Su Lingxi didn’t speak.
“The useless children told me that you had someone investigate me.”
Seeing her silence, the old man didn’t press the matter.
He sat up straighter, and the sharpness of his youth seemed to momentarily return to his aged frame like a flickering spark.
“I did investigate you,” Su Lingxi replied without pressure, meeting his gaze calmly and stating the facts.
“I don’t believe there are people in this world who help me for no reason and expect nothing in return. If I could accept such kindness from the heavens without suspicion, I wouldn’t have survived until now.”
The old man nodded in agreement.
“That’s a fair point.”
“You stopped halfway through the investigation—did you already guess it?”
Su Lingxi smiled.
“Then,” the old man said, and even the wrinkles on his face seemed to smooth out, “since you want something from me, I assume you’ve also guessed what I want in return?”
Su Lingxi’s eyes curved slightly with a smile.
“You’ve hinted at it with many things over the years, but nothing has ever tempted me as much as this prescription. After all, I asked for it myself.”
“Chang’an is unstable right now, and it’s inconvenient for me to go out. Please offer congratulations to the Sect Master of Liuyun Sect on my behalf. Once this pill formula succeeds, he’ll finally be able to stop calling himself the sinner of Liuyun Sect.”
The old man narrowed his eyes slightly.
Fourteen years ago, the former emperor passed away.
Rebels across the land declared themselves kings and invaded Chang’an.
At the time, most supporters of the new emperor were former officials—full of idealism but utterly powerless.
Expecting them to hold off the invading rebels was a dream.
Everyone knows that the ones who truly resisted the rebellion were the three great sects who pursued the Dao and cared little for worldly affairs.
Among them, Liuyun Sect was the one forced to lead the charge.
Outsiders don’t know what Su Lingxi offered them, but the elders of Liuyun Sect know the truth.
Back then, the sect leader wasn’t the current one but his younger brother—a genius in his youth whose cultivation had stalled after a deviation.
Eighteen-year-old Su Lingxi appeared before him like a celestial being and proposed a deal.
Incense Ignition Technique.
To someone suffering from a deviation, that was like a single beam of light piercing through darkness.
If she had only dealt with the current sect leader, it wouldn’t have been enough to worry even an old wood element cultivator like himself.
Ancient forces all have their own legacies.
Floating Jade has its unique celestial arts;
The Human Emperor holds the Dragon Vein and Imperial Seal;
The Floating Flower Sword Sect has the Bodhi Ancestor Tree;
Tianchan Temple has its treasure vault.
As for Liuyun Sect—their treasure is a stone beast.
The beast has a spirit, formed from the will of the generations of elders who passed before.
Its intelligence only awakened in recent decades and is as tender as a child.
Su Lingxi not only secured the promise of the sect leader but also that of the stone beast.
Even now, the stone beast is still bound by chains.
Because of this bond, Liuyun Sect has openly supported Su Lingxi all this time—even involving themselves in the disgraceful act of deciding an emperor’s fate.
“I’ve provided the prescription. Whether you can gather the ingredients to refine the pill is up to your ability, Imperial Preceptor.”
The old man took out a stone box, gently pushed it open, and revealed a piece of animal hide.
“Have a look?”
Su Lingxi accepted it without ceremony, placed it on her lap, studied it for a while, then closed her eyes while holding the ox hide.
She knew not all demon pearls were useful.
If they were, the ancient texts wouldn’t be so silent about them.
Demon pearls rot easily, and once they stink, the smell is hard to remove—so demon suppression squads usually crush them on the spot and never bring them back.
But she hadn’t expected the requirements to be so strict.
Top twenty ranked demon pearls…
Su Lingxi had recently revised the demon rankings herself—adjusting only those between ranks 30 to 70.
No one dared touch the top twenty.
She had ordered Floating Jade’s elite squad to await instructions at the Demon Suppression Department for exactly this reason.
