Chapter 98: The Young Master Lu Departs Beiluo

The crescent moon hung high in the night sky like a silver hook. Within the jade-white pavilions of the capital, candlelight filtered through delicate lanterns, casting a gentle radiance that illuminated the chamber's interior. Lu Fan sat poised in his wheelchair, draped in a white cloak. By his side, Ning Zhao, Yi Yue, and Nie Changqing stood silently, their expressions solemn. Ni Yu clutched a cloth pouch tightly, hesitating to retrieve a pill for fear that the faint crunching sound might shatter the oppressive stillness.

Ning Zhao's face was as cold as frost. She had read the imperial edict—a document utterly denigrating Lu Fan, stripping him of all honor, replete with scornful insults. "Young Master…" Ning Zhao began tentatively. Lu Fan gently waved her silence.

"The Emperor himself approaches Beiluo," Lu Fan murmured, his voice echoing softly through the jade pavilion. "I once vowed to aid His Majesty in deeds he dares not undertake..." He leaned against the wheelchair, one hand resting lightly on the armrest, tapping rhythmically. "It's time to journey to the imperial capital."

"Old Nie, Sister Ning, Yi Yue... prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, accompany me to the capital."

"Though I am of temperate nature, the world lacks the reverence due to cultivators," Lu Fan said calmly.

Ning Zhao nodded slightly; Old Nie's gaze hardened. It was easy to foresee the upheaval that would descend upon the capital with the arrival of the Young Master of Beiluo.

"Old Nie," Lu Fan continued, "you once told me your wife, Xiao Shuang's mother, is imprisoned within the Dao Sect. Once matters in the capital are settled, you shall go retrieve her."

"In the name of the Jade Capital," he added softly.

Nie Changqing shuddered, lips trembling before releasing a heavy sigh fraught with complex emotion.

"Thank you, Young Master."

Lu Fan nodded once more and dismissed them.

The former Chicheng, the Great Zhou elite military camp.

Jiang Li stared intently at the war map within the grand tent. Beside him, Chi Lian stood gracefully clad in a black dress, while several deputy generals examined the board, scrutinizing the shifting tides of battle.

"His Majesty returned to the capital alone. So, he was ultimately unable to summon Lu Ping'an?" Jiang Li sighed deeply after hearing the report.

He reached out, lightly tapping the position marked Beiluo on the map. At present, the greatest variable in the Great Zhou's affairs lay in Beiluo.

"Mobei Ke and Dantai Xuan have allied. With Mobei Ke's methods, he would never allow this variable to persist unchecked. In other words… Mobei Ke has made a move against Beiluo City. That night's assault—I believed the assailant would be the Yin-Yang disciple Wei Luan, but it was not so… perhaps Wei Luan went to Beiluo instead."

Chi Lian's expression was filled with shock. Wei Luan of the Yin-Yang sect? A figure of the highest caliber. Had Wei Luan truly appeared at Zuilong City that night, Jiang Li would surely have met his doom, and the city would have fallen utterly.

"However, judging by current circumstances, Wei Luan… is likely dead."

Jiang Li's fingers traced the map gently. "Killed by the Young Master of Beiluo."

"Thus, Mobei Ke fears Lu Ping'an greatly. If His Majesty could rally Lu Ping'an, the capital's situation would be secure, for Mobei Ke cannot predict Lu Ping'an's methods, and dares neither rash action nor gamble."

The tent was silent, others dared not breathe as Jiang Li muttered to himself.

Suddenly, Jiang Li turned to Chi Lian.

"How fares Qingniao?"

Chi Lian bowed respectfully.

"The bloodiness of war requires her to adapt. My lord need not worry—she has stabilized."

Jiang Li nodded, eyes cast toward the hooked moon outside the tent, emotions tangled within his gaze.

Since Lu Ping'an had yet to leave Beiluo, what awaited next was the tempestuous onslaught of Mobei Ke and Dantai Xuan.

In the silent night, the thunder of hooves shattered the stillness. Outside the barracks, the pounding echoed like rolling thunder, a suffocating cloud approaching relentlessly.

"Report!"

"An imperial edict has arrived!"

Thirty miles beyond the former Chicheng.

"What a fool that He Shou truly is!" Mobei Ke's subordinate, Mo Ju, sneered grimly after reading the edict. Mobei Ke himself closed his eyes slowly, wrinkles twitching as he struggled to conceal his turmoil.

"The aristocrats within the capital suffered crushing oppression under Yuwen Tuo's reign. Now, grasping an opportunity, they dare to rebel. Yet… all are but fools."

"This edict may raise He Shou's name, but has he considered the consequences it will bring?"

Mobei Ke shook his head, sighing deeply.

One fears not a godlike enemy, but a foolish ally.

Though this edict coerced the Emperor, it also risks provoking Lu Ping'an, who did not accompany the Emperor to the capital.

Mo Ju, infuriated, crushed the edict into a ball and hurled it to the ground.

