Chapter 12: The King of Yue Breaks the Siege

By the banks of the Luo River, willows swayed gently in the cool breeze. On the river, painted boats weaved back and forth, their lanterns bright and glowing. The Luo River Tavern stood like the horn of a mighty dragon, towering here, offering a panoramic view of the river’s scenery.

With a curious expression, Ling Xuan gently held Ye Ziyan’s hand and slowly ascended to the ninth floor. The elegant chamber named "Autumn Breeze over Luo Shore" was the venue for the banquet.

Pushing open the door, inside were young noblemen from influential families, fanning themselves with folding fans, their faces alight with smiles. Their eyes kept darting toward Ye Ziyan. “The Young Lord of Changping and his noble consort honor us with their presence. Cheng Xiang feels truly fortunate.”

Yu Wen Chengxiang? Was this the same Yu Wen Chengxiang Ling Xuan had seen during the healing of Uncle Gou?

A broad smile spread across Ling Xuan’s face as he grinned mischievously. “Young Master Yu Wen, I have just arrived in Luoyang, yet you already know and have invited me to this feast. Your connections are indeed formidable. Aren’t you going to invite me to the Duke of Xu’s mansion?”

“How could I invite you before knowing your preferences? That would be a slight to you and your noble consort,” Yu Wen Chengxiang said, bowing respectfully. “Please, Young Lord and Lady, take the seats of honor.”

“Is there anyone else?” Ling Xuan surveyed the seats in the chamber—four chairs, none removed. A smirk played at his lips. “Could it be, Young Master Yu Wen has a fair lady with him?”

“My second brother heard of the Young Lord’s return and is preparing a grand gift; he will arrive shortly,” Yu Wen Chengxiang chuckled, waving his hand. “Quick, bring the tea—the finest sparrow’s tongue!”

Yu Wen Chenglong?

He had heard this pair of brothers were quite the characters.

Ling Xuan’s smile twisted slightly. “I shall look forward to seeing what this grand gift might be.”

Just as he was about to sit casually, Yu Wen Chengxiang hastily gestured toward the window seat. “Young Lord, please take the seat!”

“Prepared especially for me?” Ling Xuan chuckled. By current customs, the seat of honor was the last to settle the bill. “I have just returned to the prince’s mansion. The prince has gone to the Demon Suppression Abyss, so funds are limited.”

“You jest, Young Lord. Inviting you to the feast and having you honor us with your presence already brings me great honor. How could I let you pay?” Yu Wen Chengxiang quickly clasped his hands.

As Ling Xuan settled, the emblem on his chest—a coiling serpent entwined around the moon—suddenly radiated intense heat. A small white snake hissed in his ear, synchronizing rhythmically with the tides outside on the Luo River.

A sudden dizziness overcame Ling Xuan. Was this a reaction from the Orange Needle? Or was it a resonance with the chained woman in white? Though the Luo River was not the Demon Suppression Abyss, it was connected to it.

He glanced at Ye Ziyan, who was delicately sipping fragrant tea. A flash of purple veins appeared briefly on her neck.

Yu Wen Chengxiang seemed oblivious, his smile unwavering as he gently fanned himself.

“Young Master Yu Wen, is it warm here?” Ling Xuan teased, glancing out the window. “Though it’s early spring, and the weather is warm, there’s still a faint chill.”

“I’m used to it, used to it,” Yu Wen Chengxiang laughed softly, folding his fan. “Now that the Young Lord has returned, what plans do you have?”

“I’m accustomed to a leisurely life. Perhaps Young Master Yu Wen has some suggestions?”

Raising the teacup, Ling Xuan inhaled the aroma. The scent was exquisite—a high-grade sparrow’s tongue indeed. He was surprised no trickery had been played, yet why did Ye Ziyan’s Purple Phoenix spirit react so?

The Purple Phoenix spirit, descended from the former Chen royal family, bore a curse that trapped it in ice. It relied on a monthly drop of vital Yang blood for nourishment, or it would dissipate entirely.

The mysterious Frozen Ice curse was something even Qiu Rui did not understand. Only by finding all nine of the Benevolent Heart Needles could the enigma be unraveled.

Yu Wen Chengxiang flicked his fan. “You keep a little white snake, so you must be well-versed in serpents’ habits. Have you heard of the Spirit Serpent Entwining the Moon?”

Here it comes? At last, he reveals his purpose? Ling Xuan caught a glimpse of the fan’s design—a gray falcon, gray feathers, orange eyes.

A secret smile curled Ling Xuan’s lips. “I can’t stand living in Luoyang; I’ll just return to my small mountain village, live a simple rural life, and catch a few hawks and falcons to roast.”

Sipping the fragrant tea, a bitterness like rust touched his tongue. The serpent-and-moon emblem flared hot again. Ling Xuan’s brow twitched slightly. Could this tea have been deliberately prepared to provoke a spirit reaction in him and Ye Ziyan?

