The King of Beixiang entered Anqing first, destroyed the Yan clan, and seized the initiative in dividing the realm. After negotiations, Great Jing was split east and west along the Huai Ridge.
The west went to the Northern Desert, while the east went to Beixiang.
The tribes of the Northern Desert united, establishing the realm called Xiao. They set their capital at Ximing. Beixiang continued its old ways, taking Xiang as its state na and setting the capital at Shangjing.
The deep palace had a new master now too.
When the King of Beixiang, Zhao Zhen, entered Huayang Palace, he set up an altar of Heaven and Earth. He paid respects to heaven to affirm his fortune, prayed for blessings, and secured his position as the Son of Heaven.
After years of stalemate, though the Northern Mang had risen, matters had taken a turn. He had entered Great Jing.
Zhao Zhen, now over fifty, felt a touch of lancholy. He never thought he’d see the day where he’d co here, let alone beco its master.
He recalled eting Yan Xun long ago, when both were in their pri. More than thirty years had passed in a flash. Each had beco a ruler. It was a sha that next ti they t, they were mortal foes.
“Yan Xun, ah Yan Xun, it seems I turned out the better one.”
Standing upon the pavilion, Zhao Zhen gazed out over the capital. Stroking his beard, he smiled faintly, then entered the great hall behind him.
Officials of Da Xiang, while sorting out old items left from the Jing Era, discovered nurous books in the Library Pavilion. They’d probably been left behind when Emperor Jing fled south, too much to carry away.
Most were books of assorted topics, covering many things. On the third floor, the historian found the chronicles recording the rise and fall of Great Jing. He checked them one by one, made corrections, and stored them away.
But when he saw the last volu, a question rose in the historian’s mind.
“Who… wrote this?”
A chill went through the historian. Looking again, the writing on the bamboo slips didn’t look new. It seed very old.
Since the Prince of Xiang had taken Great Jing, the Library Pavilion had been sealed. No one had entered since. So who could have added these last entries?
“This timing doesn’t match!”
The historian’s heart jolted. He imdiately took the history book to the king.
After reading it, Zhao Zhen was puzzled. “What’s wrong with this history book?” he asked.
He couldn’t see any issue.
The historian trembled as he spoke. “Your Majesty, the carvings in the bamboo don’t seem recent. From what your humble servant can tell, these last entries… they were carved before the events they describe. A rough estimate suggests…”
“Possibly a year earlier, even before Your Majesty set fire to Anqing.”
Zhao Zhen paused, then picked up the book to look again.
Indeed, the latest entries had shallower carvings.
Zhao Zhen pondered, then frowned. Softly, he muttered, “How is that possible…”
If true, before he’d even seized Great Jing, soone had foreseen everything that followed. Emperor Jing’s flight south, the fire siege of Anqing, Great Jing’s fall. Each event was recorded with precise dates.
It was truly unbelievable.
He glanced up at the historian but stayed silent, then dismissed him.
Once the historian left, Zhao Zhen took up the history book once more.
He ran his fingers over the letters, still reluctant to believe it.
“Attendant,” Zhao Zhen called.
He ordered Great Jing’s forr historians brought for questioning.
But none knew who had added those entries.
After getting this confirmation, Zhao Zhen grew more curious.
Next, he summoned Great Jing’s forr Astrology Overseer of the Directorate of Celestial Observation.
Aged Xuan Tian knelt in the great hall, trembling, too afraid to lift his head.
“This king hears you know divination. That you could read the heavens, see a person’s destiny. Here is a page of bamboo slips. Calculate for who wrote it.”
Xuan Tian was horrified. His voice rasped. “Your Majesty, this humble Taoist… this Taoist does not possess such skills…”
He had learned so celestial observation from the Sword Immortal, but knowing who wrote a book? He knew nothing about that.
“You cannot?”
Zhao Zhen replied, “I was told you call yourself a hermit Immortal Daoist, that your elixirs grant long life. You speak so boldly, yet fail at this small task?”
Xuan Tian froze inside. Kneeling, terror had shattered his courage.
Zhao Zhen snorted coldly. “So Immortal Daoist! A Demon Dao is all you are! It was through poisonous pill tricks you muddled Emperor Jing’s mind, wasn’t it? There is no art of eternal life in this world!”
“Take him away. Hang him in East Market. Leave the body on display for three days.”
“Let this king see who else dares use the words ‘eternal life’ to fool the world!”
With a wave of his hand, guards stepped forward from the hall.
Panic gripped Xuan Tian. Seeing them approach, he wanted to flee, but his legs shook. He couldn’t even stand.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! True eternal life exists! This humble Taoist speaks the truth, Your Majesty!!”
“Spare , Your Majesty! Spare …”
Xuan Tian was dragged step by step from the grand hall. Helpless to resist, just before leaving –
A thought struck him. Suddenly he cried out: “This humble Taoist has seen the Immortal of Longevity!”
The shout echoed from the doorway.
Zhao Zhen, seated inside, looked towards the noise. After a thoughtful pause, he raised his hand in a signal.
The guards released Xuan Tian, who scrambled free.
He ran back and fell to his knees before the king. On his knees, he shuffled forward.
“Your Majesty, my Master was once friends with a gentleman. Over a full sexagenary cycle (60 years), that gentleman’s face never changed. Ageless! A true immortal! When this humble Taoist later entered the Directorate of Celestial Observation, he also t him once. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he vanished.”
“If I speak even half a lie, Your Majesty, deal with as you wish!”
Silence fell upon the hall.
Zhao Zhen looked at the odd disheveled Taoist before him. Before this, he wouldn’t have believed. But seeing this history book, a faint thought stirred: perhaps such an Immortal truly existed.
Xuan Tian’s heart pounded in his throat. He knelt, waiting for the Prince of Xiang’s next words. They’d decide his life or death.
Zhao Zhen was silent a long while. His fingers tapped thoughtfully on the Dragon Throne. Finally, he spoke:
“That gentleman you ntioned… what was his na?”
Seeing the king take interest, Xuan Tian seized his chance. Hurriedly, he answered, “Chen! His surna was Chen!”
“His courtesy na?” Zhao Zhen pressed.
Xuan Tian opened his mouth. “This humble Taoist…this Taoist…”
“Your Majesty, I do not know his courtesy na! Always, I called him Mr. Chen. His full na… only my Master knew it. But… my Master passed away long ago.”
“Yes! Yes! That gentleman always wore a Blue Robe! Every ti he visited my Master, he carried a Gourd of wine!”
“Not a single word is false, Your Majesty! I swear!”
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