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Snow was drifting down over the capital, and the Road of Peace was no exception.
Only a few people knew that these drifting snowflakes came from a furious snowstorm falling over the Heavenly Dao Academy.
All the princely estates had shut their gates, making not a single noise. The Prince of Xiang's estate was even more quiet, so silent that it seemed like a tomb.
The snowflakes flew past the high walls of the princely estate, landing where the Li Palace priests could not see, but they could not land on the ground.
Countless gusts of wind behind the wall incessantly blew against the soft snow.
Several hundred cultivators and divine crossbowmen stood in the garden and courtyard of the Prince of Xiang's estate, separated by the black sea of priests by only a single wall.
They made not a single sound, maintaining absolute silence. As a result, their breathing sounded even louder.
The louder it was, the heavier it was. The shorter it was, the more nervous it was.
Was the light snow of early spring unable to fall because of this breathing that was as silent as a mystery, as heavy as a mountain?
Prince Chen Liu stood by the window, gazing at his subordinates in the garden as he silently pondered these questions.
As snow danced outside his window, his face seemed a little pale.
Because he was tired, not because he was uneasy.
At this moment, any regrets were unnecessary.
He turned to the blue-clothed Daoists.
Three Daoists in blue turned toward that white-haired old Daoist.
The old Daoist was a true expert of the Daoist faith and had been half a step from the Divine for many years.
Other than the Tang clan's Minister Wei, the blind zither player, and a few hidden characters belonging to the southern clans and sects, there was no one else that could be placed on par with him.
But even he did not have the confidence to defend the Prince of Xiang's estate.
Not a single shred.
He completely understood that if the Li Palace decided to attack with all its power, only the complete mobilization of the Great Zhou Imperial Court's army could stop that raging wave.
The old Daoist said to Prince Chen Liu, "You should go."
Prince Chen Liu paled even further, but his expression remained calm. "I cannot abandon these subordinates loyal to me and my father."
The old Daoist impassively said, "I will remain to block the way. You leave first with my three martial nephews."
Prince Chen Liu froze, not having expected the old Daoist to be willing to take such a risk.
The old Daoist walked up to the window. Ignoring the prince, he slowly closed his eyes.
The wind brought snowflakes to that wrinkled face and ruffled his white hair. It was a rather touching sight.
Prince Chen Liu's eyes went moist at this sight. He wanted to persuade him otherwise, but he ultimately chose to remain silent.
He used as little time as possible to regain his composure. After bowing to the old Daoist, he immediately turned around.
The gray bricks from the window to the center of the reception hall began to sink down, forming a flight of stone steps leading underground.
Prince Chen Liu and the three blue-clothed Daoists headed down the steps.
In front of them was a gloom that headed to parts unknown.
Suddenly, the lanterns on the stone walls lit up on their own, their fire illuminating the ground in front of the group.
It was rather wet, and moss was growing along the corners of the walls. The place had not been cleaned in many years.
The light also shone on Prince Chen Liu's face.
He was very calm.
There was no moisture in his eyes.
His face showed no signs of being touched.
All of that was meaningless.
He had always believed this.
The battle about to begin was also meaningless.
The old Daoist from the Monastery of Eternal Spring might be able to escape with his life, or he might die a valiant death in battle, but it had nothing do with him.
He only needed to know that the old Daoist would assuredly make the experts of the Li Palace pay an enormous price.
As for whether the soldiers and experts of the princely estate surrendered or died in battle, that also did not matter.
He had never once doubted the loyalty or ardor of these people, but these people had never been the true aces of the Prince of Xiang's estate.
The Prince of Xiang's estate's true strength would not even appear in the capital today.
Because he had made an almost identical judgment to Chen Changsheng's. He did not think that a fight would start in the Mausoleum of Books.
Though the moment of the final battle had still not come, many people would still die today.
He had to ensure that his own life would remain unthreatened, so he had to leave.
He would use this gloomy tunnel to reach the shore of the Luo River and then leave the capital.
Several hundred black-armored light cavalry had been waiting on the outskirts of the capital for him for a very long time.
He would take this light cavalry and travel to Hanqiu City, where he would meet up with his most loyal subordinates, troops, and the Zhu clan's descendants.
When that time came, what should he do? Issue an official denunciation? Or should he first poison to death those pieces of trash in the Zhu clan?
If it were Emperor Taizong, what would he do?
Poisoning was no good, as it was too obvious. House arrest was better, and he could revisit the matter after he took the throne.
A hint of laughter appeared in his eyes, shining in the lantern light, as he thought of these things.
The three Daoists were behind him, so they naturally couldn't see.
His father was an expert of the Divine Domain, so there was naturally no need to worry about his safety.
Even if the venerable Daoist happened to lose, neither Xu Yourong nor Chen Changsheng were that vicious, so they naturally wouldn't do anything to the princely estate's concubines and their children.
Prince Chen Liu felt like he had thought of everything, considered everything, calculated everything.
But he did not think about his new wife, the Princess of Ping, or even about this current undertaking.
He also had not calculated that someone was waiting for him up ahead in this gloomy tunnel.
……
……
In the quiet tunnel, any sound could be heard loud and clear.
Like the water moving underground or ants climbing on the wall.
The two Daoist nuns opened their eyes.
Footsteps were coming from in front of them, from the direction of the Prince of Xiang's estate.
Huai Shu glanced at her senior sister.
Huai Ren had an apathetic gaze.
Suddenly, the faint light coming from in front of them refracted in a strange manner.
It was like space was being twisted there.
What sort of strength could cause the space to silently warp?
Huai Shu sensed this Qi and asked in consternation, "What object is this?"
Huai Ren slightly raised her brow and said in surprise, "His Holiness the Pope has also moved?"
……
……
When the space in the tunnel was twisting, a similar phenomenon was taking place in the sky.
The gloomy light of the sun shone everywhere, clearly illuminating the Prince of Xiang's estate.
A pressure difficult to describe descended from the sky.
The snow and wind suddenly went mad.
A black dragon claw tore through the clouds and slowly descended.
The dragon claw was like a black mountain, its scales like dark windows exuding a monstrous Qi.
The soldiers and experts could not remain calm, and began to shout in panic.
The white-haired old Daoist opened his eyes, from which a stream of light shot out.
This pure light enveloped the Prince of Xiang's estate. It was a formidable defensive array.
The old Daoist looked at the sky and coldly said, "Evil creature, die!"
Before his words had time to fall, his sword had left its sheath. It drew a harsh ray of light against the sky as it flew up, piercing through the thick clouds to slash at his foe!
He knew that his opponent today was very strong, but he remained fearless.
This strike of his condensed all his cultivation over his life, being infinitesimally close to the Divine Domain, and was bolstered by the estate's array. As long as his opponent was still not an adult, she would undoubtedly be injured and forced to retreat.
But he had no idea that his true opponent was not in the depths of the snowstorm. They had always been in the Prince of Xiang's estate.
When he was putting his heart and soul into that sword strike, that person struck.
That person stood in the corner of the wall, his shoulders drooped, an ordinary sword loosely tied to his waist.
At some point, his slender fingers had grasped the hilt, seeming both steady and in harmony.
If someone had seen this, they might have even developed a misperception.
His sword and hand were one.
How could there possibly be a sword faster than this?
A sword glow flashed and then vanished.
It was like a firework, or a flower blooming in the night.
Two holes appeared in two walls.
The tip of a sword, covered in blood, pierced through a blue Daoist robe.
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1. This is a Chinese idiom that is either used to refer to the vestiges left behind by events from the past or to the fleeting nature of human life.