Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 95: The Summer Retainers

This was simply an ordinary breathing exercise for refining one's energy—a common method for health and cultivation that, with diligence, could allow an ordinary person to live to ninety-nine. Yet this person before him had acted recklessly, somehow turning his own body into its current state. Wang Chuan was left speechless.

“Wang Chuan, what do you think?” the Lord of Xia asked directly. “This was given to me by a great master I met while seeking the Immortal Mountains in my youth.”

“And where is this master now?” Wang Chuan inquired.

“I don't know. I sent people to search for him later, but perhaps he has wandered off among the stars,” the Lord of Xia replied wistfully. “Wang Chuan, have you ever roamed the outer realms?”

“It’s effortless—I used to do so often,” Wang Chuan said.

“Of course, that’s just like you, Wang Chuan.” The Lord of Xia grew more eager. “When do you think I’ll reach that level?”

After so many years focused on cultivation instead of the affairs of state, it seemed he no longer cared even for his own throne. Though at least he’d stopped referring to himself with royal titles, which did make him seem more approachable.

Wang Chuan was about to reply when he suddenly heard a rumbling from the other’s stomach. He couldn’t help but ask, “Your Majesty, are you hungry? Why not dine first? I should take my leave and rest early as well.”

But the Lord’s large hand gripped his wrist firmly, eyes resolute. “I am not hungry!”

Uh…

But your body betrays you.

“Unfortunately, I am hungry,” Wang Chuan said, resigned. “Your Majesty, if you are free tomorrow, I will come again and discuss the Dao with you.”

“You haven’t achieved fasting yet?” The Lord of Xia was astonished.

“Fasting?” Wang Chuan was even more surprised.

“Indeed, I have fasted for many days now. Occasionally I gain insights—I feel I am close to transcending, to ascending and shattering the void. Wang Chuan, you have already surpassed this realm, so you must understand. What do you think of my progress?”

I think you’re about to starve to death.

At Wang Chuan’s level, he could of course do without food and drink; refining the vital energies of heaven and earth, his own energies circulating perpetually, converting and refining themselves into purer forms. Still, eating daily was a habit, and he saw no harm in it.

But ordinary people practicing fasting as well?

Such posturing was not only useless, it was downright harmful.

“Your Majesty, have you truly not eaten or drunk anything this entire time?” Wang Chuan asked.

“It has been forty-nine days—seven times seven,” the Lord replied. “Each day I drink only clear water, and taste a little congee made from fine rice. I feel I am close to the next stage, when I can do without food, water, or sleep altogether.”

Indeed, you’re practically about to ascend…

Enough.

“Your Majesty, I have a spiritual elixir that may aid your cultivation. Would you care to try it?” Wang Chuan produced a pill for him.

“Excellent!” The Lord took it at once and swallowed it whole.

The ink-black pill entered his stomach, spreading a coolness through his meridians, which soon transformed into a gentle warmth. As he swallowed, he felt as though he might float away on clouds. A faint white mist rose from his body. The Lord’s excitement grew—his spirits soared, and all hunger and discomfort vanished.

“This truly is a divine elixir! Wang Chuan, you must be a sage reborn!” the Lord exclaimed in awe.

“You should get some rest now,” Wang Chuan advised.

What he’d given was no more than an ordinary fasting pill—not something that rendered food unnecessary, but a substitute, providing energy in place of meals. Though the ingredients were costly, for royalty such matters were trivial.

Yet there wasn’t even a single attendant present here; only hidden experts watched over the Lord. Just as well—no need to imagine himself an assassin.

Wang Chuan called for someone to come and attend to the Lord, then made his farewell. Not even half an hour had passed, but that was enough.

Leaving the palace gates, he found the outside suddenly ablaze with torchlight, flickering over the faces of those gathered there. A group of officials in ceremonial robes stood beneath the lights, their attire gleaming strangely. Yet with all those dazzling robes, Wang Chuan couldn’t make out any faces. In this foreign land, there would be no familiar ones anyway.

“Gentlemen, are you aware of the villainy flourishing within the palace? The Son of Heaven has not attended court for twenty years, entrusting power to alchemists and listening to slander, while traitors prosper and schemes against the Crown Prince abound. If we turn a blind eye, the state is doomed!” a man at the front cried loudly.

The voice was so forceful it startled even Wang Chuan.

The officials glared with fury.

Why did those stares all fall on him?

“All because of you charlatans misleading the emperor!” The lead official pointed at Wang Chuan with a sharp gaze. “No matter who you are, you will not be allowed to act with impunity in this court! Whatever your purpose, you will not succeed in Xia! You’re finished—don’t let us catch you in this city. The law is merciless!”

“Are you addled, or have you mistaken me for someone else?” Wang Chuan found this hostility baffling and had no wish to argue. “Out of my way!”

He moved to leave, but the group blocked his path.

“Insolence! How dare a mere sorcerer behave so brazenly!” The leader raised both arms and shouted, “We demand audience with the emperor to submit our remonstrance. First, impeach the Prime Minister for idleness and incompetence, and request his dismissal and replacement. Second, criticize His Majesty’s indulgence in priests and alchemists, and urge the removal of all sycophants in favor of worthy ministers. Third, impeach the eunuchs and alchemists for meddling in governance and harassing the people—demand their expulsion from the capital, never to be reinstated. Fourth, request that the Crown Prince’s studies be supervised by learned and virtuous scholars, to set a proper example.”