Two days ago in the department’s dungeon, the Three-Eyed Toad’s expression was proof that something had slipped past the formations and infiltrated Chang’an.
Once these things appear, chaos is inevitable.
Su Lingxi traced the raised symbols on the hide, letting them glide across her fingertips and settle in her mind for repeated confirmation.
The old man didn’t rush her.
He even picked up the cup of tea she had made.
They had known each other for years, and he understood that this clever girl wasn’t easily tempted.
But as she said—since she asked for it, it meant she truly needed it.
She had the courage to take it all on.
After a while, Su Lingxi put away the hide—without handing it back.
She placed it beside her and said, “I don’t want these things appearing anywhere in Dayin.
But if they must, and if I can use their pearls, then so be it.”
The old man exhaled deeply, finally relaxed enough to enjoy his tea.
He also reminded her, “From today on, weigh your actions carefully. Tianchan Temple has cut ties with you. They only acknowledge emperors who bear the Dragon Qi—and as I understand it, half of that Qi is now with Prince Yan?
If Liuyun Sect stops supporting you, only the Floating Flower Sword Sect will remain behind you.”
Thinking of the court’s situation, even he shook his head.
Su Lingxi smiled and nodded.
“I’ll weigh carefully.”
“When the pill is complete, I’ll unbind your sacred beast.”
After over ten years, this debt was finally cleared.
When the old man left the palace, he felt refreshed, as if the wind carried him forward, his back straight and full of life.
Su Lingxi gazed at the teacup in front of her, watching the tea leaves swirl in the night breeze.
Her smiling eyes gradually turned cold, and her gaze sharpened.
Xi Liu approached from a distance, stood by her side, and asked, “My lady?”
Su Lingxi answered softly, refocusing.
She opened the ox hide again for another look.
A demon ranked so highly—if not swiftly dealt with, it would bring a bloody storm and countless casualties.
The best way to handle it fast was to dispatch that elite unit—even have Ye Zhuxu and Sang Chu lead it personally.
Su Lingxi couldn’t join every battle. It was a team effort, after all.
Even if she joined, how would she smuggle the pearl away under everyone’s watch—especially when it seemed useless to most?
Sang Chu had long sought to use her as leverage.
If he learned she needed the pearl, he would definitely demand something in return.
She didn’t trust them, didn’t want to deal with Floating Jade—but she might have to offer bait to secure the pearls first.
There was one particularly troublesome man.
Floating Jade had sixteen squads.
If Ye Zhuxu appeared, they all answered to him.
Two days ago, Su Lingxi still thought of avoiding the Commander for now—he was wild and unpredictable, dangerous and uncontrollable, with unresolved personal enmity toward her.
She had always disliked dealing with such people—nothing but trouble.
Yet now, she had to consider it.
As terrible as he was, Ye Zhuxu hadn’t done anything out of line—proving he understood his role.
Two nights ago, he’d vented his anger and frightened people.
She wondered if he could now sit down calmly to talk.
After all, Su Lingxi needed more than one demon pearl.
Chen Shang, who had been detained at the Demon Suppression Department for three days and nights, only rested at his estate for one night before dragging his aching, exhausted body into a plain gray-topped sedan chair at dawn.
It bypassed the bustling streets and arrived at a manor in the western outskirts of Chang’an, stopping at the side gate.
He had stayed tense every second inside the department, unable to sleep.
Even after applying medicine last night, the pain was unbearable and sleep elusive.
Now, with the carriage jolting, Chen Shang couldn’t help but doze with his eyes half-closed—until the carriage came to a halt and the servant called out:
“Young master, we’ve arrived.”
Chen Shang instantly sobered up.
He straightened his attire and stepped down from the carriage.
A steward from the garden approached, bowed respectfully, and led the way.
Chen Shang glanced around and asked in a low voice, “Did His Highness really say he would meet today?”
“Yes,” the steward replied, leading them toward the front courtyard.
“Several other officials have also arrived.”
