Chapter 93: The Enigmatic Rebel of a Turbulent Nation — Lu Ping’an

Nan County, situated in the southern reaches of the Great Zhou Dynasty, boasts a privileged geographical position and nurtures a land rich in talent and natural beauty, renowned for producing exceptional scholars and beauties alike. The Tang family, the foremost aristocratic clan of Nan County, holds dominion over the entire region and commands immense wealth. As one of the most prosperous territories, Nan County under the Tang's stewardship rivals the riches of entire states.

Tang Xiansheng, head of the Tang lineage and governor of Nan County, symbolically raised his banner of rebellion. Yet unlike the fiercely aggressive uprisings in the western and northern counties, Nan County exhibited a certain lethargy and detachment. The Tang family, aloof and inscrutable, observed the chaotic tides engulfing Great Zhou from a distance, seemingly indifferent to the turbulent struggle for supremacy — rendering Nan County almost invisible amid the upheaval.

...

Within Nanjiang City, at the Tang estate, a heavy scent of blood spread like ink dropped into clear water, suffusing the entire manor. Servants cowered in fear, maidservants screamed piercingly. The once peaceful Tang residence was shattered in an instant.

The second scion of the Tang family lay dead, submerged in a pool of blood that darkened and spread relentlessly, staining every face with horror.

Tang Yimo sat on the floor, eyes wide with terror as he stared at his bloodied hands, his body trembling involuntarily. He had done the unthinkable — he had slain a man.

The second son, Tang Baichen, a first-rate martial artist, was killed by his own kin's hand.

Though Tang Baichen's name was gentle and refined, he was in truth a villainous scoundrel who terrorized Nanjiang, a debauched wastrel whose depravity knew no bounds. Whomever he desired, he would seize by any means and drag to his bed. Countless families were shattered and ruined by his hands.

Furthermore, he took cruel pleasure in tormenting Tang Yimo. Though Yimo had resisted before, his second-tier martial skill was no match for Baichen's prowess. Time and again, he suffered brutal beatings, barely escaping death. Were it not for Yimo's status as the governor's illegitimate son, Baichen would have slain him long ago.

Despised like a vermin, Yimo was the object of Baichen's utter loathing.

This time, Baichen set his sights on Yimo's younger sister. When Yimo discovered Baichen's assault, he no longer fled. He stood his ground, slaughtered Baichen's minions, and engaged in a deadly duel with Baichen himself. At the critical moment, he shattered the first meridian and with a violent strike pierced Baichen's heart.

A low, chilling laugh escaped Yimo's lips. The celestial teachings had not deceived him; the cultivation method he received truly granted him the power to protect his loved ones.

Tears streamed down Yimo's face. Perhaps this was the last time he could shield his sister and mother.

Having slain Baichen, escape from the Tang estate was impossible. Baichen's mother, the second matron, would never forgive him.

Indeed, when news of Baichen's death spread, the Tang guards swarmed the estate. The second matron, adorned in sumptuous robes but pale and trembling with terror, arrived with fury.

"Seize this wretch! I shall flay him alive, piece by piece, to avenge my son Baichen!"

Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wailed pitifully. Baichen was her son, the foundation of her power within the Tang household — and yet, he was dead, slain by this bastard's hand!

The guards advanced, some martial masters unleashing fierce auras. Yimo staggered to his feet, his gaze unwavering.

"Capture the wretch and his vile mother and sister!" the matron screamed incessantly.

Yimo's eyes darkened, a beastly growl erupting from his throat as ranks of soldiers surged forward.

"To grow strong is to protect what one cherishes. May your original resolve remain steadfast."

The immortal's words echoed in Yimo's mind as his eyes flared crimson. Blood mist seeped from his skin as he shattered his first meridian anew — overwhelming power surged through his limbs, threatening to tear his body apart.

The Eight Meridian Escape Demon Technique, the celestial legacy bestowed upon him — an immortal's self-sacrifice for power, to protect what must be guarded. Protection inevitably entails slaughter.

The Tang estate descended into chaos, the scent of blood suffusing every corner.

When Tang Xiansheng returned, he was greeted by a horrendous stench of blood. Entering the estate, he beheld corpses strewn everywhere — and at the center knelt a bloodied figure, his hair matted with blood dripping onto the floor.

Shock flashed across Tang Xiansheng's face. Tang Yimo, the illegitimate son he had long neglected, had slain hundreds of elite soldiers and even master-level guards.

His eyes gleamed with sudden clarity.

Celestial fate. Cultivator.

These words surged through his mind. The world of Great Zhou was abuzz with talk of cultivators — the Northern Luo heir, the Western Liang Overlord, the Wolong Ridge Immortal Palace. The arrival of cultivators was reshaping the balance of power.

Tang Xiansheng had once agonized over how to control these cultivators. Now, to his astonishment, one had appeared in his own family — his very own son.

