Chapter 224: Li Zhouxuan

With the collapse of Sunyang Sect, the balance of power in Pusi Kingdom, once maintained by the three major sects and the imperial court, had shifted. Now, only two major sects remained. This shift was not good news for the court—nor for Li Zhouxuan himself. As an emperor, he sought stability, not drastic changes.

And it wasn't just internal threats he had to worry about—there were external dangers too. The mortal realm wasn't composed of Pusi Kingdom alone. Several neighboring countries, each as powerful as Pusi Kingdom, were waiting for a moment of weakness to strike. Behind each country stood one or more powerful cultivation sects.

In the so-called mortal realm, ordinary people were just struggling to survive, while low-level cultivators mingled among them, enjoying privileges that the cultivation world didn't offer. Almost all royal families originated from mortals who had gained the opportunity to cultivate. They established kingdoms in their territories and passed them down through generations.

But because their strength wasn't enough to compete with other kingdoms, they had to ally with nearby sects to maintain their power. Whether these sects would come to their aid in times of crisis was uncertain, but even the appearance of strength on paper was something they couldn't afford to lose.

This was the harsh reality they faced.

These mortal kingdoms had no support from the cultivation world. They lacked the resources to sustain a sect of their own, which meant they couldn't recruit disciples like the sects did. Consequently, royal families invested their limited resources in the most talented members, ensuring they could cultivate and become the family's pillars of strength.

At the same time, they selected the most capable royal member to govern the country. With the government under their control, they could stand toe-to-toe with the sects.

The sects themselves had little interest in ruling mortals. They were more fascinated by the god-like status they enjoyed among the common folk, who revered them as celestial beings. This dynamic allowed sects and kingdoms to coexist peacefully—at least as long as the balance of power remained intact.

But once that balance was broken, chaos would ensue. Human nature was fickle. What people believed in times of balance didn't necessarily hold true when the scales tipped.

With Sunyang Sect in disarray and the tripartite balance likely to collapse, this newly emerged sect represented a crucial opportunity for Li Zhouxuan. If this new sect had enough strength—perhaps not even too much, just enough to rival the remnants of Sunyang Sect—then the balance might not be completely destroyed.

So, after testing the waters with this new sect, his next step was to gauge its true strength. Clearly, this wasn't a task for a mere Qi Refining cultivator like Wei San.

With that thought, Li Zhouxuan glanced at Wei San and said, "You may leave."

Wei San immediately bowed and respectfully exited the room. After he left, Li Zhouxuan dismissed the eunuch standing by his side, then turned his attention back to the envelope labeled "For His Majesty's Eyes Only."

Expecting a letter inside, Li Zhouxuan was surprised to find a transmission talisman instead. Although his cultivation was only at the Qi Refining stage, and his exposure to cultivation tools was limited, the royal family did provide basic cultivation education. So he knew how to use the talisman.

As he activated it, an old, indifferent voice echoed in his mind—it was the voice of Liao Pantu, reluctantly fulfilling his duty:

"No time for now. Let's meet next year."

Since Liao's voice sounded the most aged, Liu Yunan and Sun Yigao had unanimously agreed that he should record the message. They figured it would give the emperor the impression that their sect, while new, had its share of elders.

For several moments after the voice faded, Li Zhouxuan remained stunned. His thoughts didn't even linger on the terse message or the cold tone—it was the sheer brevity that threw him off.

That's it?

A whole transmission talisman for just eight words?

He recalled his lessons: his elders had mentioned that talismans like this were expensive in the cultivation world, costing at least five to ten spirit stones each. Although the royal family had cultivators, they lacked a steady source of spirit stones and skilled craftsmen like talisman makers, array masters, alchemists, or smiths. As a result, such items were incredibly precious to them.

Even for the three major sects, these items weren't something to be used carelessly…

Eight words! Couldn't they have just written it on paper?

Why waste a talisman for just eight words? Wouldn't it have been better to give the talisman to him instead?

This new sect must be showing off their wealth, right? Right?

After a moment of internal frustration, Li Zhouxuan took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't afford to be petty with a newly rising sect. If they had the wealth to flaunt, it was a good sign—it meant they had strength.

With this thought, he rose, talisman in hand, and left the imperial study. He made his way through the palace, passing through gate after gate until he arrived at a grand and imposing hall. Standing before the empty entrance, he spoke loudly:

"Li Zhouxuan, thirty-fifth generation descendant of the Li family, requests an audience with the Ancestor."

——

Meanwhile, in the capital city.

Song Jusheng, who had been waiting in vain for any response to his letters, finally decided, after days of hesitation, to pack his things and return to Sunyang Sect to see what had happened.

However, before he had even left the city for two miles, he encountered a group of Sunyang Sect elders and many of the sect's core disciples, all hurrying toward the capital.

Seeing the disheveled state of his fellow sect members, with everyone's waists laden with storage pouches, Song Jusheng couldn't help but feel deeply puzzled.