Cangshan Mountain was perpetually wreathed in cloud and mist, like a realm of immortals. Few people ventured there; the vegetation was vigorous and full of vitality, making it a place most suited to the secluded cultivation of those who walked the Dao. At the very summit, in particular, the terrain rose so high that one felt as though stretching out a hand could touch the sky — as if heaven itself were within reach. It was there that the National Preceptor had established his true place of secluded cultivation, known as the Canglan Cave Heaven.

Midway up the mountain, a few temple pavilions had been built. It was here that Tantai, the Imperial Princess, and Lang Jiuchuan had grown up since childhood.

Setting foot once more upon the residences of Cangshan Mountain and looking upon the familiar, unchanged arrangement within the cultivation chamber, Tantai, the Imperial Princess found her heart far from its former calm and clarity — it was tangled now with a great many thoughts.

It was the news Lang Jiuchuan had brought that had unsettled her mind.

Tantai, the Imperial Princess, dared not go before the National Preceptor in such a state of mind. Nor did she dare barge in uninvited. Instead, she first petitioned the National Preceptor for an audience, requesting permission to pay her respects.

While awaiting a reply, she settled herself at the writing table, formed a complex series of hand seals, and let the spiritual energy circulate throughout her body. She gathered a force of power and pressed it down upon her spiritual platform and sea of consciousness.

She was placing a soul-sealing restriction upon herself.

The moment the restriction was set, her complexion — already pallid and haggard from days of exhausting herself combating the corpse-plague epidemic — became even paler and more wan.

“Ah-Qing, come before me.”

Tantai, the Imperial Princess gave a faint shiver, drew a deep breath, and rose with composed and deliberate movements.

She walked out of the cultivation chamber, and — for reasons she herself could not quite name — glanced back over her shoulder at the interior, taking in every detail of the furnishings within. Her gaze finally came to rest on a five-element landscape painting hanging on the wall. She committed the immature brushwork etched upon it deeply to memory.

That five-element landscape painting depicted Cangshan Mountain. It was something she and Lang Jiuchuan had painted together, arranged according to five-element geomancy, and hung within her cultivation chamber.

She withdrew her gaze and closed the wooden door behind her. Her slender figure cast a long shadow — there was something about her that evoked the sense of one about to ride the wind away.

Setting foot once more into the Canglan Cave Heaven where the National Preceptor cultivated in seclusion, that bone-deep chill and pressure — one that seemed capable of freezing the very soul — was achingly familiar to Tantai, the Imperial Princess, and yet it still left her breathless.

“I pay my respects to Master.” Tantai, the Imperial Princess knelt and bowed before the man seated on the meditation cushion, pressing her forehead to the ground. Only when she heard him bid her rise did she lift her gaze toward the National Preceptor — and at the sight of him, she drew in a sharp, involuntary breath. “Master, what has happened to you?”

The National Preceptor narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “Frightened?”

Tantai, the Imperial Princess nodded. “Is it because of the backlash from the willpower?”

She examined him closely. Though a current of energy still circulated around his body, his entire person was unnaturally aged and withered — carrying the visceral impression of a man on the verge of death, enough to make anyone’s heart seize.

The last time she had seen him, he still bore the air of an otherworldly immortal — graceful, divine, like a celestial being exiled to the mortal realm. Yet in less than half a year, how had he become this shrunken, dried-out old man, utterly drained of vitality, as though someone had sucked out every last drop of his essence and spirit?

If she were told he would die tomorrow, Tantai, the Imperial Princess would not doubt it for a moment. Why had it come to this — was it truly only the backlash from the willpower, or was there a deeper cause? For instance, had this body simply been used up?

The National Preceptor’s current state, seen from a different angle, corroborated what Lang Jiuchuan had said — that he was an ancient monster who had survived by repeatedly seizing the bodies of his own descendants. Now, it seemed, the lifespan of this particular body had run its course. Who would be his next target?

The National Preceptor gave no reply to her question. He spoke slowly. “Calamities and disasters have been occurring frequently below the mountain. Why have you come here instead of presiding over matters in Wu Jing?”

