The eighth year of Jingning, the ninth day of the ninth month.
On the double ninth, when sun and moon aligned in yang and yang energy reached its yearly peak, Luojing lay beneath a pall of darkness as a torrential rain began to fall.
Three thousand palace halls stood shrouded in rain and mist. The entire city was silent, and thousands of palace servants wore expressions of grief.
Outside Purple Chen Hall, several imperial physicians, palace servants, and accomplished masters of Daoism and Buddhism awaited their summons. Cao Fo'er stood at the entrance, a horsetail whisk in hand.
Clad in a kasaya, Monk Wuxin stood quietly in the rain, leaning on his monk's staff and turning his prayer beads as he silently recited Buddhist incantations.
Behind him were masters of the Various Sects, and even priests from Northern Zhou, all summoned to treat the emperor of Great Qian, whose oil had run dry and whose lamp was dying.
But wounds and illnesses were easily treated; an allotted lifespan was not.
None of them were gods or Buddhas. Without acts that defied the Way and overturned moral order, how could they bring back the dead or prolong a life?
Lu Wuzhen wore a black-and-white Daoist robe. For the first time, his still-middle-aged face bore the weariness and helplessness of a hundred-year-old man nearing his end.
The masters of the Various Sects present did not know the truth about Emperor Qian, but as the director charged with keeping Great Qian's demons and evils in check, he knew it all too well.
Twenty years ago, Emperor Qian's body had already become incapable of completing its heavenly cycle. Imperial Father-in-Law He had kept him alive until now by plundering the lifespans of others.
After the He Household's crimes came to light, there must still