The First Lackey Under The Empress

“The Princess speaks the truth. Emperor Taizu was a man of unparalleled talent. Back then, didn't he force both factions to submit? Most of the world couldn't compete with him.”

The old man in simple robes driving the carriage looked respectful and sighed:

“Unfortunately, things aren't what they used to be. Just take this Buddhist-Taoist competition; the imperial family hasn't participated in it for many years. On the contrary, the line of Martial Emperor City is stirring.”

Xu Junling's expression changed slightly when she heard the words “Martial Emperor City,” and she whispered:

“Master Lu, are you saying that Chai… is aiming to challenge the winner of the two factions?”

The person she spoke of was someone they had encountered on the road to the capital a few days prior.

He was one of the few top experts in the world who had entered the “Celestial Human” realm purely through “martial arts,” a personal disciple of Martial Immortal Kui.

His name was Chai Keqiao.

The old man in simple robes recognized the other party's identity and was extremely vigilant at the time.

However, the Chai-named martial artist was quite polite. Since both parties were heading to the capital, Xu Junling politely invited him to travel together.

He refused, saying that he wanted to walk there.

As a result, several days passed.

The Huainan Prince's Mansion's carriage team was unable to shake off the young martial artist.

The old man in simple robes was quite envious of his stamina.

“Hehe, it's hard to say. But the disciples of Martial Emperor City have always had the tradition of traveling the world and seeking out experts to spar with, called 'wandering' .

Even if this person's purpose in coming to the capital isn't the Buddhist-Taoist competition, he will inevitably cause trouble,” Master Lu said.

Xu Junling, who had a sweet face and the temperament of a lady from a prominent family, nodded gently.

Although she was curious about the struggles of cultivators, it was only limited to that and she didn't really care.

She had other purposes for coming to the capital this time.

At this moment, Xu Junling unfolded the scroll in her hand. What was written on the so-called scroll was information about people in the capital worth paying attention to.

“Zhao Du'an… Hmm, among the many pieces of information my father prepared for me, this person's name appears very frequently, and his relationship with the Emperor is unclear…

However, given the Emperor's personality, this so-called 'male favorite' rumor is probably a deliberately released false statement.”

Xu Junling analyzed softly:

“But even if it's fake, being valued by the Emperor must mean he's not a simple person. I didn't expect this person to have such a bad reputation.”

Beside her, the maid, Lǜshuǐ, whispered:

“How many powerful and overbearing young masters have good reputations? In this servant's opinion, this Zhao is just a… a phoenix from a chicken coop…”

Xu Junling interrupted the maid and said seriously:

“Don't underestimate anyone. If what is said in this intelligence is true, how could someone with such skills not control their temper?

I'm afraid this so-called notorious reputation is all self-deprecation…

He has been dormant for a year, but suddenly rose to power. Such a temperament is rare even among the young talents of Huainan.”

After a pause, she said with a worried look:

“It's a pity that this person and the Jiangnan faction controlled by the Prime Minister are at odds with each other. In terms of position, we are not on the same path as the Huainan Prince's Mansion, which may become an obstacle…

However, if the opposite is true, if the Emperor can truly secure the throne, this person is worth befriending, but we must also consider Li Yinglong's attitude…”

As she spoke, she had already imagined a long series of future scenarios.

The maid whispered:

“Princess, you're thinking too far again. How can you determine what kind of person he is based solely on written words? Maybe he's just a puppet thrown out by His Majesty.”

Xu Junling smiled self-deprecatingly:

“I'm overthinking it. Hearing is false, seeing is believing. I can only wait until I enter the capital to see.”

Closing the scroll, the princess closed her eyes to rest.

In the autumn wind, the carriage rolled over the ruts, gradually approaching the distant capital.

And at the other end of the ruts.

Behind the convoy, there was also a martial artist walking on foot.

He was about twenty years old, with messy hair.

He was wearing linen clothes, straw sandals, carrying a package, and a gourd for water hung around his waist.

He had no weapons such as knives or swords. Only a hemp rope belt that had been rubbed by hand was tied around his waist, with a rather impressive axe stuck haphazardly in the gap between the belt and his ribs.

He didn't have the air of a strongman at all, more like a woodcutter from the mountains.

The woodcutter strode forward, his dirt-stained toes stretching the straw sandals as if they were about to tear.

His pace didn't seem fast, but he was able to steadily follow behind the convoy.

Whether the carriage was fast or slow, the distance between the two never got closer or farther.

Chai Keqiao, his face tanned red and black by the sun, raised his head, put his right hand in front of his eyebrows to form a small “tent,” his gaze seemingly crossing mountains and seas.

His eyes were full of anticipation: “Martial God, what kind of scene is it?”

The carriage was in front, and the martial artist was behind.

One read ten thousand books, and the other traveled ten thousand miles.

In this autumn, the cultivators of the Nine Provinces and Eighteen Prefectures of Dayu were all attracted by the once-in-a-century Buddhist-Taoist competition.

And Zhao Du'an, who was being lazy at home, sneezed inexplicably, rubbed his nose, and muttered:

“Who is talking about me?”

… …

… …

In the next few days, the court was digesting the aftermath of Wang Heng's downfall.

Secret letters were sent to various parts of Dayu, naturally including the Jing Prince's Mansion, which had paid a heavy price.

Unfortunately, no one knew what expression the “Jing Prince,” who occupied Jiancheng Dao and was the first of the eight princes, had.

In the court, the officials were trembling, waiting for the Empress's cruel purge.

But to everyone's surprise, the Empress ordered only the confirmed traitors to be punished, without any implication.

The subsequent “amnesty” caused a subtle change in the wavering atmosphere of the court.

No one knew the pros and cons of this move.

But Wu Ling, a member of the Kuangfu Society stationed in the Eight Directions Opera House, felt the coolness of autumn.

When he met with his companion again, the other party only gave two words:

“Hibernate.”

The Kuangfu Society and the Wangfu secret agents were successively attacked, and the following Buddhist-Taoist competition was like a “truce” signal, causing all parties to suspend their actions.

Even the rebels did not want to cause any trouble in the capital at this juncture, offending the gods of the two major sects at the same time.

Only some subsequent “aftereffects” of the incident slowly rippled in the lake that was the capital.

For example, the “Young Master” who had his official robes stripped off silently returned to the Shenji Camp, as if he had changed into a different person.

For example, the voices criticizing Zhao Du'an in the army gradually disappeared, and under the guidance of the Privy Council, many voices of admiration gradually emerged.

For example, one day, Chen Huoshen, the head of the Firearm Bureau, received Zhao Du'an's design ideas for the “flintlock gun.”

He was overjoyed and excited, and couldn't sleep all night. It is said that he slept with the simple drawings in his arms.

Also, Jin Jian and Gongshu Tianyuan appeared less and less frequently, and the bells of the Tianshi Mansion rang later and later every day.

The same was true of Shenlong Temple.

Days passed, and the number of unfamiliar faces in the capital increased, many of whom were cultivators from all over the country who came to join in the fun and watch the battle.

Who wouldn't want to see such a once-in-a-century event?

However, unlike the increasingly common discussions about the Buddhist-Taoist competition in the streets and alleys.

Zhao Du'an only wanted to sleep.

“It's a cool autumn…”

Early this morning, Zhao Du'an woke up wrapped in his quilt, and sighed sleepily.