In the entire Great Yin dynasty, there was only one prince of royal blood—Prince Yan, Xue Huai, who had abdicated the throne.
His status was exalted, but his situation was awkward.
It was the hottest time of the year; the sun rose the moment daylight broke, blazing down like molten gold.
For the past two months, Prince Yan had been staying in the garden.
As they stepped into the inner courtyard, the first thing they saw was a massive cabinet made of fragrant yellow sandalwood, and the first thing they smelled was the bitter scent of medicinal decoction boiling.
Crown Prince Chen Shang kept his eyes straight ahead, stepped forward, knelt on both knees, and bowed his head.
“Your Highness.”
He vaguely heard a muffled cough, then a servant came forward to help Chen Shang up and brought in a wide armchair.
Inside the room, a few senior officials in plain clothes sat upright and serious.
In front of each of them were a few plates of pastries and a cup of tea, but none had touched them.
It was too early for anyone to be in the mood for tea.
A maid gently lifted two layers of sheer gauze curtains, then drew up a string of beaded drapes.
Prince Yan was not seated on the grand chair adorned with pearls and cast with a golden python’s head.
Instead, he stood by the tightly shut window.
A maid handed him a thick medicinal tonic.
After he drank it, she immediately offered rinse water and a clean cloth.
Once all was done, the attendants silently withdrew.
From behind the curtain, Prince Yan raised his eyes to Chen Shang and asked, “Did the Demon Suppression Bureau torture you?”
Chen Shang’s eyes twitched slightly.
He respectfully replied, “Just some minor injuries, nothing serious. I’ll recover in a few days. Thank you for your concern, Your Highness.”
Prince Yan raised his hand, covering his mouth as he coughed lightly.
After a pause, he said again, “You’ve had a hard time.”
Chen Shang quickly cupped his hands in response.
“I dare not accept such praise.”
This man—once the supreme ruler—had been demoted to prince three years ago at Su Lingxi’s insistence, citing his frail health as unsuitable for governing.
Other than his poor health and lack of heirs, he had no other faults his ministers could criticize.
Before the age of eighteen, the officials viewed Prince Yan Xue Huai favorably.
As a prince, being pampered was expected, but he was known to be modest, diligent, and eager to learn—a boy as pure as snow in Chang’an.
Yet he had never been trained as crown prince, and though he had a kind heart, he lacked decisiveness.
Who would have thought, after two years of exile and wandering, he’d return to stabilize the country and rule steadily for ten years?
Now thirty and no longer naive, he was virtuous and wise, capable of strategic planning, decisive in battle yet knowing when to stop.
It was a time of political stability and clarity across the land—yet he had suddenly, and forcibly, abdicated.
How could anyone not be devastated by that?
Chen Shang lifted his head slightly and met Prince Yan’s long, narrow phoenix eyes.
The Xue family all had eyes like these—when they smiled, it felt like a spring breeze; when they didn’t, their dignity was overwhelming.
Aside from the pale lips, there was nothing flawed about his appearance.
And originally, poor health shouldn’t have been his flaw either.
Back when the late emperor passed away, Prince Yan, the only surviving heir, was poisoned with a deadly toxin.
When he was taken into Fuyu, the poison wasn’t removed in time, and it damaged his lungs.
If not for a fragment of dragon vein protecting his heart and years of nourishing medicine, he wouldn’t have survived until now.
Even so, he had to be extra cautious with everything—he feared cold in winter, needing heated chambers, and feared heat in summer, needing cool halls.
“…It’s just that I’ve come to see Your Highness straight after leaving the Demon Suppression Bureau. I fear they may have sent someone to follow me.”
Chen Shang said.
Prince Yan’s sleeve drooped slightly.
His voice was warm and calm, with a faint smile:
“Wasn’t it her order to release you?”
“Go on then,” he added, walking slowly to Chen Shang’s side.
He personally reached out to lift Chen’s cupped hands and gestured for him to rise.
“What message did she ask you to bring me?”