The Emperor stood with his hands behind his back beneath the dragon pillar, the gold embroidery on his black dragon robe gleaming coldly with each movement.
The twelve symbols of imperial authority appear and disappear amidst the interplay of light and shadow, seemingly silently proclaiming the emperor's majesty.
When his gaze inadvertently met that of the Imperial Preceptor, that look, filled with inquiry and doubt, pierced his heart with the precision of a silver needle tempered with ice.
The gilded dragon-patterned candlesticks on the dragon throne flickered, their wax dripping and forming winding trails, like wet tear stains.
Memories flooded his mind like a tide, and in a daze, he seemed to have returned to the days of the Eastern Palace.
Back then, when my father sat on this same dragon throne, this was the look in his eyes whenever he suspected me of plotting something sinister—
His deep eyes concealed a turbulent undercurrent; his seemingly calm gaze was actually as sharp as a blade, dissecting his thoughts completely.
At that moment, the familiar sense of oppression suddenly struck, causing him to catch his breath and feel a bitter taste in his throat.
Suddenly, a clear, melodious cry of a crane rang out from outside the hall, shattering the stagnant air in the room.
The emperor forced himself to loosen his clenched fists, only to find that his palms were already damp with cold sweat, and the hem of his dragon robe was slightly wrinkled from being gripped so tightly.
He took a deep breath and slowly walked back to the dragon throne, his dark robes brushing against the cold stone steps, making a soft, rustling sound.
Each step felt like stepping on my own heartbeat, reawakening the long-dormant unease.
"Since the Daoist entered the hall, he has not uttered a single word, and I have not had a chance to inquire about him either," he said, sitting upright on the dragon throne, his deliberately slowed tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension.
His fingers unconsciously traced the dragon pattern on the armrest, as if trying to calm the turmoil in his heart.
Yu Ji's body, which had been tense, relaxed slightly after she realized there was no need to run away, like a bowstring being released. However, a hint of wariness still lingered in her eyes.
Her gaze was sharp, once again fixing firmly on the purple-robed Taoist priest, as she pondered to herself.
The opponent's profound skill is like an insurmountable mountain; rashly interrupting could very likely trigger an unpredictable danger.
Therefore, he could only suppress his anxiety and silently wait for the purple-robed Taoist priest to stop what he was doing.
At this moment, everyone around was enveloped by the tense atmosphere, their eyes fixed on the purple-robed Taoist priest, as if they had been frozen in place.
Everyone held their breath, as if the slightest breath would break the suffocating silence, and everyone thought that the purple-robed Taoist priest would vomit blood and collapse to the ground in the next second.
The purple-robed Taoist priest's aura was chaotic and disordered, like a flickering candle in a storm, sometimes strong and sometimes weak, extremely unstable.
His hands trembled uncontrollably, as if he had experienced a violent earthquake, and the whisk in his hands shook violently as well. His once neat white beard was now disheveled.
Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and slid down his wrinkled cheeks.
The water dripped onto his deep purple Taoist robe, leaving dark stains that resembled an abstract ink painting.
Finally, under the anxious and tense gazes of everyone, the purple-robed Taoist priest slowly stopped the dazzling series of movements he was making.
His hands fell limply to his sides, as if he had lost all strength, and the whisk in his hands quietly slipped to the ground.
He slowly opened his eyes, which were once bright but were now filled with weariness and despair, as if he had gone through a long and arduous journey, only to lose his way.
He tilted his head slightly back, looked up at the sky, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.
That breath seemed to carry his deep frustration and helplessness, echoing in the silent air, as if bearing endless vicissitudes.
Then, he casually raised his sleeve, which fluttered gently in the wind, and wiped away the shocking crimson stain from the corner of his mouth.
He let out a soft sigh, a sigh that seemed to carry endless helplessness and resentment, striking everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer.
Clearly, he ultimately failed to complete the calculations; the mysterious and complex deductions were like a deep black hole, swallowing up all his efforts.
Upon seeing this, Yu Ji quickly stepped forward, her graceful figure like a butterfly in flight.
She performed a proper junior's greeting, bowing slightly to reveal a section of her fair neck, her expression respectful and devout, her voice gentle and clear.
She spoke as gently as a spring breeze: "I wonder what brings you here from so far away, senior?"
I am fortunate to serve as the National Preceptor of Chengxiao Kingdom. In this kingdom, I have accumulated some connections and resources, and I know some insider secrets that others do not.
Perhaps in some way I can help you, senior, and do my bit to alleviate your worries; I hope you will not hesitate to share your insights.
The purple-robed Taoist priest's hands hung naturally at his sides, and wisps of spiritual energy, like nimble silver snakes, coiled around his fingertips.
Then, like a dream or a bubble, it quietly turned into wisps of smoke and vanished without a trace.
His clear, deep eyes narrowed slightly, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were as deep as if carved by a knife and axe, just like the unique marks left by the years.
A strange and profound light appeared in his pupils, as if piercing through the dust of countless years, scrutinizing and exploring Yu Ji from head to toe.
Suddenly, he let out a soft laugh, a laugh tinged with weariness and a hint of teasing, which echoed softly in the empty Golden Palace, like the lingering sound of an ancient bell.
"Back then, that stubborn old man always said that you were a rough gem that had been covered in dust, and he insisted on hiding you deep in the mountains and carefully carving you, just like protecting his own lifeline."
"Tsk tsk, I never expected him to be willing to let such a gem like you enter the world?"
Yu Ji's body stiffened slightly, and the dazzling flower ornament on her forehead trembled gently with her movement, reflecting a fine and dazzling light.
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