Chapter 7: Kaifeng Part 4

Once the Heavenly Demon was born, it would utterly destroy Shenzhou. As the Wisdom Sword Successor, Xiang Xian’s lifelong mission was to slay it and avert this catastrophe.

Young and arrogant back then, Xiang Xian had believed himself the World’s Number One after slaying the Miluo River Jiao Dragon. Without meeting any of the prerequisites, he relied solely on his divine weapon and ventured to find the Demon Clan Holy Land hidden deep in the Wushan Mountains to challenge the Ba She.

The result, naturally, was that some unidentified enemy taught him a harsh lesson, nearly costing him his life. He was only saved by a passing hermit immortal and returned to the Central Plains in disgrace.

To this day, he still hadn’t figured out who had ambushed him—it was the greatest humiliation of his career.

Xiang Xian said, “Last time, I couldn’t even find the entrance to the Demon Clan Holy Land.”

A Huang said, “Don’t go to dangerous places alone again.”

Xiang Xian said, “I know. I’ll bring you along. It’s just that after all these years of searching, the Heart Lamp still hasn’t turned up.”

A Huang gazed at Xiang Xian. Xiang Xian let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch. The legends of slaying the Heavenly Demon and purifying the world’s baleful qi—he had only read about them in ancient scrolls as a child. He never imagined that this responsibility would one day fall on his own shoulders. That said, how to find the Heavenly Demon, seal it, gather a team of exorcists—it all felt utterly bewildering.

Moreover, the Exorcism Division had only him in it. For something this huge, there wasn’t even anyone to discuss it with.

“I just want to pass on the Wisdom Sword right now.” Xiang Xian felt his eyelids growing heavy. “I thought the Heavenly Demon wouldn’t reincarnate in our lifetime… Sigh.”

“Too late.” A Huang said, “If there’s really only two years left, it’s too late to take on a disciple now. Look at Zhao Gou—do you think he could be your apprentice?”

Xiang Xian hadn’t finished his wine before he fell asleep, slumped against the couch with a faint flush of drunkenness on his face. He slept with his chest bare, resembling a statue of the Martial God. In the latter half of the night, Wu Yingzong entered, draped a blanket over Xiang Xian, and silently withdrew.

“Prince Kang is here again! Prince Kang is here again!”

The two stone lions at the door shouted in unison. One said to the other, “Why did you say ‘again’?”

Unbeknownst to him, dawn had broken. Xiang Xian jolted awake with a hangover headache, hurried off the couch, and rushed to the bedroom to change.

“Make him wait a moment.”

A Huang flapped over and perched on the windowsill. “Accompany you to the palace?”

“No need. You rest.” Xiang Xian said, “I’ll be back soon. In a few days, I’ll have to head out on a long journey again.”

Xiang Xian fastened his belt and hurried out. Zhao Gou, dressed in princely robes, looked utterly exhausted, clearly having tossed and turned all night without sleep.

The morning bells rang out, and all of Kaifeng awoke. The streets and alleys carried the aroma of breakfast. Xiang Xian sniffed the air and reined in his horse.

“Big Brother, sober up first.” Zhao Gou said.

“Just what I had in mind.” Xiang Xian downed a large bowl of osmanthus rice wine at a street stall, then remounted and headed toward Wansui Mountain with Zhao Gou.

The Wansui Mountain Imperial Palace was an extremely complex layout, divided into four grand halls and dozens of smaller courtyards. The Main Hall gleamed with gold and jade, forged from the empire’s wealth to showcase the Song’s prosperity.

But Zhao Gou did not stop at the white jade plaza. The Forbidden Army led them toward the Chongwen Court on the western side. Moments later, they dismounted and proceeded on foot. Along the way, strange rocks and flowing waters adorned the path, with courtyards nested within courtyards, evoking the beauty of Jiangnan. The flowers and plants were rare varieties, maple leaves blanketing the ponds in elegant serenity.

A gentle autumn breeze blew in the early morning, and in the distance came the sound of a pipa like falling pearls.

Upon reaching the Chongwen Court, in a half-open side chamber sat a middle-aged man—none other than the Guangyang County King, Tong Guan. Behind him stood dozens of eunuchs, some holding food boxes, others trays with cups at the ready.

The Daojun Emperor Zhao Ji had long lost interest in court politics. The Great Song’s administration had always been handled by powerful ministers like Tong Guan and Cai Jing. Cai Jing had been dismissed earlier that year after a crushing defeat against the Liao Kingdom, amid massive backlash from the court and populace. Now, Tong Guan held sway in the palace; even seeing Zhao Ji required going through this eunuch.

“Ah, Tanhua Lang.” Tong Guan, over fifty with graying hair and a few fake whiskers pasted on his chin, said, “Lord Guo mentioned you just the other day. Such impressive martial virtue you have.”

Xiang Xian returned a cupped-fist salute and said, “Ah! Lord Tong!”

Xiang Xian knew this eunuch loved his sarcastic barbs. As he pondered how to shut him down, Prince Kang Zhao Gou tugged at his sleeve from behind, signaling there was no need to offend him here.