The Imperial Advisor was unhurried. Indeed, he believed it might even be beneficial for Mo Tianyu to endure some hardship. Mo Tianyu's temperament was excessively reckless and arrogant—daring to dub himself the "Madman Mo," he held his gaze loftily above the heavens. When tasked with summoning Lu Fan, Mo Tianyu not only defied orders but scaled the wall under cover of night, only to be mistaken for a scallion and thrust into the earth. All these misfortunes were self-inflicted.
From the intelligence he gathered, the Imperial Advisor surmised that Lu Fan had likely received a celestial destiny akin to the Son of Heaven, thus becoming a recipient of the divine grace. Indeed, the Imperial Advisor referred to those blessed with such fate as "Heaven's Chosen." Moreover, from Yuwen Xiu's account, he had roughly deduced the identity of another such chosen individual, though he withheld this revelation from Yuwen Xiu.
Proud and unyielding, this person bowed neither to heaven nor earth—only to the common folk, never to immortals. Such a figure was rare within the Great Zhou Dynasty. Yuwen Xiu might not fathom this, but the Imperial Advisor, well-versed in worldly affairs and human nature, had studied countless characters and their proclivities.
He speculated that within the dynasty, three men fit the profile of the other Heaven's Chosen. The first was Jiang Li, lord of Drunken Dragon City—a figure forged in the underworld, famed even in the imperial court, a trusted blade of the late emperor, and his most esteemed confidant. Upon the emperor's demise, Jiang Li guarded the city's gates, standing sentinel for the Son of Heaven.
The second was Xiang Shaoyun, governor of the Western Commandery, sovereign of Xiliang, a local warlord. The third was Mo Tianyu... well, better left unspoken.
In the Imperial Advisor's estimation, Jiang Li becoming a Heaven's Chosen would not be detrimental to Great Zhou. Yet, if Xiang Shaoyun attained this blessing, the realm's balance would become even more inscrutable. With Xiang's alliance with the formidable Mo family, the Advisor believed Xiang could hardly rival them, even with his supreme martial prowess. But if he were divinely favored, all bets were off.
Beyond rescuing Mo Tianyu, the Advisor's journey to Beiluo City had another purpose—to confront Lu Fan. Lu Ping'an of Beiluo was likewise Heaven's Chosen. Without the Advisor's intervention, Lu Changkong would never have compelled him to act.
Learning Lu Fan had departed for a brothel recently seized from the three great families for tax collection, Lu Changkong ordered preparations to ferry the Advisor to Heartlake Island.
The breeze stirred gentle ripples across the lake's emerald surface. Onboard a fishing boat, an elderly man clad in white grasped a jade-green bamboo staff, his eyes profound, holding a glossy tortoise shell plate that drew attention.
"Tianji Sect?" Lu Fan, seated in his wheelchair, arched an eyebrow. Among the myriad sects, the mysterious Tianji Sect was famed for divination, stratagems, and prophecy.
"How curious. The Daoist and Sword factions of the myriad schools have sent envoys to Beiluo— all slain by my hand, their bodies sunk beneath this lake. So I wonder, why do you remain?" Lu Fan reclined, toyed with a black chess piece, and spoke evenly, the lakeside breeze caressing him.
Nie Changqing's spirit energy radiated, coiling around his butcher's cleaver, his eyes icy. Ning Zhao mirrored the same intensity. Yi Yue's hand rested warily on her waist whip.
"Ugh..." Ni Yu clung to the boat's edge, still retching, somewhat disrupting the tension.
"Young Master Lu, there is no need for hostility. Let us speak calmly. Our Tianji Sect steers clear of court intrigues and worldly vendettas, so you have no reason to kill an old man like me," Lü Mudu smiled, tooth gap exposed.
"That smile... hideous. Is that your excuse?" Lu Fan flipped the chess piece between his palms, gently rubbing it.
The words struck a nerve; Lü Mudu's grin faltered, lips tightening as he concealed his missing tooth.
"Enough. For now, I shall spare your life. Come ashore—we have matters to discuss."
"Wise words. You may live."
"Old Nie, set sail."
"Understood." Nie Changqing's face was grim as he stood at the stern, body arched, blood surging, feet driving the boat swiftly toward Heartlake Island.
The boat sliced through the jade waters, scattering startled fish, while gulls and egrets took flight along the banks. Soon, they docked.
Lu Fan descended from his wheelchair, with Ning Zhao pushing gently behind. Yi Yue carried a thoroughly disenchanted Ni Yu.
Lü Mudu, staff tapping rhythmically, stepped onto the island. Suddenly, his body shuddered. This island bore a peculiar aura. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and lifted his head.
A wisp of qi darted swiftly through heaven and earth like a swimming fish.
Opening his eyes wide with shock and awe, Lü Mudu scanned the surroundings, noting all flora withered and dead—replaced by ten plants.
Upon closer inspection, they were chrysanthemums.
Chrysanthemums?! Towering three feet tall, stems thick as a young woman's wrist, Lü Mudu's expression was priceless. That strange current of qi seemed to surge forth from these blossoms.
What was this energy? Why did it stir such an intense yearning within him?
He was not alone. Ning Zhao, pushing the wheelchair, and Nie Changqing holding Nie Shuang were equally stirred. Having tasted the essence of spiritual energy before, they perceived it even more keenly.
What darted through the island like a fish was none other than... an extraordinarily rare spiritual qi!
Qi had returned to the world?!
No. Nie Changqing and Ning Zhao immediately realized this energy stemmed from the ten chrysanthemums the young lord had planted.
Initially uneasy about the flowers, they now rejoiced wildly—heaven and earth breathed spiritual energy once more. Could they absorb it and advance their cultivation?
"Ah, the flowers are blooming?" Lu Fan's eyes brightened in surprise.
Gazing upon the ten Heavenward Chrysanthemums, each inhaling and exhaling spiritual qi, he smiled.
Having absorbed the essence of the Peach Blossom Isle, none of it was wasted.
Each Heavenward Chrysanthemum could generate a wisp of qi every three days. Ten flowers meant ten wisps. As long as the energy wasn't consumed, a single wisp would persist; once depleted, the flower would regenerate within three days.
Lu Fan had thought the chrysanthemums still budding, requiring much time to bloom, yet here they were, flourishing prematurely—an unexpected boon.
Without dwelling on the chrysanthemums, Lu Fan allowed Ning Zhao to wheel him into the "White Jade Capital" pavilion.
"Please," Nie Changqing, bearing his butcher's cleaver, cast a cold glance at Lü Mudu.
Reluctantly tearing his gaze from the Heavenward Chrysanthemums, Lü Mudu swallowed nervously, his mind tumultuous. The mysteries surrounding Lu Fan deepened.
Ascending the stone steps, Lü Mudu lightly tapped his jade-green bamboo staff before following Lu Fan into the pavilion.
Suddenly, his steps faltered. A sensation arrested him. His eyes lifted to the pair of unremarkable couplets flanking the pavilion's entrance. Those simple inscriptions held his gaze.