The Heir Apparent

After a night of swirling snowfall, Yujing City was white from top to bottom, truly like the White Jade Capital in the heavens.

Dream Immortal Tower was one of Yujing City's largest restaurants.

It consisted of a five-story main building and four four-story side buildings.

Layer upon layer of upturned eaves created a precipitous grandeur. More than sixty meters tall, the tower soared like a sharp sword thrust straight into the clouds.

The lingering notes of silk and bamboo, melodious singing, and boisterous laughter mingled together. This was a place where human splendor gathered.

The restaurant's guests were either wealthy or noble; ordinary commoners could only gaze at it from afar and shrink away.

Ordinary families and the rich lived in the same Yujing City, yet they were like inhabitants of two different worlds.

The tables on the third floor were spaced far apart, with flowers and plants dividing them. It was neither desolate nor lacking in tranquility, truly an ingenious design.

At one table sat six elderly men, each dressed in brocade robes and jade belts, radiating wealth and refinement as they drank and talked loudly.

"Old Lu, did you hear the thunder yesterday?"

"I'm not deaf. It startled me awake outright. Scared the life out of me."

"Hehe, then do you know why the thunder was so loud?"

"I was wondering about that too. Yesterday it snowed, not rained. Where would such loud thunder come from in the dead of winter? Could there have been some unjust case?"

"Haha..."

"What's so funny?"

"Old Lu, Old Lu, you really haven't seen enough of the world."

"Quit babbling and tell me!"

"Another Grandmaster has emerged!"

"Hm—?"

"Enough, Old Huang. Old Lu hasn't been here long, so it's no wonder he doesn't know. The Flying Flower Sword Sect produced a Grandmaster, right?"

"Yes, Song Feiqiong of the Flying Flower Sword Sect."

"A woman?"

"She is Great Jing's third female Grandmaster... When Song Feiqiong first became famous, none of you had even entered the capital yet. She made a stunning appearance, then scarcely anyone heard of her again. Who would have thought that after lying dormant for decades, she would make a single cry and astonish the world, actually attaining Grandmasterhood!"

"Old Huang, how old is this Grandmaster Song?"

"The same age as me."

"Fifty-nine?"

"Yes."

"A Grandmaster... The Flying Flower Sword Sect has truly stumbled upon extraordinary fortune!"

"When one person attains the Dao, even chickens and dogs ascend to heaven. With a Grandmaster, disciples of the Flying Flower Sword Sect can enter the Imperial Court to serve, even join the Town Martial Division."

"That is the dream of countless sects."

"Once they enter the Imperial Court, they have chances to earn merit. Merits can be exchanged for Miraculous Pills and Elixirs, along with all kinds of rare treasures. This third-rate sect, the Flying Flower Sword Sect, can leap in a single bound into the first rank. It truly makes people green with envy!"

"Who told Grandmasterhood to be so difficult to attain? Our Great Jing Dynasty has only eighteen Grandmasters, and every one of them is precious beyond measure!"

"There is another major matter. Have you heard that Prince Qing's Estate has been unsealed?"

"Prince Qing's Estate...?"

Everyone at the table shook their heads blankly.

They had not even heard of Prince Qing.

"Prince Qing is the Third Prince. Thirty years ago, he was convicted of a crime, and his estate was sealed so no one could enter or leave."

"I remember now! Thirty years ago... the Second Prince, Prince Jing, was placed under house arrest. The Third Prince, Prince Qing, pleaded for him, enraging His Majesty, who issued an edict to seal Prince Qing's Estate. Is that right?"

"If you aren't an old Yujing native, you simply won't know about Prince Jing and Prince Qing. Ancient history!"

"This Prince Qing was unfortunate too. He cared deeply for his brother, so what was wrong with pleading for him? Yet he was implicated by the emperor's wrath, and his estate was sealed."

"Prince Qing... when all is said and done, Prince Qing himself was no good. His constitution was weak and he couldn't practice martial arts, so His Majesty did not favor him. No one else dared plead for Prince Jing, yet he did, and so he became the chicken killed to warn the monkeys."

