Mainland Martial Arts

Chapter 401 The Royal Ancestor

Jiujiusi nodded quickly and said, "Your Majesty is wise. I will do my best to make proper arrangements." There was a hint of determination in his eyes, and he secretly swore in his heart that he must avenge the people of Xihai City and Lord Shi Huang, and also for the peace of the empire.

Recalling this, the Emperor was awakened from his deep thoughts. He sighed deeply, as if to expel all the troubles and worries in his heart. He slowly stood up and walked out of the imperial study with heavy steps.

The night was deep in the Imperial Palace. Moonlight shone like water on the glazed tiles, casting a cold glow. Under the moonlight, the Emperor's figure appeared lonely and forlorn. He walked along the long corridor, step by step, towards the cold palace. The palace lanterns on both sides of the corridor swayed in the breeze, their lights and shadows flickering, as if countless pairs of eyes were silently watching him.

The Emperor entered the cold palace, where everything seemed dilapidated and desolate. The variegated brickwork on the walls seemed to tell of past prosperity and present desolation. Weeds grew in the corners, trembling in the wind, as if sensing the desolation. The Emperor walked directly behind a large screen, his eyes focused and mysterious. He glanced at the ground, then gently waved his sleeve. As if manipulated by an invisible hand, several candles slowly appeared on the ground and quickly arranged themselves into a strange pattern. The pattern, with its complex shapes and sinuous lines, seemed to contain some ancient and mysterious power.

The Emperor stood at the center of the pattern, his expression solemn and serious, his eyes revealing a hint of determination. Suddenly, his body began to emit a soft light. At first, it was faint, like a few fireflies, but gradually, the light grew stronger, enveloping his entire body. The Emperor's figure became slightly blurred in the light, as if gradually merging with it. Then, his body transformed into countless points of light, like brilliant stars that dissipated in the night sky. Only the burning candle remained, flickering quietly in its place, as if guarding the space where the mysterious event once took place.

The mysterious world beneath the cold palace feels like a corner forgotten by time. Here, the terrain is as flat as a mirror, and lush trees rise from the vast expanse. Their intertwined branches and leaves block out the sun, casting only specks of light. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves, telling an ancient and mysterious story.

At the center of the lake, several elderly men sat silently by its shore, like ancient statues. Their hair, beards, and eyebrows had all turned gray, like the first snow of winter, covering their faces and the corners of their lips. The wrinkles on their faces, as if carved by a knife or an axe, lay one after another, crisscrossing each other, the marks left by the relentless flow of time. Each wrinkle seemed to conceal a forgotten past. A rough estimate suggested their faces were at least a hundred years old. The yellow robes they wore should have embodied nobility, but now the fabric looked old and dull, exuding a faint smell of decay. At first glance, they looked like the corpses of royal ancestors, frozen in time. While their forms remained, their vitality had long since vanished, leaving only the hollow "shells" that silently witnessed the passage of time.

A thatched cottage stood quietly by the lake, seemingly simple and shabby. Inside, several rustic beds were placed. The wood looked old, the grain rough and dark. A wooden table stood in the center, its surface uneven and uneven, as if it bore countless hardships. Several chairs leaned against the table at an angle, as if they would fall to the ground with a gust of wind. In the corner, a few candles lay quietly on a blanket, their appearance identical to the ones the emperor had used in the cold palace, as if some mysterious bond connected the two.

Instantly, the silence was shattered. As if gently touched by an invisible, ghostly hand, the candle on the blanket erupted into a blue flame, igniting spontaneously. Then, countless points of light, like fireflies on a summer night, flickered and appeared out of thin air, leaping and dancing joyfully before slowly converging towards the center. At first, it was just a hazy halo of light blending. Slowly, a vague human figure began to emerge. As the points of light continued to pour in, the figure became more distinct, its limbs, torso, and face finally forming. Finally, the Emperor appeared fully formed, standing at the center of the candle pattern. The light gradually dimmed until it vanished completely. The Emperor adjusted his posture slightly, stepped steadily out of the pattern, and turned toward the exit of the thatched hut.

His steps were steady yet slightly heavy, and with each step, one could hear the echo of worry deep within him. Leaving the thatched hut, the Emperor headed straight for the elderly men fishing by the lake. His expression was solemn and respectful. He approached the elders, placed his feet together, clasped his hands high in the air, and bowed deeply. At the same time, he spoke loudly, "Greetings, Elders." The voice, filled with a sense of awe and respect, echoed in this silent little world for a long time.

One of the elders had a deep, calm gaze, as if none of the world's turmoil could stir a ripple in his heart. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting from the tranquil lake to the Emperor. He opened his lips and spoke slowly, "Since you're here, sit down and join us fishing." His voice was deep and hoarse, like the muffled echo of an ancient bell amidst the dust of time. Though not loud, it held an irresistible authority, as if his words were the laws of this small world, unquestionable and unbreachable.

The Emperor obeyed, slowly moving forward to the empty seat beside the old man and taking a seat. He reached out, his fingertips gently touching the prepared fishing rod. The cold, rough feel made his heart tighten slightly. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Then, deftly picking up the bait, he gently pinched a small ball and carefully placed it on the hook. His expression was so focused that it seemed as if the fate of the entire empire lay on the hook. Then, he raised his arm slightly, flicked his wrist, and the fishing line, like a nimble snake, traced a graceful arc through the air. Then, with a soft plop, it fell into the lake, creating a small splash.

The emperor's gaze sank into the lake along with the fishing line. After a moment of silence, he finally couldn't help but break the silence. He turned to look at the old man known as Ancestor Qianyu, his brows tightly furrowed, his eyes full of anxiety and uneasiness, and said with a trembling voice: "Ancestor Qianyu, the Demon Cult has revived and has now occupied Xihai City. It has formed its own country and called it the Taiping Empire." As he spoke, he unconsciously tightened the fishing rod in his hand. The fishing rod seemed to make a slight "creaking" sound under his force, as if wailing for the fate of the empire.