“That is fate,” King Mu said lightly.
Sa Luan did not understand and was about to ask more when they circled back to the throne. This time, Sa Luan noticed a small branch perch beside the throne for a bird to rest on.
The Black Bird stood there, its eyes emitting black flames.
“What must I do now?” Sa Luan asked, rubbing his fists eagerly, impatient to return to the mortal world for revenge.
“You have much to do.” After settling on the throne, King Mu snapped his fingers. Flames erupted from one side of the throne hall, and an unfamiliar Demon Person emerged.
“Mr. Zhao,” King Mu said.
The Demon Person’s voice boomed like a great bell. “Greetings, Heavenly Sovereign.”
“This is Sa Luan,” King Mu said. “Crown Prince of the Liao Kingdom, Prince Yali.”
The towering Demon Person approached Sa Luan and lowered his head slightly to appraise him.
“Mr. Liu has not returned?” the Demon Person asked King Mu.
“Yes,” King Mu repeated. “Mr. Liu has not returned.”
“And Mr. Qin?” the Demon Person pressed.
“He lost too, due to carelessness and underestimation, leading to utter defeat,” King Mu said. “No need to speak of him further. Sa Luan will replace Mr. Qin as one of the Six New Kings of Shenzhou.”
Mr. Zhao fell silent. King Mu said, “Take the New King to learn the ways of kingship. It is yours to handle.”
The Heavenly Demon Palace had clashed with the Mortal World Demon Subduing Division several times, always ending in defeat, but King Mu did not mind. The urgent issue was the shortage of manpower.
Mr. Zhao placed one hand behind his back and gestured to Sa Luan with the other.
When Sa Luan heard himself called “King,” excitement surged uncontrollably through him.
“Mr. Zhao is also a human king,” King Mu said flatly. “You two can get acquainted.”
Sa Luan looked to Mr. Zhao and nodded, but Mr. Zhao did not withdraw, only staring at King Mu.
“What is it?” King Mu asked gravely. “Do you have something to say?”
Mr. Zhao differed from all other Demon Generals. At first, King Mu had wondered if creating him this way was appropriate, but at least this Demon Person he had made possessed the greatest strength among them, surpassing the other Demon Generals.
This led King Mu to seek half-finished products from the mortal world rather than creating subordinates from Seeds anew.
But it brought another issue: Mr. Zhao was not as loyal as the other generals—this loyalty meaning he never questioned his decisions.
Mr. Zhao often raised questions and tried to correct certain decisions of his, though not yet to the point of displeasing him.
King Mu waved his hand, signaling Sa Luan to leave. Sa Luan glanced between them and bowed before departing.
Only then did Mr. Zhao speak. “This General has learned that Yan Yan and Mr. Ying suffered heavy blows, and Mr. Liu and Mr. Qin have been eliminated?”
King Mu did not answer, his stern face radiating authority.
Seeing his tacit agreement, Mr. Zhao continued, “Your Majesty’s predictions of events have shown some deviation.”
“Yes,” King Mu said gravely. “But everything remains under control.”
Mr. Zhao nodded and glanced at the Golden Giant Wheel floating above the black tree before looking away.
“What does Mr. Zhao wish to ask? Are you curious how I foresaw all this?” King Mu gestured, and golden light radiated as the giant wheel shrank into a ring on his middle finger.
“This General merely thinks that since the prediction has deviated slightly, similar issues may arise next. We must prepare countermeasures early.”
“Details may differ,” King Mu said calmly, rising and approaching the black pool. “But the path of ‘fate’ forged by layers of cause and effect will not change in its broad strokes.”
Mr. Zhao faced King Mu.
“In your words, we have already missed two branch points.” Mr. Zhao said.
“Branch points?” King Mu narrowed his eyes. “Where did you hear that?”
Mr. Zhao did not answer.
“They will leave Bianjing again. Zhou Wang and Yelu Yari will assist you. Zhou Wang’s task is to retrieve the Phoenix’s Last Soul Fragment. Yelu Yari is to eliminate Xiao Kun. When conditions are met, Kun’s existence will create a new branch point.” King Mu said gravely. “Further on, there are the Khitan People in Luoyang. Even if everything deviates, there is still the final…”
“You also promised,” Mr. Zhao said gravely, “that the future would not reach the Jingkang Battle.”
“I have always remembered.” King Mu turned back. “So, fulfill your duties.”
Mr. Zhao and King Mu stared at each other for a long while, each trying to read the other’s eyes. Finally, Mr. Zhao bowed. “This General takes his leave.”
In the Western Regions, on the Loulan Ancient Road, the wind and sand whipped up again.
“I miss the fish soup and buns from Kaifeng,” Xiang Xian said.
“Me too.” Chaosheng had been away from home for months now. Apart from a few lavish feasts in Gaochang, they had mostly subsisted on dry rations and jerky. Even with Wu Yingzong’s fine culinary skills, conditions here limited him to making sure everyone ate their fill within those constraints.
March in the Western Regions still carried chill. The sun scorched by day, and cold winds howled at night. Xiao Kun had chosen the relatively easier path: the Loulan Ancient Road from centuries past.
One branch of the ancient road led to Yang Pass and Yumen Pass; the other turned south at Hami toward Qinghai.
This was the land of Tibetan People and Qiang People, called “Cuowenbo” in Tibetan, inhabited by nomadic tribes since before the Central Plains dynasties arose thousands of years ago. At first, they encountered merchant caravans traveling between the Western Regions and Qing Tang City, but upon entering Kunlun Mountain, only their group remained on the mountain path.
In March on Kunlun, snow flurried, cold winds poured down necks, and sweat came easily on clear days, making it miserable.
At dusk, when gales rose, they had to find shelter for camp, lest the pitch-black night and treacherous paths lead them plummeting into abysses.
