lingxiao Palace... what you said—was it sincere?"

Here it comes.

Taiyi put down the pastry and wiped his hands. He knew he couldn't dodge this question. Di Jun wasn't Fei Lian, wasn't Bai Ze—he was his elder brother, the one in this world who knew Eastern Emperor Taiyi best. Fooling others was easy; fooling Di Jun was hard.

"Half and half." He chose to tell the truth, or at least a half-truth. "Wanting to fight the Witch Race is real, but it's not that urgent. I just... feel stifled."

Di Jun said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"Elder Brother, don't you find it stifling?" Taiyi raised his eyes to look at Di Jun. "We two brothers transformed from the Sun Star, fought our way step by step to today, established the Heavenly Court, and command the All-Encompassing Stars—which step wasn't carved out by bloodshed? But now? We have to watch the Witch Race's moods, mind the Queen Mother of the West's face, calculate this and that, living like a pair of bookkeepers."

He spoke a bit urgently, a bit rashly, as if he had truly been holding it in for a long time.

Di Jun listened quietly, his face showing no expression.

When Taiyi finished, he slowly spoke: "Taiyi, you are the Eastern Emperor, the pillar of the Heavenly Court. Your every word and action concerns the life and death of billions of demons. Some things are not simply a matter of doing what you want."

"I know." Taiyi lowered his eyes. "But I just... can't accept it."

"Can't accept what?"

"Can't accept being arranged, can't accept resigning to fate." Taiyi's voice was very low, yet carried a fierce edge. "The Heavenly Dao says the Witch-Demon Calamity is a fixed number, so we have to believe it? The Dao Ancestor says the Mandate of Heaven cannot be defied, so we have to submit? On what grounds?"

Di Jun fell silent.

He looked at his younger brother, his gaze deep, as if trying to see into his very bones. After a long while, he let out a sigh, the sound thick with exhaustion.

"Taiyi, you've changed."

Taiyi's heart suddenly jolted.

"The old you was wild and proud too, but not this..." Di Jun weighed his words, "...not this... awake. It's like you suddenly saw something clearly, and then rushed to smash it to pieces."

"Is that bad?"

"I don't know." Di Jun shook his head. "I only know that the path you're walking now is very dangerous. More dangerous than going to war with the Witch Race."

The bedchamber fell quiet.

Outside the window, the sky had fully darkened. The sea of clouds sank into the night, and in the distance, stars began to light up, one by two, gradually linking into a stretch. Starlight spilled through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

Taiyi said nothing.

Di Jun didn't press further.

The two brothers just sat there, facing the table full of pastries and that charred hole, neither moving. A subtle tension hung in the air, like a bowstring pulled taut—one more ounce and it would snap.

Finally, Di Jun stood up first.

"The third sermon at Purple Cloud Palace," he said. "You're coming with me."

It wasn't a discussion; it was a notice.

Taiyi nodded. "Alright."

"Rest well these next few days. Don't stir up trouble." Di Jun walked to the door, his hand resting on the panel. He paused, turned back to look at Taiyi, and said, "Taiyi, no matter what you see or what you plan to do—remember, I am your elder brother."

With that, he pulled open the door and walked out.

The door closed softly behind him.

Taiyi sat on the couch, staring at that door for a long, long time. Then he slowly raised his hand to cover his face, a suppressed sigh leaking through the gaps between his fingers.

"This acting..." he muttered to himself in self-mockery, "I've acted so well I almost believe it myself."

Outside the window, the starlight flickered.

Like countless eyes, watching quietly from the shadows.