"His Majesty is worthy of being the foremost emperor in Great Jing's history. His aptitude is peerless, and he places particular importance on cultivation. It is no surprise that Prince Qing was not favored."

"Unable to practice martial arts... This Prince Qing is rather pitiful."

"The imperial family is the most heartless of all. If one cannot practice martial arts, it would be fine if the emperor pitied the weak. Without the emperor's favor, life must be difficult."

"No matter how difficult it is, he is still a prince."

"A prince merely eats and dresses a little better. He still has the seven emotions and six desires, greed, anger, delusion, and hatred. With so many brothers, there must be plenty of fawning over the high and trampling on the low."

"I heard this Prince Qing is quite a good man."

"In this world, without good martial arts, being a good person is seeking death!"

"Yes... In this world, one truly cannot do without practicing martial arts."

"Whether Prince Qing's Estate is unsealed or not makes no difference. It is destined to decline."

"Prince Qing's Estate is indeed finished."

At a table by the south window sat three people. A young man in purple robes held a wine cup, lost in thought.

The morning sunlight fell upon the window paper, illuminating his handsome face.

His nose was like a hanging gallbladder, his lips like vermilion freshly applied. His eyes, cold as stars, gleamed as he thought, while his bearing was calm and profound.

To his left sat a brawny man, like a crouching black bear.

To his right sat an old man with a fair, beardless face, clean and feminine.

"Damn it..." The brawny man sprang to his feet, pointed toward that table, and was about to curse them out.

The young man in purple waved a hand.

"..." The brawny man swallowed his words by force, glared resentfully at the old men's table, and sat back down hard.

The old men at that table continued their loud discussion, unaware of the disturbance here.

The feminine old man had black, glossy hair, while his skin was lustrously white with a faint treasure-like sheen flowing over it. He said softly, "Young Master, take such marketplace chatter as nothing more than insects chirping."

The young man in purple shook his head, set down his wine cup, and rose to leave.

The feminine old man picked up the sable fur coat and cloak and followed.

"Young Master, are you not eating anymore?"

The brawny man looked at the table full of delicacies with a regretful expression before heading out. As he descended the stairs, he once more glared fiercely at the old men still chattering away.

If they were still in the military, they could not eat such a tableful of dishes whenever they wished. All of it was being wasted because of these old fools!

The young man in purple arrived at the entrance of Dream Immortal Tower. Before the cold wind outside could reach him, the feminine old man put a fur hat on him, wrapped him in a sable fur coat, and tied on a red cloak.

His movements were elegant yet incomparably swift.

The young man in purple let him bustle about, gazing at the sky with emotion.

A golden sun slanted down from above. Its boundless rays turned the thick snow upon every rooftop gold, beautiful beyond compare.

The street bustled with people and traffic.

The cries of merchants from shops and stalls rang out without cease.

Every passing pedestrian wore a saber at the waist or a sword at the side, spirited and imposing as they laughed and talked loudly.

City Guard soldiers in black robes moved through the crowd in groups of three, patrolling and inspecting.

What a picture of a flourishing age.

His Majesty had reigned for fifty years, governing diligently and striving to make the nation strong. The Great Jing Dynasty was now in an age where flowers bloomed atop brocade, where the country was prosperous and the people at peace.

He withdrew his gaze, stepped out of Dream Immortal Tower, and slowly merged into the bustling crowd amid the waiter's respectful farewell.

Four young men in fitted brown clothes gathered around him from nearby. Invisible force billowed from their garments, pushing away approaching passersby as though using Sticky Clothes Eighteen Falls, creating an independent space.

With his hands behind his back, he walked slowly, neither hurried nor delayed, leisurely and composed. His pace was utterly different from the flow of the bustling crowd around him.

