Hong Ning withdrew her gaze, lifted the teacup, and took a sip.
Yang Zhen leaned down slightly, reaching out. His slender fingers landed precisely on the rim of the cup, brushing against her lips.
Hong Ning was startled.
Such an action was highly inappropriate. Yet his handsome face remained unchanged, his expression impassive, though there was a trace of amusement in his otherwise cold eyes. Slowly, he took the cup from her hand and placed it back on the table, his tone casual. “It’s getting cold. Have them bring you a fresh one.”
The familiar face suddenly seemed more vivid, more alive. Hong Ning was momentarily dazed.
“Nothing is absolute,” Yang Zhen said as he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. “Stay here and rest. Once I’ve settled matters in this city, I will take you to the capital to meet the Celestial Master.”
Hong Ning snapped out of her daze, confused. “Celestial Master?”
Yang Zhen turned to face the window, his gaze settling on the withered lotuses in the pond, his expression satisfied. “The Celestial Master of this dynasty is highly skilled in Daoist arts—he may be able to help you.”
A deity who had sealed her powers would never allow a mere mortal to break the seal so easily. Hong Ning knew he meant well, so she simply smiled. “Losing my abilities and yet still being granted Your Highness’s protection—I am already deeply grateful. I will find my own way; I dare not trouble anyone further.”
The smile faded from Yang Zhen’s face as he frowned. “You—”
Hong Ning cut him off. “People are dying in this city every month. This matter cannot be delayed. As the saying goes, ‘distant water cannot quench present thirst.’ Instead of traveling to the capital to seek out the Celestial Master, why not have men discreetly search for capable experts nearby? There may be someone who can help.”
Yang Zhen stared at her coldly for a long moment before flicking his sleeve and turning to leave. His voice was indifferent as he walked away.
“In my opinion, losing your powers doesn’t seem to matter much. You’re just as sharp-tongued, just as stubborn—still refusing to yield an inch.”
* * *
Auspicious clouds coiled around the eaves, a single cloud-shaped ornament hanging at the roof’s edge. The Celestial Archives were bathed in a soft golden glow.
The Divine Emperor sat at the desk, his face unreadable, his expression as still as deep waters. “The Kunlun Clan grows bolder by the day. They have coveted the Central Heavens for years. Though they do not yet dare challenge your rule, they now seek to place their own people in command.”
Below the steps, Jin Xiu sat facing west, frowning as she read through the memorial in her hands. It was clear that the opposing faction was taking advantage of her yet-to-be-restored position, inserting their own people in advance, weakening the authority of the True Divine Clan, and even seeking to undermine the rule of the Central Heavens itself.
The Divine Emperor asked, “What do you intend to do?”
Jin Xiu said, “Since my demotion, the Ten Generals have continued to guard the Central Heavens without any mishaps.”
The Divine Emperor nodded. “That may be true, but this time, the Lord of Kunlun has jointly petitioned with the Southern Pole King. They are using the recent invasion of the Central Heavens by the Demonic Immortal Realm—and the absence of the Lord of the Central Heavens during the crisis—as justification to request the appointment of Kunlun’s Four Divine Generals. They claim they wish to serve the Celestial Court. I cannot simply ignore such a proposal.”
Jin Xiu replied, “This is hardly the first attack from the Demonic Immortal Realm. Since they have delayed action for so long, why not delay further?”
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