Step by step, he waded through the bloodied waters until he reached the gasping, blood-soaked Yimo. Squinting, his gaze flickered — then softened into boundless tenderness.

"My child, you have suffered."

His trembling hand reached out to brush the bloodied cheek of Tang Yimo.

...

In Northern Luo City, the six imperial steeds entered the city as Lu Changkong led elite troops to greet them. It was Yu Wenxiu's first visit here, having often heard rumors but never come personally.

"Welcome, Your Majesty," Lu Changkong said, kneeling on one knee.

Yu Wenxiu quickly helped him up. "Minister Lu, no need for such formalities. I come to Northern Luo seeking answers..."

"I have heard your son, Lu Ping'an, has received celestial fate and saved Northern Luo from peril. Today, amidst wind and rain, I come personally to seek a strategy to break the stalemate — a plan even the national advisor bestowed upon me," Yu Wenxiu said, hope flickering on his youthful face.

The young emperor had borne tremendous burdens of late. Now, interpreting the national advisor's meaning, he clung to this hope as a last straw.

Lu Changkong sighed, clasping his hands. "Your Majesty..."

"Ping'er is in seclusion, refusing all visitors..." Yu Wenxiu paused, then urged anxiously, "I come with utmost sincerity..."

"Bold words! How could a subject refuse an emperor's personal visit?" a master-level martial warrior standing beside Yu Wenxiu growled fiercely.

The old eunuch's face darkened; flicking his dust whisk, he struck the warrior sharply. "Silence!"

The warrior grudgingly fell silent.

"Lord Lu, the emperor's personal visit signifies sincerity. Could you at least deliver a message to the young master on Heartlake Isle, telling him the emperor awaits him outside the island?" the old eunuch implored, fully aware of the mysterious and unpredictable Lu heir hidden there.

Yu Wenxiu glanced at the old eunuch in surprise. This elder was his trusted retainer — a seventh-rank master whose strength matched even Jiang Li, yet now appeared unusually deferential.

Lu Changkong shook his head helplessly. "Sir, upon receiving word of Your Majesty's visit, I already entered Heartlake Isle once. My son truly is in seclusion."

"Ping'er suffers from a childhood leg ailment and a difficult temperament. If we disturb his seclusion, it may provoke serious consequences," Lu Changkong explained candidly.

Yu Wenxiu paced anxiously, then looked up at Lu Changkong. "Minister, I will wait in Northern Luo until Lu Ping'an emerges."

With this decision, the old eunuch remained impassive, but the accompanying master warriors and generals were aghast. The imperial capital was in turmoil, officials scrambling with petitions, yet the emperor was stationed in Northern Luo, awaiting a seemingly enigmatic Lu heir.

The news sent shockwaves through the court.

"Your Majesty, this must not be!" one general knelt, pleading.

"Northern Luo is untenable! If rebels from Nan County march here and besiege Your Majesty, it will be the ruin of Great Zhou!" He had opposed the emperor's journey from the start, but now dared not defy his sovereign.

"This is surely a ploy of Kong Xiu!" the general cried, nearly in tears.

The old eunuch remained stoic, while Yu Wenxiu's expression darkened.

Lu Changkong observed silently, inwardly sighing. Mo Beike's maneuver had truly cornered Great Zhou, splitting the national advisor and Jiang Li from the imperial ministers.

"My decision requires no interference," Yu Wenxiu declared coldly. "I am resolved to await Lu Ping'an's emergence."

With a flick of his sleeve, he entered his carriage, his voice icy.

He harbored a secret — like Lu Ping'an, he too was blessed with celestial fate. Thus, he chose to trust once more, to wait once more.

Lu Changkong bowed deeply and accompanied Yu Wenxiu to the shores of Northern Luo Lake, but they did not take the boat to the island.

Days passed into nights, and the atmosphere at Northern Luo's lakefront grew heavier.

News of the emperor's vigil at the lake reached the capital, igniting uproar and plunging the imperial city into turmoil.

Mo Beike's covert agents spread rumors:

"The emperor's visit to Northern Luo is a trap set by Kong Xiu; his departure from the capital portends the realm's doom!"

"The young emperor is bewitched by Lu Ping'an's sorcery — a demon destabilizing the nation!"

The capital boiled like a cauldron of boiling water.

Ministers wailed, petitions flew like feathers. Some self-styled righteous officials donned dim starry cloaks and hastened to Northern Luo.

Lu Changkong allowed them entry without objection.

At the lakefront, ministers knelt outside the emperor's carriage, weeping bitterly, urging the emperor to resist the demon's enchantment, to return to the capital and summon Jiang Li for judgment.

Inside, the emperor remained motionless.

As dawn's first light stretched over the water, the silhouette of a lone figure appeared on the horizon — a young man walking steadily toward the palace docks.

It was Lu Ping'an.

His simple robe fluttered in the breeze. Eyes deep as midnight, carrying the weight of countless secrets.

The rebel had finally arrived.