As a former martial arts master, Mu Changtian naturally recognized the legendary Da Huan Dan.
Though he had never seen one with his own eyes, the tales surrounding it were well-known to him.
The Da Huan Dan—a mythical pill said to bring someone back from the brink of death, restoring not only their body but also their lost cultivation. Though the legends were no doubt exaggerated, one thing remained true: the pill had unparalleled restorative powers. And more importantly—it was said to exist only within the imperial palace.
Staring at the three porcelain bottles Zhao Hong presented, Mu Changtian's gaze darkened with disbelief.
After a long silence, he finally let out a cold, bitter laugh. "So someone's already decided to strike before we even leave the capital?"
At such a late hour, who would possibly risk coming to rescue them—let alone bestow a divine pill like the Da Huan Dan?
The answer, to him, was clear.
Someone wanted him dead. This wasn't a rescue. It was an assassination wrapped in kindness.
What Da Huan Dan?
It was poison—pure and simple.
His eyes sharpened as he barked out, "Speak. Who sent you?"
He sneered. "If this is Lu Xingqiu's doing... ha! I'd rather die rotting in exile than swallow poison from that ungrateful snake."
Zhao Hong chuckled lightly, clearly unfazed by the accusation. "Duke Mu, you misunderstand. The ones who want you dead won't wait for the exile route—they would've ended you right in prison."
He paused for a moment, lifting the porcelain bottle slightly. "This Da Huan Dan is real. As for which prince offered it… you'll know soon enough. If you wish to see your daughter again, you'd best recover your strength before the journey begins."
Zhao Hong knew better than to reveal the true benefactor just yet. Had he spoken the Northern King's name aloud, Mu Changtian might've laughed it off. After all, the King of the North had long been known as nothing more than a disgraced wastrel in the eyes of the nobility.
At the mention of his daughter, however, Mu Changtian's expression faltered. His gaze flickered with hesitation.
In the next cell, his son Mu Jingwu suddenly spoke up, "Father, give it to me. I'll take it first—even if it's poison. We don't have many days left anyway."
Mu Changtian remained silent, his mind weighing the possibilities as he stared again at the porcelain bottle in Zhao Hong's hand. After a moment of thought, he snatched it away, uncorked it, and threw the pill into his mouth in one swift motion—ready to die if that was what fate had in store.
But death did not come.
Instead, a warm surge of energy rushed through his meridians.
His eyes widened slightly.
Internal strength—his inner force was returning. And not just trickling back, but surging.
In mere moments, he felt a long-lost vitality reawaken. Though he hadn't returned to his peak, he now possessed the strength of a ninth-grade warrior.
Mu Changtian looked at the two remaining porcelain bottles in his hand, disbelief written all over his face. Was this truly... the real Da Huan Dan?
Impossible!
The Da Huan Dan was strictly guarded in the imperial palace, coveted even by Grandmasters. One pill alone was enough to spark bloodshed across the capital.
Yet here he was—holding three.
Three!
If word got out, chaos would erupt in the streets.
Could a prince truly have handed out such treasures?
Wait...
Zhao Hong had never mentioned that the prince in question was a direct son of Emperor Xia.
In the Great Xia Dynasty, the term "prince" wasn't limited to the Emperor's sons. Even vassal kings—those who ruled distant provinces—could be referred to as such.
Could it be that a powerful vassal king had decided to rebel and was attempting to win him over?
The thought struck Mu Changtian like a bolt of lightning.
Yes, that had to be it. Otherwise, why offer such an extravagant gesture?
Three Da Huan Dan for him and his sons—this wasn't mere generosity. This was a message.
If a prince truly intended to rebel, Mu Changtian had no reason to object. He had nothing left to lose.
Lu Xingqiu had betrayed him once already. If another prince dared to rise, so be it. He would ride the wave of rebellion himself!
With newfound resolve, Mu Changtian turned to Zhao Hong. "Please convey my thanks to your prince. Whatever he wishes from me—Mu Changtian will accompany him without hesitation."
