The Great Zhou Dynasty, Imperial Capital.At the break of dawn, the first golden rays of sunlight poured over the earth, casting a warm glow. The towering gates of the imperial city groaned with ancient solemnity, slowly parting to either side. The ground trembled violently as thunderous hooves shattered the morning stillness.
Beyond the city gate, clouds of dust billowed along the official road. Three hundred armored riders surged forth, flanked by four jolting prison carriages dragged at high speed. With the gates flung wide, the iron cavalry entered the city without pause—this was the escort led by Lord Lu Changkong, who had departed North Luo City before first light.
Once inside the city, the cavalry slowed its pace. The main thoroughfare had long been cleared by the Imperial Capital's guards. Street vendors and curious onlookers were barred from entering. Yet many civilians, driven by the thrill of novelty, widened their eyes, fixated on the slowly advancing riders and their ominous cargo.
Luo Yue had been waiting beneath the city gate tower. Beside him stood the commander of the palace guard, his hand resting silently on his blade. As Lu Changkong approached, both men spurred their horses forward to receive him.
"Lord Lu, this way, please," said the commander respectfully, inclining slightly in his saddle. Luo Yue followed in silence.
Lu Changkong, clad in battle armor and stern of countenance, returned the salute and proceeded with his three hundred riders directly toward the imperial palace.
At the gates of the royal city, the procession dismounted. The four prison carriages were secured. Lu Changkong had ridden tirelessly since dawn to arrive before the morning court session of the Great Zhou.
The palace gates comprised three arched entrances—the central gate towering nine meters high, flanked by two lesser gates each measuring two meters. Beyond lay a vast plaza paved in white stone, stretching out in grand spectacle: the Imperial Plaza. At its end stood the grand hall—Hall of Supreme Harmony—its colossal eaves and columns seated atop ten tiers of white jade steps, each etched with exquisite patterns.
Flanking the stairs were majestic white jade lions, regal and imposing. To either side of the crimson wooden doors extended a hundred chambers in sweeping colonnades, resembling a hundred-headed dragon guarding the sacred hall.
Lu Changkong strode forward, removing his helmet as loose strands of hair fell about his face. Luo Yue trailed quietly behind.
Upon the jade steps, high ministers and noble officials of the Great Zhou moved with dignity into the palace, stepping over raised thresholds into the sanctum of state. Many cast glances toward Lu Changkong—his name had long echoed through the capital, ever since he repelled Tantai Xuan's fifty-thousand-strong army.
For a court long crushed beneath the weight of twelve feudal lords, this victory was a precious breath of reprieve.
With a cold, solemn gaze and unyielding posture, Lu Changkong entered the great hall. Officials stood divided in orderly ranks. Upon the dragon throne at the center, clad in a robe embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon, sat the young Son of Heaven—dignified despite his youth.
Yu Wenxiu caught sight of Lu Changkong and allowed a faint smile to grace his lips.
Morning court, though ceremonial in nature, served as a stage to convey a message to the realm.
Of the four prisoners, three were martial grandmasters, and one was a commander under Tantai Xuan. After court, all were to be executed at noon beneath the Meridian Gate, in full view of the populace and under the scrutiny of countless spies hidden along the long avenues.
Their heads would fall, one by one...
Lu Changkong emerged from the palace, holding his helmet in one hand. Outside, a refined scholar called out from afar with a respectful salute.
"Lord Lu, the Grandmaster invites your presence."
Lu Changkong's expression remained unchanged as he replied,"The affairs of North Luo are pressing. I must return at once. Please convey my regrets to the Grandmaster. I shall pay my respects in person another day."
He donned his helmet and turned to summon Luo Yue, intent on leaving swiftly.
The refined scholar, still smiling, said,"The Grandmaster insists. He recently stumbled upon an insight in medical theory that may cure your son's affliction."
Lu Changkong's steps faltered. His eyes narrowed as he turned to the scholar, who maintained his graceful composure.
At such words, refusal was no longer an option.
"Very well. If the Grandmaster still holds concern for my son's wellbeing, I am obliged. Lead the way."
His stern face relaxed slightly, and he offered a courteous smile.
…
Deep within the royal city, amidst opulent palace towers, stood an unassuming two-story pavilion—aged and modest in its design. This was the Book Pavilion.
Within resided the most revered elder of the Great Zhou, mentor to the emperor and sage of the realm.
The scholar led Lu Changkong to the pavilion courtyard, but dared not enter further. Despite his rank, without summons he would not tread upon sacred ground. Luo Yue was barred from entry entirely.
Lu Changkong, having removed his armor, walked alone into the courtyard. Flowers bloomed amidst the compact space.
Before the weathered two-story pavilion lay a bamboo bench, where a disheveled man lounged drunkenly, the scent of wine thick in the air. Hair unkempt, robes disheveled, chest bared—this middle-aged man clutched a massive wine gourd, mumbling verses between foul-tasting belches.
Lu Changkong's gaze sharpened."Sir, I am Lu Changkong, Lord of North Luo. I come to pay my respects to the Grandmaster."
The drunken scholar looked at him through bleary eyes, pointed a finger, and laughed boisterously."So that's it! I cast the hexagrams—North Luo was surely doomed! Yet here you stand. A peasant's son, surviving by sheer dumb luck!"
"Mind your tongue, Tianyu," came a calm and aged voice from within.
A white-haired elder in simple robes and straw sandals stepped forth, bamboo scroll in hand.
The drunkard fell silent at once.
Lu Changkong's grim expression softened."Grandmaster."
"No need for formalities," the old man said gently, his gaze sweeping over Lu Changkong.
Despite being a martial grandmaster, Lu Changkong felt an immense pressure—as though this frail elder could see straight through his soul.
The Grandmaster's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of insight flashing within."So, you've already found a way to cure Ping'an's affliction."
He raised the bamboo scroll and tapped Tianyu's head."Tianyu, prepare the carriage."
The drunken scholar blinked in confusion."Prepare the carriage? For where?"
The Grandmaster cast a meaningful look at Lu Changkong."You shall go in my stead to North Luo. Though Lord Lu may have found a method to cure Ping'an, I would see it confirmed. If not, then apply my treatment instead."
"I have long heard of Ping'an's talent. Yet, due to his condition, he could not travel far. If he has truly recovered, then I must meet him."
Lu Changkong trembled slightly.
The drunken scholar's eyes lit up."Another junior disciple? At last, I can abandon this dusty post!"
…
Outside the Drunken Dust Pavilion.
Lu Ping'an sat upright in his wheelchair, his hair tied in a jade coronet, a jade hairpin adorning his head. With rosy lips and pearly teeth, he resembled a young nobleman. Behind him stood Ning Zhao, her long gown fluttering as the wind played through her dark hair.
Nie Changqing, wielding a butcher's blade, stood beside Lu Ping'an.
One hand supported his chin while the other rested lightly on a woolen blanket. Lu Ping'an narrowed his eyes.
Before him, a system prompt appeared…