The man standing high on the city wall maintained a straight posture, his tall form outlined by sunlight, clear as a figure in a painting.

Xu Pingran slightly raised her chin, staring at the man before her. Somehow, her heart felt disturbed, so much so that a fleeting question from earlier was temporarily set aside. The contours of the person before her had a vaguely familiar feeling—a familiarity so distant and strange that she rarely felt somewhat confused.

She narrowed her eyes, wanting to see this person’s face clearly, but because Yelu Qi was backlit, his facial features and form were just a silhouette edged with golden light, making his face indiscernible.

A scene suddenly flashed through Xu Pingran’s mind… misty rain and flying clouds, green mountain paths, light water vapor, a young woman standing beside a bluestone carved with red Kunlun characters, watching a tall young man walking up the stone steps with light footsteps. He carried twin swords, had black hair, and on his clean white forehead, a pair of eyebrows seemed ready to fly through the sky. Suddenly looking up and seeing the young woman, he smiled: “Could this be Ninth Senior Sister? This junior brother pays his respects.”

She heard the young woman’s faint smile: “At least with a Tenth Junior Brother, among the disciples of Kunlun Palace, I’m finally not the youngest anymore.”

That moment of shared smiles, with light clouds and mist drifting through the mountains like ink wash painting.

The past would eventually fade like aged ink stains. Years later, unfolding old papers would only reveal the crisscross wrinkles and yellowed traces of time.

Xu Pingran sighed quietly in her heart.

She didn’t know why at this moment, at this time, she would remember this distant first meeting that seemed long forgotten. Perhaps it was because the young man before her had a height and build similar to Murong’s, and his temperament was somewhat like his from those years.

However, there were too many similar people in this world.

Her gaze slid away from Yelu Qi and suddenly turned toward Zou Zheng behind her.

Zou Zheng was hiding behind her. When her gaze found him, he felt as if stabbed by a dagger, his heart shaking, vaguely sensing he had made a grave mistake.

But Xu Pingran had already spoken: “Where is the imperial seal?”

Zou Zheng was stunned, stepped back, and said coldly: “Now is not the time.”

“Now is not the time?” Xu Pingran’s eyes slowly made a full circle. Zou Zheng felt his whole body go numb under this gaze, feeling it was filled with disgust, different from their first meeting days ago. Then he heard her say: “How about if I hand you over to Jing Hengbo? Would that be the right time?”

Zou Zheng was greatly alarmed and retreated rapidly. But Xu Pingran had already reached out to grab him, coldly laughing: “A fake daring to deceive me… Gong Yin, come out!”

The last sentence suddenly raised in volume, shocking Zou Zheng so his mind thundered. His legs went weak, and with a “rip,” his clothing tore. A small yellow silk-wrapped object bounced out, which Xu Pingran caught with one hand.

Zou Zheng looked down in disbelief—there was indeed a large tear in the precious armor at his chest. If the imperial seal hadn’t been hidden there and rolled out to block Xu Pingran’s grab, that hole would now be in his heart.

What was happening? Wasn’t this precious protective golden silk armor? It had clearly been tested before!

His mind was in chaos, but there was no time to think. While Jing Hengbo seemed lost in thought and Xu Pingran was examining the imperial seal, he hurriedly tried to retreat. But the ground seemed to have suddenly grown frost—a bone-chilling cold shot up from his feet to his knees, and his lower body’s blood seemed frozen, unable to move.

He was greatly shocked. Before he could call for rescue, Xu Pingran suddenly gave a cold laugh: “So you are indeed here!”

With a thunderous crash in her laughter, the city wall beneath Zou Zheng and the tower behind him suddenly exploded. Broken bricks mixed with frost and snow flew everywhere, accompanied by soldiers’ screams. Among them, one particularly sharp scream stood out. Jing Hengbo, who had been lost in thought, suddenly looked up and saw a vaguely slender figure flash behind the exploded tower—

She suddenly raised her head, about to dash over to see what was happening, when the city wall ground exploded and a figure shot out—snow-white and graceful, flashing like a dragon. That figure’s posture was so familiar it was like lightning striking her head. She trembled all over, wanting to rush forward, wanting to scream, wanting to say many things. Countless chaotic emotions suddenly surged from her heart. She felt hot all over yet cold, her heart pounding wildly while her fingers were stiff as wood. She actually froze in place, unable to move.