“The prince is away, commanding troops. Can the Young Lord return safely?” Yu Wen Chengxiang reclined in his chair, fan waving, his face radiating smiles.

What? Am I a hostage? The Young Lord of Changping, Qiu Rui, commanding armies yet holding me hostage?

Unbothered, Ling Xuan grinned widely. “Young Master Yu Wen, are you certain you’ve got me figured out?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Yu Wen Chengxiang shook his head repeatedly. “I heard the Prince of Changping found you in Jiangnan. Have you heard of the old affairs of the Former Chen?”

Ye Ziyan’s fingers trembled, clutching tightly, her petite frame shivering as she reached toward the twin Purple Phoenix blades. “We weren’t even born when Former Chen fell. Is Young Master Yu Wen deliberately troubling my husband?”

Ling Xuan quickly took her hand, laughing softly. “My lady speaks truly. When the world unites under one heart and one empire, with all nations paying tribute and the Divine Emperor’s glory unmatched—does the Yu Wen family have other intentions?”

“Well said, well said!”

The chamber door creaked open, admitting a tall, imposing figure with a handsome beard, clad in an elegant azure robe. Clapping his hands, he praised, “The Young Lord of Changping is indeed remarkable.”

At a glance, Yu Wen Chengxiang’s eyes flickered with a trace of fear, recognizing this visitor was not one of the Yu Wen clan. Ling Xuan was slightly taken aback, his smile lopsided. “My knowledge is limited; have I not yet had the honor of your introduction?”

“Come, drink with me,” the newcomer declared, waving away the tea cup and sweeping it aside. “What is there to discuss with the little Yu Wen brat? Only such rascals could use Demon Suppression Abyss blood sand to soak water.”

A prince? Which prince?

Ling Xuan had never met anyone like this—a young prince. Who could he be?

He hurriedly took Ye Ziyan’s hand and stood. “May I ask your grace’s name?”

“Don’t you recognize me?”

The young man in the azure robe laughed heartily. “Well, you’ve just arrived in Luoyang and are unfamiliar with things here. I only learned you were attending this feast from Qiu Fu at the Changping Prince’s mansion, so I came specially.”

Ling Xuan bowed. “I am but a rustic country lad. How dare I burden your grace with such regard?”

“Enough with the formalities,” the azure-robed prince shook his head, feigning anger. “Come, to my mansion! I will host your welcome banquet.”

Glancing down, Ling Xuan noticed a carriage adorned with lanterns bearing the words “Prince of Yue’s Mansion.” He could hardly believe his eyes. “This… this is Yang Xuangan?”

In his memory, the Prince of Yue’s mansion was unrelated to the Changping Prince’s mansion. Could the history of this world differ so greatly from what he remembered?

More importantly, the Prince of Yue, Yang Xuangan’s father, was a key figure in the downfall of Former Chen.

Shortly after Ling Xuan’s arrival at the Changping Prince’s mansion, both the Yu Wen family and the Prince of Yue’s mansion had been informed. Could there be spies from both families within the Changping Prince’s residence?

He saw Ye Ziyan’s hand clenched tighter, her delicate body trembling as she fought to restrain herself. Ling Xuan quickly drew her close. “My lady, take a deep breath. It seems the Yu Wen family’s tea is not to be trusted—it has triggered your cold poison.”

Swiftly, silver needles flicked out, and a red Taiji pattern glowed in his palm, releasing a wave of scorching energy.

“Does the Young Lord know acupuncture?” Yu Wen Chengxiang’s eyes widened in surprise, pondering deeply. It seemed they were headed to the Imperial Medical Office—time to reveal true colors.

“A rustic country lad naturally knows some wild village methods,” Ling Xuan said, giving a sideways glance and a sly grin. “Young Master Yu Wen, I’ll remember this debt. When I have time, I’ll visit to catch and roast some gray falcons.”

“Come, quickly to my mansion,” Yang Xuangan waved. “Let the Young Lord’s consort properly recuperate. I have a Tianshan snow lotus tribute from the Western Regions, personally bestowed by the Divine Emperor. It will surely aid her recovery.”

“Thank you kindly, Your Grace,” Ling Xuan smiled gently, embracing his beloved and descending the stairs slowly.

At his ear, warmth surged suddenly. Ye Ziyan did not expect Ling Xuan’s intimate gesture but felt it was the only option now. She murmured softly, “Put me down. Don’t let the prince laugh at us.”

“The love between the Young Lord and his consort is truly enviable,” Yang Xuangan said with a warm smile. “Such a tale is a blessing, not a joke. Only doves envy immortals—that is the truth.”

Ling Xuan was speechless. It seemed a visit to the Prince of Yue’s mansion was unavoidable. Yet what schemes did Yang Xuangan harbor?

Recalling Yang Xuangan’s rebellion against the Sui dynasty in his memories, could he be trying to use Ling Xuan to win over Prince Qiu Rui of Changping? Or did Yang Xuangan also possess a great spirit capable of sensing the Spirit Serpent Entwining the Moon?