He spoke so loudly it seemed meant for those inside to hear.

Everyone knew the emperor was surrounded by flatterers and knaves—mainly eunuchs, monks, and alchemists—obsessed with immortality. For years, he had avoided court and neglected governance, never meeting ministers of virtue.

The affairs of state piled up endlessly as officials quarreled and intrigues mounted.

The crisis had come swifter than rumor foretold; what had been whispered was now undeniable fact. With the Lord of Xia’s grand birthday approaching, the emperor had issued several edicts in quick succession, appointing and rewarding over a dozen relatives, alchemists, Taoists, and monks.

In half a day, the news had spread through all the ministries, causing an uproar—this time the emperor’s recklessness was intolerable!

Sorcerers and charlatans given the rank of ministers, entering court as officials—what a disgrace! The lavish rewards for the Zhou clan, the royal in-laws, were beyond all propriety.

How could anyone endure this? Did the emperor even care about governance, about his responsibilities, about the fate of the nation?

In recent years, he had expanded the palace ever higher, siphoned the treasury to replenish his inner coffers, squandering millions. Eunuchs ran wild, extorting wealth for the imperial household, stirring public resentment.

For years, the emperor had secluded himself, never meeting upright men, surrounded by wicked sycophants, leaving loyal ministers disheartened.

Their countless memorials had likely never even been opened, let alone read.

So the censors and upright officials waited at the gates again and again, hoping for a chance.

In earlier days, the emperor might occasionally receive a few ministers for a chat. Now he had shut himself away entirely, even dismissing his attendants.

Tonight, with the palace doors finally open, word spread that he had received some sorcerer from outside.

The emperor had lost all virtue!

The upright ministers could not stand idly by!

So they massed at the palace gates once more.

As for this charlatan, deceiving the emperor, he was guilty beyond redemption—he’d better not fall into their hands, nor have any record of wrongdoing.

Otherwise, he was as good as dead.

In Xia, no one could save him.

As for the Prime Minister and the high officials, in the face of the emperor’s caprice, they dared not resist, preferring to feign ignorance and muddle through.

Wang Chuan had not expected Xia to have sunk to such a state.

“The emperor is resting—gentlemen, do not cause trouble,” a eunuch hurried out. Wang Chuan recognized him as one who had welcomed him at the gates.

With a single pill, Wang Chuan had already cleansed his body; he would sleep soundly and long tonight.

“Enough! You always have excuses. You said the same this afternoon, yet now you've let the emperor meet with this charlatan,” the leader accused, glancing at Wang Chuan.

“In the past, it was at His Majesty’s command—I dared not disobey. Now the emperor truly sleeps; I dare not lie,” the eunuch pleaded, which made the officials hesitate.

Too late—they should have barged in earlier, but dared not.

To think such a villain had met the emperor, and now the emperor had gone straight to sleep.

Their spirits were crushed.

“Lord Zhong, what should we do?” an official asked the leader.

“A collective remonstrance embodies loyalty and righteousness! The country supports its scholars, who must stand for justice! We have been fed by the state—now is the time to share its burdens!” Lord Zhong cried, raising his arm. “We have repeatedly urged His Majesty to honor the worthy and dismiss the wicked. If these treacherous ministers and deceivers persist, we must restore order and cleanse the court!”

Impressive—were they planning a purge, or even rebellion?

Wang Chuan’s interest was finally piqued. He was curious to see if there was a Jin ruler orchestrating matters behind the scenes.

“Insolence! How dare you make such a clamor in the sacred precincts? Such disgraceful behavior—have you all forgotten your years of study?” Suddenly, an angry voice rang out. The officials parted, and a middle-aged man with a short beard strode forth.

“Commissioner Chen, running here to curry favor—truly a lackey of the Prime Minister!” another official spat.

“Say what you will about me, but this is the Crown Prince of Jin—His Highness Prince Wang Chuan! What do you think you’re doing, creating a scene here? Be gone at once!” the man barked, face flushed with anger.

Then he bowed respectfully to Wang Chuan. “Your Highness, please forgive these ignorant men for their offense. I beg you not to take it to heart.”

The Crown Prince of Jin?

Wang Chuan!

The name alone was enough to startle them, but even more so was the realization that this person was indeed Wang Chuan.

Something was amiss—this man wasn't a sorcerer, but the renowned Prince Wang Chuan.

They must have made a mistake somewhere.

A look of despair came over the group; lips trembled silently.

“You truly are Prince Wang Chuan?” someone asked, still unwilling to believe.

“How could you be Prince Wang Chuan? How could the emperor receive you so late at night?” Some began to glance at the lead official—apparently named Chen Ying.

Something was clearly wrong.

“A rabble, that's all Xia has to offer,” Wang Chuan chuckled. “The traitors are united, but you so-called righteous ministers, supposedly upholding the nation, are nothing but incompetents!”

He saw no reason to dwell on them.

May the Jin army soon press forward—good or bad, in the end, they would all be prisoners of the south.