Tantai, the Imperial Princess suppressed the dread rising in her heart. Her beautiful, striking face was cold, and she could not fully conceal the indignation in her voice. “When Elder Ancestor descended the mountain in those days, you warned your disciple that only if Dahan remained stable could the Tantai clan remain stable — that this was a blessing for the common people. Yet when the corpse-plague epidemic broke out, you never stepped forward. That runs contrary to everything you taught about stability. Why is this so?”

“So you have come to question your master?” A thread of coldness entered the National Preceptor’s voice. She had grown bold — daring to interrogate him.

“Your disciple would not dare.” Tantai, the Imperial Princess lowered her gaze. “Your disciple is simply confused and uneasy. Master’s powers are formidable — a mere corpse-plague epidemic should be no difficulty for you. It would also have been an act of great merit. Why did you stand by and watch? Now Lang Jiuchuan has developed the antidote and claimed all the credit — she is revered and believed in by the common people. And on the opposite end, Master’s reputation is in decline. As one side rises, the other falls. This willpower of belief may turn completely against you, making it impossible for Dahan to remain stable, while the dignity of the Tantai clan also becomes difficult to preserve, and you, Master, will…” She paused. “Your disciple believes that Lang Jiuchuan is someone who could shake the very foundations of our Dahan. Does she need to be dealt with, to make clear what is right and just?”

The National Preceptor seemed to have heard something laughable. “A clown leaping about on a stage — hardly worth a thought. The will of the people is like water: it can carry a boat, and it can capsize one. Once her usefulness is exhausted, she will find her proper resting place. As for you — to be thrown off balance by such a trivial matter — how could your master dare entrust you with weighty responsibilities?”

Tantai, the Imperial Princess heard the indifference in his tone and the sense of absolute control, and a chill settled in her heart. In his eyes, was Lang Jiuchuan nothing more than an autumn grasshopper he could crush at will?

And what of herself, and all her clanspeople — were they not the same?

The long lashes of Tantai, the Imperial Princess veiled her eyes. “You did not say so before. Anyone who shakes the foundations of our Dahan is to be executed without exception. Master, the Canglan Hall was struck by heavenly fire, and many shrines housing your divine effigies were also damaged. Whether this is truly Heaven’s rebuke or human orchestration — Master, with your vast and all-seeing powers, you should already know the answer.”

The National Preceptor was silent. He raised his eyelids, and within those still, fathomless eyes, a strange light flickered past. His cold gaze fell upon her, as though he had seen through her entirely.

An invisible pressure clamped down upon Tantai, the Imperial Princess, and a sheen of sweat quickly appeared on her brow — yet the expression on her face remained composed and cold.

Stall a little longer. Just a little longer.

“You have talked a great deal tonight. This is unlike your usual self.” The National Preceptor rose and slowly walked toward her, looking down upon her from above, scrutinizing her. “Are you concealing something from me?”

Something was off. Tantai, the Imperial Princess was not the type to be verbose. Even when she yearned for his attention and praise, she would only seek it silently within herself — it would never overflow into words, and she would certainly never become this talkative.

She and Lang Jiuchuan were of two opposite temperaments. One cold, one warm.

Yet now, Tantai, the Imperial Princess had suddenly become lively and talkative — utterly unlike her usual composed and restrained manner. What she had said seemed aimed at holding Lang Jiuchuan accountable, yet she had never gotten to the heart of the matter.

It had the deliberate feel of something done on purpose.

Tantai, the Imperial Princess dared not raise her head. She prostrated herself, steadying her mind with great effort. “Your disciple is only worried about the foundations of Dahan. The celestial trajectories have shifted — your disciple fears the nation’s fortune may fall to another.”

“Is that so? Raise your head.” The National Preceptor’s lips curved into a cold arc, his gaze entirely contemptuous. “Are you trying to cover for Lang Jiuchuan? You already knew who she was, and yet you spoke as you did deliberately. Why — what do you know?”

The heart of Tantai, the Imperial Princess lurched violently. Her face drained of color in an instant, and she could not stop herself from looking up — only to meet his eyes, dark and still as a frozen abyss, which captured the entirety of her soul with unerring precision.

She was seized with terror. Before she could react, a consciousness vast as an ocean of stars and cold as glacial ice — like an invisible, sinister blade of frost — came crashing through and invaded her sea of consciousness.

A soul-search.