"Lu Ping'an of Beiluo possesses an iron will. Once this edict is known, the tragic plight of Beiluo's noble houses will soon unfold in the capital."

"The Emperor may hesitate to act against the capital's nobility, but what will Lu Ping'an care for?"

Mo Ju's fan flailed violently, his face flushing with rage.

Seated on his high throne, Dantai Xuan finally spoke.

"Great One, what is our next course?"

Mobei Ke's aged visage twitched beneath heavy eye bags.

"Wait."

An iron cavalry rode from the west, advancing north toward the capital.

The Xiliang Iron Cavalry, the Great Zhou's most formidable force, once rivaled Jiang Li's command, but with Jiang Li now governing Zuilong City, that mighty army was but a fading memory.

Xiang Shaoyun, clad entirely in black armor and without helmet, bore a shield and halberd. Mounted upon a towering black steed, the dark armor and horse melded into a specter of night's fury. In his hand, he held an imperial edict, which he tore to shreds after a cursory glance.

"The author of this edict is a foolish dog."

The generals exchanged glances. When the commander speaks, all listen.

Moonlight cast an icy gleam upon Xiang Shaoyun's black armor, exuding chilling authority.

He pulled the reins and summoned a trusted master general.

"Xu Chu, don my black armor and lead the army to the former Chicheng. Station five hundred li outside the city. Do not engage the Beijun forces—maintain a standoff."

Xu Chu, a burly warrior bearing twin spiked iron balls, blinked in surprise.

"My lord, what is your intent?"

A smile flickered across Xiang Shaoyun's face as he gazed toward Beiluo City.

"A rare visit is due. This governor must pay respects to the world's foremost cultivator—the Young Master of Beiluo."

Beneath Xu Chu's armor, his muscles tensed; excitement shimmered in his eyes. A governor's visit was no ordinary affair.

At dawn the following day.

As the first rays of sunlight kissed Beiluo's cobblestone streets, the heavy city gates creaked open.

A luxurious carriage emerged from within the city. The curtain at its window was drawn back, revealing Lu Fan's composed visage.

"Fan'er, return swiftly," Lu Changkong said, clad in armor, speaking to Lu Fan inside the carriage.

He commanded Luo Cheng to lead five hundred elite soldiers to accompany Lu Fan to the capital. Though Lu Fan initially refused, Lu Changkong insisted, and Lu Fan did not object.

As Lu Fan's entourage departed Beiluo, spies from myriad factions lurking beyond the city sprang to alertness, flapping like startled birds.

One after another, carrier pigeons were dispatched into the night.

Just as Lu Fan's convoy set forth toward the capital, a carriage thundered across the Beiluo Plain, kicking up dust before arriving outside the city.

Lu Fan drew back the carriage curtain and gazed at the approaching vehicle.

The opposite carriage curtain parted, revealing an elderly man wearing a broad merchant's smile and a massive gold chain around his neck.

Lü Mu followed closely, his expression conflicted.

"Lü Dongxuan of the Tianji clan, here to pay respects to Young Master Lu."

The elder alighted and bowed deeply toward Lu Fan's carriage.

Those nearby bore strange expressions.

Ning Zhao pushed Lu Fan's wheelchair down from the carriage.

"Tianji clan?"

Lu Fan regarded Lü Dongxuan coolly, eyes shifting to the gleaming gold chain of interlinked beads around the elder's neck.

Suddenly, the golden beads began to rotate subtly, and Lü Dongxuan's face paled, eyes wide with alarm.

Lu Fan arched an eyebrow; though Lü Dongxuan's chain was not a spiritual chessboard, it possessed a certain sentience.

Presumably, Lü Dongxuan employed this chain in his calculations.

Lu Fan said calmly, "Old Nie, Sister Ning, Yi Yue... accompany me to the capital again. Handle matters as before."

"Understood."

Nie Changqing and the others bowed.

"Xiao Ni, take the Young Master back to the island."

Then Lu Fan glanced at Lü Dongxuan and Lü Mu, nodding faintly.

Compared to dealing with minor intrigues in the capital, assimilating the Tianji clan was far more imperative.

Outside Beiluo City, spies from various powers were dumbfounded to witness the Young Master returning to the city.

The news had been sent out—yet Lu Fan had returned?

Frantically, the spies penned new secret letters, hastily attaching them to carrier pigeons, stirring another flurry of startled birds.

Within the northern command's grand tent.

Dantai Xuan, Mobei Ke, and others waited through the night until a carrier pigeon arrived.

They unfurled its message, and the atmosphere within the tent grew grave.

"Lu Ping'an has indeed left Beiluo."

Mobei Ke sighed.

Dantai Xuan's expression shifted repeatedly before finally issuing the difficult order to withdraw the army, previously retreated thirty li, to one hundred li once more.

Shortly thereafter, another pigeon flapped into the tent. After reading, Dantai Xuan fell silent...