According to the laws of Xuanyue Palace, a child born to the Goddess of the Palace is hailed as the Son of God. Thus, Lu Chen's identity was, without question, that of the Son of God of Xuanyue Palace.
Emperor Xia's expression grew uncertain the moment he recalled this.
Now, he couldn't help but regret assigning Lu Chen the title of a vassal prince.
This boy had become an unstable variable—one with the potential to sway the very balance of power within Daxia. Especially since it involved the major sects scattered across the empire.
Xuanyue Palace might very well exploit the Northern King to counterbalance the influence of the capital.
And now, suspicions of Xuanyue Palace colluding with the remnants of the fallen Chen Kingdom only added fuel to the fire. Who could say what their true intentions were?
As he pondered, Emperor Xia sneered coldly. "The aristocratic clans haven't been dealt with yet, and now the sects are starting to stir. It seems no one wants me to have a peaceful reign."
Situ Ce stepped forward and suggested, "If Your Majesty is concerned about the Northern King's connection with Xuanyue Palace, why not send a Shadow Guard to keep an eye on him?"
Emperor Xia fell into momentary silence before nodding slowly. "You're right. Someone should indeed be posted to observe him."
Without delay, he turned and said to the air behind him, "Commander Bai, I'll entrust this to you. Head to the Northern Territory personally. I want to know which master has been so generous with Xiao Chen, staying by his side and guarding him all this time."
There appeared to be no one behind the Emperor—but as his voice fell, the outline of a figure in white gradually came into focus.
It was a woman.
Clad in flowing white robes, her form was slender, graceful, and perfectly proportioned. Her face was beautiful yet emotionless, like a frozen sculpture of ice.
She bowed deeply. "Understood, Your Majesty."
Emperor Xia nodded. "Go."
"I shall take my leave," she replied calmly.
And with that, her figure vanished once again—melting into the shadows like a ghost.
Situ Ce blinked, momentarily taken aback. He had not expected Emperor Xia to dispatch the Deputy Commander of the Shadow Guard herself for this task.
"Your Majesty," he asked, almost hesitantly, "isn't it a bit excessive to send Commander Bai all the way to Beijun just to investigate this matter?"
But Emperor Xia responded with an unwavering tone, "Anything concerning Xuanyue Palace is never a trivial matter."
Seeing the Emperor's firm stance, Situ Ce said no more. He understood well the deep wariness Emperor Xia held toward Xuanyue Palace—something that had only grown stronger ever since Chu Yue entered the picture.
He changed the subject. "Your Majesty, Mu Changtian should be leaving the capital in the next few days, correct?"
At the mention of Mu Changtian, Emperor Xia's expression darkened.
"What? Is the Imperial Master hoping to plead on Mu Changtian's behalf?"
The coldness in his tone made Situ Ce sigh inwardly. He realized there was no use saying anything further—Emperor Xia had already made up his mind to eliminate the Duke Mu household.
Rather than pressing the matter, Situ Ce shifted his approach. "Not at all, Your Majesty. I merely wished to remind you—if you're planning to act against the Jiangnan families, you'll need a few reliable confidants at your side."
Originally, Mu Changtian could have served as a valuable blade for Emperor Xia—a sharp weapon to be used in dealing with the powerful Jiangnan clans.
But Emperor Xia, fearful of the military might Mu still commanded, had decided to cast him aside.
As more of the Emperor's allies fell from grace, those he could truly trust grew fewer and fewer. If things continued this way, there might come a day when Emperor Xia found himself utterly alone.
Still, Situ Ce had no intention of interfering further. As long as the dynasty bore the Lu family name, these matters were none of his concern.
Emperor Xia glanced at him and replied lightly, "I shall keep the Imperial Master's reminder in mind."
…
At the Eighth Prince's residence.
Lu Shuyun stared at the intelligence reports laid out before him, sneering in disdain. "My Ninth Brother really is a fool blessed with absurd luck. Just those soaps and perfumes he's making... they're bringing in a fortune!"
In the struggle for the throne, money was as vital as power—it bought support, influence, and loyalty. Lu Shuyun had always been keenly aware of this.
Many of the masters and experts in his household had been recruited with silver. Without wealth, he wouldn't have been able to gather so many capable retainers.
Yet while he exhausted himself running countless businesses, struggling to earn profits, that good-for-nothing Ninth Prince did nothing more than laze around the palace. He simply handed over everything to a woman and still managed to rake in hundreds of thousands of taels each month.
The injustice of it made Lu Shuyun boil with jealousy.
A guest official beside him leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, why not find a way to steal the formulas for making those soaps and perfumes from the Northern Palace? Once we have them, we could mass-produce and sell them ourselves."
But Lu Shuyun shook his head coolly. "No need for that. The master of the Blood Moon Tower has already gone to Beijun in person. I trust he'll bring back those formulas soon enough."
At those words, the guest's face changed drastically. "Your Highness, you mustn't lay a hand on the Ninth Prince now. If anything happens to him, the court will immediately suspect foul play. They'll say it was Your Highness who orchestrated the attack, and that will be disastrous for your claim to the throne."
"This is a critical juncture. We can't afford to make any missteps."
But Lu Shuyun remained unfazed. "The capital is already a chaotic mess. Who really cares about a useless prince out in the north?"
"Besides," he added, his eyes narrowing, "the barbarians will soon begin their southern march. By then, no one will even realize it was the Blood Moon Tower's doing. The court's attention will be entirely on the barbarian threat."
The guest official froze. The weight of information behind Lu Shuyun's words was simply too overwhelming. For a long moment, he could not respond.
…
A few days later.
At the capital's main gate.
A long convoy of prison wagons passed slowly through the city gates.
Unlike past scenes where prisoners were pelted with rotten eggs or stones, today the crowd remained silent. No one dared jeer or mock.
Everyone knew—this was the day the Mu household was to be exiled.
The men and women inside those wagons weren't common criminals—they were family members of Duke Mu.
Even now, the common folk remembered who Mu Changtian was: one of the two great Kings of the Great Xia Dynasty. It was he who had once supported Emperor Xia's ascension to the throne.
He may have fallen from grace, but he still commanded deep respect and reverence.
On top of the city wall, a man clad in silver armor looked down at the convoy moving beneath him.
"Are the preparations complete?" he asked the soldiers beside him.
"Rest assured, General," the soldier answered confidently. "Nothing can go wrong."
The man nodded in satisfaction. His gaze landed on Mu Changtian, sitting motionless in the prison cart.
A quiet voice escaped his lips. "Teacher… have a safe journey."
The exile convoy of the Mu family proceeded without incident for the first two days. No unexpected dangers appeared, and many within the Mu household began to feel hopeful.
But Mu Changtian was not so easily fooled.
For two days straight, everything they ate or used had to be carefully inspected. Though the soldiers escorting them maintained respectful behavior, Mu Changtian trusted none of it.
He knew in his heart—Emperor Xia would never let him walk free.
After all, even though his cultivation had been abolished, he had once been one of the two towering figures of the Great Xia. To the Emperor, letting him live was no different from releasing a tiger back into the wild.
Two nights later, the convoy arrived at a lonely inn.
There were no villages nearby, no shops—just that solitary structure standing in the wilderness. Night had already fallen.
The officer leading the escort approached Mu Changtian. "Duke Mu, why don't we rest here for the night?"
Despite being prisoners, the soldiers still addressed them with formality and respect.
Mu Changtian's lips curved upward slightly. He glanced at the inn and nodded. "Very well. We'll rest here tonight."
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