The slender figure in the smoke and dust looked back once, also showing alarm, and slipped away even faster toward below the tower. At this moment, no one could pay attention to her—everyone had their own shock.

Xu Pingran’s shock contained a hint of smug “as expected” satisfaction. Seeing the white shadow from the exploded tower indeed rushing straight toward her, she coldly laughed: “So you really wanted to use a fake to trick me into accepting the throne, making me fulfill that ancient curse! Did you really think such inferior goods—”

In her cold laughter, she gestured with her hand. Everyone suddenly felt a strange cold as if autumn snow were about to fall, unconsciously hugging their arms and shivering while looking at the sky. But the sky still had the same sunshine—only the yellow dust mixed with ice and snow rising all around crashed and exploded. The rolling dust clouds opened, and every piece of broken brick and tile seemed to suddenly double in size as they flew out, wrapped in ice and snow, hard as giant hailstones. The flying snow around became even fiercer, hazily enveloping the entire city wall so that even human forms were invisible.

The ten thousand troops below held their breath, looking up at the city wall—watching changes arise, watching tall buildings explode, watching autumn snow fly, wrapping heaven and earth, sun and moon.

Vision on the city wall was unclear. Yelu Qi couldn’t attend to killing Xu Pingran and rushed toward where he remembered Jing Hengbo to be, but Jing Hengbo had already left her original position, rushing toward where Xu Pingran and the white figure were. Xu Pingran only stared at the white-clothed figure, using exactly the same grabbing motion she had used on Zou Zheng.

This was a move used only by someone whose martial arts were vastly superior, otherwise it would be easily avoided or countered. Yet Xu Pingran seemed overconfident, stubbornly charging in that direction.

The white figure dodged with flowing grace, completely ethereal, indeed incomparable to Zou Zheng. As he shifted positions, something in his hand made a “whoosh” sound, and a silver chain suddenly sprang from an unexpected angle, viciously snapping toward Xu Pingran’s ribs.

Xu Pingran acted as if she hadn’t seen Gong Yin’s signature weapon, not changing her move at all, carrying through with her grab to the end. As her fingers were about to brush past the opponent, she suddenly threw something, then flicked.

With a light sound, something was tossed into the white-clothed man’s sleeve.

In the scattered snow and broken earth, that object had a lustrous sheen—clearly the imperial seal.

Xu Pingran threw the imperial seal into the opponent’s sleeve, then reached to grab his wrist—as long as she controlled the opponent and he personally handed her the imperial seal, the throne transfer ceremony would be complete, and the curse shadow hanging over the founding empress’s family would be broken!

Behind her came sword energy and blade light, stern and fierce. She ignored everything, leaning back in a slide, risking sliding past the white-clothed man’s side to avoid those two killing moves, reaching to grab his wrist—

At this moment, her ears thundered with sounds that had echoed endlessly for hundreds of years.

“…Xu Chan, your parents died of starvation in the famine and voluntarily sold themselves into my Longyingshi family as slaves. Do you know that once you enter my Longyingshi family, your bloodline and descendants, generation after generation, can only be servants of my Long family, never to leave, never to rebel?”

“I know!”

“Make a blood oath then.”

“I, Xu Chan, now graciously accepted by the Longyingshi family, will never betray them hereafter. Whatever I possess, whatever I gain, along with my descendants and bloodline, all belong to the Long family. If I violate this oath, then wealth will not last long, glory will not be enjoyed, and generation after generation will not meet good ends!”

“…Chaotic times are beginning, heroes compete for power. This is exactly when heroes can achieve great things. Order the three teams of shadow guards to immediately execute assassinations of various lords. If the mission fails, don’t bother returning. If successful, rewards will be given afterward—a city!”

“Thank you, Family Head!”

“Xu Chan, your achievements this time are outstanding. You may choose a city to govern!”

“Thank you, Family Head!”