His snow-white sable coat had not a single stray hair. The jade pendant at his waist was emerald green and crystalline, while the white jade set in his fur hat seemed as though it had been soaked in water. Noble splendor suffused him from head to toe, as if a white jade tree stood in the wind.

"Young Master, if you ask me, we should have taught them a lesson. Those loose-tongued fools need a good beating. Is our Prince someone they can slander as they please?!"

Guo Chi, the captain of the guards, was still muttering indignantly.

The young man in purple, Chu Zhiyuan, looked solemn, while the lake of his heart lay calm and without a ripple.

The memories of his previous life were like drifting clouds. In this life, he was the Heir Apparent of Prince Qing, the Third Prince.

No matter how impoverished Prince Qing's Estate had become, it could still grant him fine clothes, rich food, and a life of wealth. He no longer had the anxiety and haste of his previous life, so his state of mind was entirely different.

This state of mind allowed him to remain calm and unhurried amid splendor and clamor, leisurely at ease as though strolling through an empty courtyard, utterly out of place with the haste around him.

With a slight focus of his mind, his five senses immediately opened.

In an instant, flood-like information surged into his mind. Everything within a radius of twenty zhang came under his grasp.

Pedestrians streamed past like woven threads.

Every passerby's appearance and clothing, speech and mannerisms, gait and subtle expressions; every passerby's voice, breathing, heartbeat, even the sound of blood flowing; the scent of every person's clothing and hair; every passerby's skin elasticity and the strength of their tendons and bones; the flow of every person's internal energy and its faint glow—all appeared clearly within his perception.

In the tavern by the street, drinkers laughed and chatted freely while waiters and the proprietor worked without rest.

The drinkers' voices and laughter, the sounds of hands slapping tables, wine going down throats, chewing mouths, rumbling stomachs, chairs scraping, and footsteps—all entered his ears.

The fragrance of fine wine in jars and cups, along with the aromas of food and dishes, entered his mouth and nose.

The smooth solidity of the tables, the coldness of wine cups and liquor, the thickness and softness of clothing, even the elasticity of skin, surged into his palms.

In the rouge shop beside the tavern, the proprietor prattled on endlessly while a waiter used a feather duster to sweep the boxes of rouge on the shelves.

Deep within an alley, two red-clad martial wanderers lay on their sides at the foot of a wall, sleeping soundly and snoring away.

A wonton stall was shrouded in steaming vapor, the fragrance of meat overflowing everywhere.

Beside it was a fried pancake stall, its aroma rolling forth in waves.

More than twenty people sat around low tables, heads lowered as they hurriedly ate, in a state entirely different from the diners in the restaurant next door.

All kinds of dust and particles drifted through the air, along with all kinds of light, hundreds of scents, breezes from every direction, and countless different sounds.

Within twenty zhang, he saw everything, heard everything, smelled everything, touched everything, sensed everything.

This godlike sensation intoxicated him, yet it also made his mentality unconsciously rise high above the masses, like a deity looking down upon all living beings.

But he clearly knew that such a mentality was inappropriate.

Within twenty zhang, he could perceive the smallest details and understand matters with divine clarity, but that was all. It could not allow him to command the birth and death of everything within those twenty zhang.

This godlike state of mind intertwined with his clear understanding, making him extraordinarily calm as he looked coldly upon the world of men.

Of the forty-six pedestrians, thirty-three possessed full vigor of essence, energy, and spirit. They were martial artists. Of those thirty-three martial artists, eighteen practiced swordsmanship and fifteen practiced saber techniques.

This was a High Martial World, where everyone was like a dragon.

Among those thirty-three, two were cloaked in a layer of radiance. They had entered the Innate Realm.

They were capable of killing him, someone at Perfected Houtian.

Of course, he alone could see that layer of radiance.

More importantly, these two Xiantian Masters had been using secret arts to conceal their auras as they followed him.

Ever since the estate had been unsealed three days ago, he had gone out every day. They had begun following him on the second day, yet the guards had not noticed them.

We are about to enter a new world again. Esteemed readers, please board the ship.