Without another word, he tossed the remaining two bottles to Mu Jingwu and Mu Xingping in the neighboring cell.
The two brothers caught them, then downed the pills without question.
Almost instantly, the numbness and weakness that had plagued their bodies for days vanished. Vitality surged through their veins. They exchanged stunned glances—this wasn't poison. This was truly the Da Huan Dan!
Their father had regained his power. So had they.
At the very least, on the journey, they could resist rather than be led like lambs to slaughter.
Whether they'd survive or not would depend on fate.
Zhao Hong gave a slight bow. "Very well, Duke Mu. I will relay your words to the prince."
"I won't disturb you any further."
With that, he turned and departed.
As the cell door clanged shut behind him, Mu Xingping couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer. "Father, who would dare gift us Da Huan Dan at such a time? That too, three of them!"
Mu Changtian narrowed his eyes. "Clearly, some vassal kings are getting restless. They're looking to strike while Lu Xingqiu's attention is focused on suppressing the noble families."
He paused, his voice low and cold. "They've probably already formed an alliance—families and kings alike—intent on replacing Lu Xingqiu with someone new. Just like how we once helped Lu Xingqiu ascend."
Mu Jingwu's tone turned wary. "Then what should we do?"
Mu Changtian laughed coldly. "What do you think? I'm the one who put Lu Xingqiu on that throne. Since he betrayed me... I'll be the one to pull him down!"
His voice carried unshakable conviction.
Whoever dared to rebel—he would stand with them. These Da Huan Dan were proof of their sincerity. No one would part with such treasures lightly.
But... who was it?
Which prince had the means—and the audacity?
Among the vassal kings of DaXia, few held real power. Though some ruled prosperous fiefs, Lu Xingqiu had always kept a tight grip, often dispatching his shadow guards to eliminate threats before they could grow.
Mu Changtian knew firsthand how ruthless Lu Xingqiu could be.
Once, a rebellious prince had been assassinated in secret. The court had blamed the chief historian of the fief, accusing him of staging a coup. Lu Xingqiu's methods were clean, cold, and merciless.
And yet... someone still dared.
He couldn't yet guess who.
But once he was free, he would find out.
---
Meanwhile—at Xuanyue Palace.
The gauze curtains fluttered gently in the breeze, carrying the scent of incense through the room. Amidst the delicate haze, a white-clad woman sat before a guqin, her fingers dancing across the strings with measured grace.
The melody was haunting—elegant yet laced with sorrow.
She was tall, her silhouette graceful like a celestial maiden. A soft breeze lifted the veil covering the doorway, revealing a glimpse of her face.
Her features were flawless—purer than frost, fairer than snow. A cold beauty, ethereal and distant, like a goddess from the Ninth Heaven.
Just then, another woman entered the room. Dressed in flowing robes of violet clouds, she was beautiful in her own right—elegant and refined.
The music faded.
"Aunt Lin," the white-clad woman asked softly, her voice gentle yet tinged with frost. "Is something the matter?"
Aunt Lin hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Palace Master… are you truly going to the Northern King's territory?"
The woman stood up slowly, her flowing robes brushing against the floor as she emerged from the gauze veil.
Her name—Chen Wanrong.
With a voice as calm as water, she replied, "Only the blood of Emperor Xia's child can be used in the Dragon Subduing Curse. And the Northern King is the easiest one to approach."
Aunt Lin's brows furrowed with worry. "But... I heard the Northern King is a hedonist. His estate is full of concubines and maids. If he lays eyes on you…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Chen Wanrong turned her gaze toward the distant mountains, her expression unchanging.
"Desire makes men predictable," she said flatly. "I will plant a love poison in him—then control him. He will help us complete the Dragon Subduing Curse."
Aunt Lin let out a quiet sigh. "He is Chu Yue's child... If possible, Palace Master, please spare his life."
Chen Wanrong did not respond.
Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon. A soft breeze stirred the hem of her robe, causing it to ripple like silk on water.
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