“Xu Chan, who gave you permission to build your own army and ignore family orders?”

“Xu Chan, why didn’t you rescue the family when they were besieged at Diqiu?”

“Xu Chan, thirteen urgent family orders commanded you to stop advancing immediately, not to take another step, and especially not to enter Shouqiu territory!”

“Xu Chan, your wild ambitions and betrayal of the family head will bring divine punishment!”

“Xu Chan, have you forgotten the blood oath you made when entering the Longyingshi family? That was a rotating oath made with all our great shamans’ power combined. Everything you have should belong to the Long family!”

“Even if my Longyingshi family is destroyed here today, you Xu Chan cannot hope for lasting imperial rule! Unless my Long family allows it, your throne can only last one generation! If you pass the throne to descendants, if your descendants seize the imperial throne, then generation after generation will not meet good ends!”

…

These records in the empress’s secret annals were known only to the empress’s lineage. The empress originally didn’t fear the curse, but unexpectedly everything afterward came true. She passed the throne to the crown prince, who died. She established a new crown prince, who also died suddenly. With no choice, the last daughter was sent away under the pretense of death, hiding for hundreds of years, quietly reproducing for over a dozen generations. Every generation waited for an opportunity and chance to reclaim the imperial throne…

The strange structure of Dahuang, the empress’s reincarnation system—the true background of their formation was actually related to this most fundamental purpose. Everything was the path laid by that woman who, bound by oath, had to give up imperial succession hundreds of years ago, for the eventual return a century later.

Hundreds of years of traveling that road, the path seemed before her yet also seemed ever more distant. This Dahuang empire belonging to her Xu family was close at hand yet far as the horizon.

Today, the horizon suddenly arrived before her eyes.

The corners of her lips slowly curved upward.

If a descendant of the Longyingshi family took the throne then returned it to Xu family descendants, that wouldn’t count as a throne passed down by the Xu family, would it? It would mean the Long family had already forgiven and allowed it!

A hundred years of planning, a hundred years of endurance, a hundred years of waiting—the founding empress’s expectation was right before her eyes…

She leaned back and slid, about to grab the opponent’s wrist.

That wrist suddenly lifted, faster than her, fingers flicking. A stream of light flew into her hand with a “pop,” and she couldn’t let go in time.

It felt warm and smooth to the touch.

Her heart stirred, and looking down, it was indeed the imperial seal.

The opponent had thrown the imperial seal back to her even faster!

She was delighted, then alarmed—things going beyond expectation always made one feel something was wrong.

But it was already too late. She had already grasped the imperial seal, meaning the throne transfer was complete.

A lifelong aspiration was finally achieved. She thought she should be ecstatic, but at this moment, holding this supreme symbol of Dahuang, her heart only felt bewildered and faintly uneasy.

A white shadow flashed before her, seeming to want to leave through the city wall breach. She instinctively pursued, but behind her came a faint fragrant breeze. She knew Jing Hengbo had arrived. Just as she was about to act, a silver-black figure suddenly knocked Jing Hengbo aside, blocking her path. A sword light like autumn water again lay horizontally before her.

…

While throne succession and standoffs occurred in the snow and mist atop the city wall, in a pre-prepared hidden chamber below, someone rubbed their hands together and breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Good, it’s done. Our mission is complete.”

“Master truly has divine foresight. That old witch was indeed suspicious.”

“That fake was just a pustule—how could we expect him to fool that vixen? Sigh, today I can finally end these long days without seeing sunlight. Every day stuck in this city wall hole training another fake, pretending to be dead and unable to show myself—I was suffocating to death.”

“This training went well though, much better than Zou Zheng. When did the preparation start?”

“As soon as that fake started contacting Mingcheng, Master had me find another one.”

“Master left two streams of true qi—one for Zou Zheng to initially fool the old witch, one for fake number two to finally fool the old witch. Now, great success! The Dahuang throne—she finally seized it herself, hahaha!”

“Hahaha, congratulations Meng Hu, you can finally leave Dige to find Master!”

“Hahaha, congratulations Yu Chun, you finally don’t have to face a bunch of fakes anymore!”

…