The Crown Prince Descends

Jiang Chen forced his breathing to steady, suppressing the fury churning within. The revelation that Wu Shu had orchestrated the massacre of his clan left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet he knew better than to act on impulse. Patience was key—patience, and a clear mind.

The masked man broke the silence at last. "You've heard enough, Jiang Chen. But there's more to this tale than you realize."

"Oh?" Jiang Chen's voice was low.

The masked figure nodded. "Wu Shu isn't just a powerful heir. He is the current Crown Prince of the Wu Imperial Clan."

Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "And?"

The masked man paused before continuing. "Neither Wu Shu nor his father, Emperor Wu Cheng, holds firm standing in court anymore. The old case from a thousand years ago—the exile of your ancestor Wu Jiang—has resurfaced. Many clan elders are using it to challenge the emperor's authority. Some have even begun to speak in favor of reinstating the Jiang bloodline."

Jiang Chen's jaw tightened. "So… they acknowledge the truth now, but only because it suits their purposes. Not because they believe it."

The masked man gave a faint nod. "Politics seldom deal in belief. Only advantage."

His tone sharpened. "But you must understand—Wu Shu's hatred goes deeper than any political dispute. It was his father, Emperor Wu Cheng, who engineered the downfall of Wu Jiang. The Jiang Clan was born from that exile… and now, it seems, he wishes to erase that mistake by snuffing it out completely."

A chill ran down Jiang Chen's spine. He had long suspected this, but to hear it confirmed was something else entirely. His thirst for vengeance was no longer just for his parents and kin. It was a matter of justice—for an entire lineage wronged and forgotten.

"But why now?" he muttered. "Why does Wu Shu still see the Jiang Clan as a threat? We've been in exile for a thousand years. Even if we return, what power do we have to challenge the Imperial Clan?"

The masked man hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know. But it may not matter. What matters is this: Wu Shu believes you are a threat. That belief alone is dangerous."

Jiang Chen remained silent, absorbing every word.

"Enough talk," the masked man said at last. "Your presence here is no coincidence. Wu Shu plans to use Su Jen to lure you into a trap. Once isolated, they'll strike—and this time, they won't fail."

Jiang Chen's heart sank. Su Jen had risked everything to shelter him after the previous assassination attempt. Now she was being used as bait.

"I won't let them harm her."

The masked man gave a dark chuckle. "They're counting on that. Your loyalty makes you predictable. But perhaps… that predictability can be turned into a weapon."

Jiang Chen looked up. "How?"

"Strike before they do," the masked figure said, voice low. "But tread carefully. One wrong step, and both you and Su Jen will perish."

Before Jiang Chen could ask further, the ground beneath them trembled. A faint hum filled the air—the concealment formation was activating.

"They're coming," the masked man warned. "Choose wisely. Your next move will shape not only your path—but the fate of your entire legacy."

With that, he melted into the shadows, leaving Jiang Chen alone amidst the swirling light.

---

High above, Wu Shu hovered in midair, robes fluttering in the wind. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes gleamed with cold light.

"Are you certain this plan will succeed?" he asked, voice calm. "Jiang Chen isn't an ordinary cultivator."

Mie Lin stood beside him, arms folded. "Ordinary or not, he's still only at the early Nascent Soul stage. Against two Nascent Soul experts—one of them you—he has no chance. And if he truly cares for Su Jen, he'll walk straight into our hands."

Wu Shu gave a thin smile. "I've waited long enough to end this."

Two days later.

Mist clung to the valley floor. On a high ridge, a veiled woman stood—her black robes billowing gently.

Mie Lin.

"So," she called out softly, "you came after all."

Jiang Chen stepped from the shadows, calm and poised.

"I assume you didn't call me here just to talk."

She smiled faintly and walked forward.

"No point in pretending, is there? You know why I'm here. That little friend of yours—Su Jen—means quite a bit to you, doesn't she?"

Jiang Chen didn't answer, but his fingers shifted slightly toward his sword.

A shimmer lit the air. A figure appeared, bound in chains of dark qi—Su Jen. Her face was pale, but her eyes still burned with defiance.

"Jiang Chen!" she called out weakly. "Don't—don't come any closer!"

His heart clenched, but he didn't move.

This was what they wanted: for him to charge in without thinking.

"Su Jen, hold on. I'm here," he said softly, then turned his gaze on Mie Lin.

"You got what you wanted. Now let her go."

Above, Wu Shu watched it all unfold, lips curling into a smirk.

"Just as expected. Predictable to the end."

With a low hum, the formation around the mountain came to life. Light surged into the sky, sealing the area completely.

"You've come far," Mie Lin smirked coldly, "But this is where it ends."

Jiang Chen didn't respond.

Instead, in a flash of blue light, his figure vanished—

And reappeared beside her.

Boom!

His palm struck her chest with thunderous force. The air cracked. Mie Lin flew backward, crashing through a grove of ancient trees.

"Su Jen!"

Jiang Chen was already by her side, He moved like lightning, shattering the chains that bound her with a single, precise strike. 

She staggered, staring at him in disbelief.

"How…? How did you—?"

Jiang Chen's expression darkened.

"No time."

A shadow fell over them.

High above, a massive palm descended from the heavens, wreathed in imperial light.

Jiang Chen looked up.

Wu Shu had made his move.

Without hesitation, Jiang Chen spun around. Summoning the last of his strength, he thrust both palms forward—golden flames roared out, forming a blazing wall between him and the incoming attack.

The collision was deafening. A thunderous boom shook the sky as flame clashed with ice, followed by a blinding flash of light.

The shockwave hurled Jiang Chen backward, his boots carving deep grooves into the earth as he skidded dozens of meters. His arms trembled violently from the impact, but he managed to stay standing. The ice palm had been partially melted—his flames had held, just barely.

"So, you survived....Impressive… for someone like you."