"Are they preparing for a sacrificial offering to the Family God?"
Ji Jue looked towards Minkler, who had just returned, unable to hide his surprise. He had originally expected the best outco to muddy the waters, but did not anticipate that Minkler could hit the mark directly.
However, Minkler showed no signs of joy or pride, his expression was stern.
"I haven't even exerted myself yet."
His face fell. "It was Bogio. He exerted great effort and moved up the selection of the Family God ahead of schedule... He hoped I would act as a decoy outside, helping him draw attention."
After realizing the threat that Minkler posed, Bogio planned to quickly resolve the matter.
But he didn't expect Minkler to be even faster.
Too absurdly fast.
As if soone had pressed a speed-up button.
Exposing himself by noon yesterday, settling the Venom Fleet in the afternoon, dealing with the Sujano family's retaliation and backlash by night, and then arriving the next day.
If it had been a day later, no, even half a day later, a few hours perhaps, Bogio might have already bypassed Minkler, completed the selection of the Family God, assud the position of the new Family Head, and then announced it to the Seven Cities.
By that ti, with the dust settled and legitimacy in hand, the situation would be entirely different.
Then, the one to be besieged by the Seven Cities and eradicated by Thousand Islands would certainly be Minkler, who was solidly incriminated for collaborating with outsiders, acting against his own people.
But... where did his confidence co from?
Ji Jue pondered, recalling Bogio's deanor as he left, and for a mont, he seed to see sothing behind Bogio, as if there was sothing else.
Soone else following closely.
.
.
"Store away the Holy Oil and the account book."
In his reception room, Bogio looked at his assistant in front of him. "After the ceremony is over, if I don't contact you, don't show up."
"Young master..."
The assistant was in a daze, incredulous.
Not shocked by the arduousness of the task, but worried by Bogio's manner and the possibility it symbolized.
Could he really lose?
"Rest assured, it's just to be on the safe side."
Bogio puffed on a cigar, expressionless. "In the art of war of the Federation, if victory is not assured, one must first consider defeat. Minkler's determination is abnormally firm, and precautions must be taken.
If we really lose, the Holy Oil and the account book will not be handed over, and I will see how he plans to be the Family Head without commanding the Family God or controlling the assets!"
"I understand."
The assistant nodded, not daring to ask more, hurriedly gathered the items, picked up the suitcase, and walked out the door.
Listening to the footsteps grow distant, a ghostly laughter erged and vanished within the smoke, with an eerie, aged face partly seen, whispering like a specter, "You're still too cautious, child. With such thorough preparation, how could anything go amiss? When necessary, even the Good Abbot Dharma King from the distant Lower Court will support you.
You needn't worry about the won of the Heavenly Heart Society, as soone else will handle them. As for Minkler, once the ceremony begins, there will naturally be opportunities to act."
"Then I shall trouble you, grandfather."
With respect, Bogio bowed his head, "It's not easy for Thousand Islands to establish itself. The future of the Chopra family depends on the care of the Masters from Wulou Temple."
The faint sound of laughter rose and faded away.
The face vanished along with the smoke.
.
.
After intense preparations, the sacrificial offering for the Chopra family began in the afternoon.
Like all large-scale ceremonies, it was ticulously focused on detail, scrutinizing every aspect with utmost precision, allowing no mistakes at any stage, no matter how trivial.
Especially when there's no need for simplicity, speed, or haste, it becos even more troubleso...
For ordinary families, ancestral worship might an gathering the family, burning incense, bowing, or kowtowing in front of ancestral portraits. But the Chopra family's arrangents were no longer satisfied with just wearing themselves out; it dragged the entire Xiang State along as well.
The vast city saw its ports closed and traffic halted.
All places were to remain silent; no music allowed, no drinking and revelry permitted, all entertainnt venues were to remain shut down, and when necessary, everyone had to stand and bow towards the mountaintop following the broadcast.
The reason no kowtowing was required was because most people weren't even qualified to kowtow.
Now, Ji Jue finally understood why the Tyrants loved Thousand Islands so much. Who wouldn't love it? Behind closed doors, they could do as they pleased, with authoritarian power, achieving whatever they desired without hindrance.
A local emperor is still an emperor, and more of an emperor.
The entire ceremony was lengthy and cumberso. All mbers of the Chopra family gathered densely at the highest peak, in front of the family temple, arranged by bloodline and status to offer sacrifices to the ancestors, following various complex etiquettes and customs.
But the display and style of this family temple...
It can only be said to be uniquely pieced together, half resembling a shrine of a large family of the Federation, half like a sacred place of so imperial religious sect, and the rest filled with dense Thousand Islands-style ornants, emphasizing a motif of stringing together.
Extrely closed off, extrely ignorant, or extrely open, extrely pieced together.
Even things like the Family God, products of the Ascension Series, had their roots in the Empire's family fire faith and the Federation's ancestor worship.
Also mixed with a heap of strange traditions and ceremonies from the Thousand Islands, growing wild and unchecked to the current form.
Through the sacrifice, ancestors are transford into spirits.
But the so-called spirits... are no different from evil spirits, perhaps even more ravenous than evil spirits!
At the deepest part of the family temple, the fla that has burned for hundreds of years is so brilliant, its pure white hue appearing sacred beyond compare, with the curtain of perception dividing two completely different worlds.
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