At 3:45 AM, the sunlight slanted through the nine copper nails on the Danfeng Gate, casting interplay of light and shadow on the golden brick floor of the Golden Palace.
As the purple-robed Taoist priest stepped across the threshold, the black iron token at his waist collided with the peach wood sword, producing a clear and melodious sound that startled the golden dragon sculpture holding a pearl on the eaves, causing it to glow faintly.
The Bagua diagram embroidered in gold thread on the Taoist robe flowed with each step, breathing mist as if it were alive, even refracting the gazes cast by the surrounding courtiers into tiny starlight.
"May you enjoy boundless longevity and happiness." As the aged voice rang out, the blue smoke in the incense burner suddenly condensed and twisted eerily in the air into the shape of the Xun trigram.
The Taoist priest's silver hair fell like frost and snow, brushing against the ancient jade plaque at his waist engraved with the two characters "Tian Shu".
The air currents created by the fluttering of the wide sleeves caused the crane insignia on the court robes of the third-rank official standing below to tremble slightly.
When those bloodshot yet deep, ancient eyes swept across the dragon throne.
Ning Chenyi's knuckles, gripping the jade thumb ring, suddenly turned white—his gaze seemed to pierce through the twelve tassels of the crown, reaching the anxiety he had hidden while reviewing memorials last night.
The hall was completely silent, save for the ticking of the water clock.
The Vice Minister of Justice quietly tugged at the sleeve of the Vice Minister of Rites beside him. Beneath the embroidered cloud-patterned cuffs, their fingertips simultaneously touched the cold sweat on each other's palms.
Unlike the charlatanic sorcerers of the past, the old man before them exuded a calm and composed aura, like the sound of pine trees in the wind.
The Twenty-Eight Mansions pattern outlined in gold thread on the hem of the Taoist robe appeared and disappeared with each breath, as if the entire starry sky were draped over the body.
"This...this kind of weather..." The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review lowered his voice, swallowing hard as his Adam's apple bobbed.
He suddenly remembered that ten years ago, when he accompanied the late emperor on an inspection tour, he had seen an old Taoist priest in seclusion in the Zhongnan Mountains.
The ancient cypress in front of the Taoist temple was scorched by lightning, yet green vines still entwine and grow there. The aura emanating from the purple-robed Taoist priest was remarkably similar to that of the cypress.
Ning Chenyi's thoughts were pulled back to reality by the coolness of the jade pendant at his waist.
He recalled the banquet the night before his father's tour, where the retired emperor played with a jade thumb ring, the candlelight reflecting a smile hidden in the wrinkles around his eyes.
"Chen Yi, if you encounter an extraordinary person, never treat them with disrespect."
At this moment, the golden scales on the dragon pillar beside the dragon throne gleamed with a cold light, reflecting the dark clouds gathered between the Taoist priest's brows.
The Emperor glanced at Eunuch Li without leaving a trace, and Eunuch Li immediately bowed and withdrew.
As the golden whisk swept across the blue bricks, it stirred up a few wisps of unburnt ambergris, which traced winding paths in the air.
When a strange gust of wind suddenly whipped up the emerald feathers of the peacock screen, Ning Chenyi's fingertips dug deeply into the bright yellow dragon pattern on the armrest of the dragon throne.
He saw the peach wood sword in the Taoist priest's sleeve suddenly tremble, and the nine-section copper bell tied to the sword tassel moved automatically without wind.
The sunlight at dawn slanted through the glazed windows of the Golden Palace, casting mottled shadows of dragon patterns on the golden brick floor.
The Taoist priest in purple robes stood beneath the steps, his aura like a frigid pool in late autumn, freezing even the whispers of the emperor and his ministers in the hall into frost.
When he looked up at Ning Chenyi on the dragon throne, a faint blue light appeared deep in his turbid pupils.
The black iron token at his waist suddenly emitted a buzzing sound, startling the armor of the guards holding halberds below the steps, causing them to tremble slightly.
"This face..." The Taoist priest murmured hoarsely, his withered fingers already forming a hand seal.
The golden Bagua diagram on the Taoist robe suddenly swirled, transforming into twelve golden rays that hovered around the cuffs, as if the power of stars was awakening within the patterns.
As the deductions deepened, a pale blue mist rose around him, obscuring the faces of the officials behind him.
Only the luminous pearl inlaid on the peach wood sword emitted a dazzling white light, making the veins on his forehead throb.
No one in the hall dared to utter a sound. The Minister of Revenue's palms, gripping his ceremonial tablet, were damp with cold sweat, making the ivory material slippery.
The Imperial Censor stared intently at the Taoist priest's rapidly moving fingers, even the mythical beast emblem on his court robes swayed slightly.
The once bustling imperial court was now eerily silent, with only the sound of the water clock echoing between the beams and pillars, mixed with the scent of ambergris, making it hard to breathe.
Many officials' eyes unconsciously drifted to the empty space on the right—the place where King Jinrui Zhao stood every morning during court.
Now the place is empty, with only the sunlight casting a narrow shadow on the gold bricks.
The Vice Minister of War recalled the abilities of Prince Zhao. If the prince were present at this moment, he would surely know the Taoist priest's origins.
But right now, King Zhao is on leave, and they have to clear away this fog of mystery themselves.
Ning Chenyi's gaze suddenly turned to Qin Shouzhen, the head of the civil officials.
Qin Xiang lowered his eyes and stared at the tablet in his hand, the ivory surface reflecting the twitching corners of his mouth.
How could he not know the expectation in His Majesty's eyes? But he wasn't Luo'er; without the help of the Feng Qingyun system, how could he know everything?
A sudden whirlwind arose outside the hall, swirling withered leaves that crashed against the dragon pillar, making a soft rustling sound, almost like someone sneering in the shadows.
Qin Shouzhen sighed inwardly, quietly shifting his court boots to hide his shadow behind his colleagues.
The dragon-patterned ceiling of the Golden Palace gleamed coldly under the candlelight. Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew by, twisting the smoke rising from the incense burner into a spiral shape.
The purple-robed Taoist priest was surrounded by swirling blue mist, and the Big Dipper pattern embroidered in gold thread on his robe suddenly twisted and deformed.
It transformed into countless scarlet blood lines that wandered through the fabric, as if living creatures were darting across the brocade.
As the last incantation, sounding like Sanskrit, fell to the ground, his pupils suddenly dilated.
His bloodshot eyes reflected a chaotic star map, and blood overflowing from the corner of his mouth trickled down his snow-white beard, blooming into eerie red plum blossoms on his Taoist robe.
Even more terrifying is that when the blood droplets fell to the ground, they did not seep into the gold bricks. Instead, they condensed into tiny runes on the surface, like some kind of ancient warning.
Ning Chenyi gripped the armrests of the dragon throne tightly, the gilded dragon pattern digging painfully into his palms, his knuckles turning white as frost.
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