"Crack!"
Holding the paper crane, Chen Kuang heard a sharp, thunderous snap, and instantly, his spirit trembled, a jolt running across his scalp.
The sound was clearly right beside him, yet it felt as though it had traveled from ten thousand miles away, bypassing all barriers, striking directly into his ears.
It was like a blow to the head, instantly clearing the mind.
Though this paper crane couldn't transmit images, Chen Kuang instantly understood what had happened,
The Master had snapped his discipline ruler, and stepped out from Liberty Mountain!
This... was a massive event.
Previously, from Lin Eryou and Zhang Zhizhou, Chen Kuang had already learned that this Master of Liberty Mountain had once said:
"If the world has the Dao, I shall sacrifice myself to the Dao;
If the world lacks the Dao, I shall sacrifice my body for the Dao."
When he saw that the world still held the Dao, he distanced himself from worldly affairs, sought personal freedom, gathered students far and wide, and pursued the Dao through scholarship. Thus, Liberty Mountain became his Daoist sanctuary.
But if the day ever came when he saw that the world no longer held the Dao, then he would risk himself, intervene directly in worldly conflict.
Based on what Chen Kuang currently knew, the Master had already dispatched his two most trusted disciples, sending them across nations in search of the enlightened sovereign he dreamed of.
Once the Master recognized someone as that ruler, he would undoubtedly descend the mountain to aid them, becoming a Saint Protecting the Nation, like Donghuang or Wangshu of old.
And those two chosen candidates, one was the Second Prince of Zhou, Zhou Yanwei, and the other was naturally the Little Princess of Liang, Su Huaiying.
Truthfully, Chen Kuang couldn't say for sure which of the two had the better chance.
At first, he thought Zhou Yanwei was too kind-hearted, too impulsive, more like a chivalrous knight than a crown prince. As a friend, he'd be great, loyal, passionate, righteous. But as an emperor? He lacked cunning and political finesse. Too easily swayed. Too easily caught in hesitation.
Yet the strategist who chose him, Lin Eryou, was practically demonic in intelligence, a cold, emotionally detached tactician willing to use any means to reach his ends.
Together, the two formed a synergy greater than the sum of their parts.
As for the Little Princess Su Huaiying, within the illusion of endless reincarnations, she had come close time and again to reviving the Liang Dynasty as a female sovereign and launching vengeance against Zhou. Her intelligence, capability, and ruthlessness were beyond question.
But her problem wasn't in her talent.
It lay with Chen Kuang.
In all those cycles, why did Su Huaiying always fall short at the final step?
It wasn't due to intelligence or ability. Nor was it bad luck.
It was because Liang's national fate, its Mandate of Heaven, rested within Chen Kuang.
As long as Su Huaiying clung to the name of Liang, trying to revive the dynasty in its old form, then unless the national fate returned to her, she would never succeed.
This was all part of Su Yu's scheme. By taking the "national fate" with him, he ensured that no one could claim Liang's throne before his resurrection.
As for the suffering of Liang's people, their displacement, their misery, their uncertainty, those were simply not within his considerations.
To him, to preserve a kingdom, one must overlook such insignificant sacrifices.
However, if Chen Kuang could resolve this issue, then he naturally believed Su Huaiying's chances of victory were far greater.
Still, regardless of who would win, the one the Master would support had to be one of these two heirs.
Chen Kuang had gifted a poem, he never imagined the Master would immediately descend the mountain. At most, he thought the man might lend him a hand...
But Zhou Yanwei and Su Huaiying were still in the "development phase." Why would the Master leave the mountain now?
Could it be... just because of his poem?
Impossible...
Chen Kuang's expression suddenly turned strange.
He had a bold idea.
But unless the Master himself confirmed it, Chen Kuang wouldn't dare say it aloud.
"The poem you gave me carries a fine Talent Aura," came the Master's voice from the paper crane, filled with overflowing praise. "Were you not untaught in the Way of Literature, this gift alone could have elevated you to the next tier."
Had any disciples of Liberty Mountain heard this, they would have cried, "Impossible!"
The Master, forever wearing a stern scowl, when had he ever praised anyone?
All they had ever known was the discipline ruler's sharp sting.
Never had they seen the Master speak in such warm tones...
The Master continued:
"Since you've offered me peach in courtesy, I shall return it with plum. I, too, must give you something."
"Along your journey, you've heard enough empty proverbs to wear out your ears. I'm not your teacher and unfit to lecture, so I won't give you meaningless platitudes."
"Instead, I'll give you something practical, a painting. How about it?"
Chen Kuang glanced up. The Grandmaster from Great Zhou, who had just missed him, was now charging back once again.
Now was not the time to be picky.
He nodded quickly.
"If the Master offers wise words, I shall accept them with reverence and follow them faithfully. But if it is a painting that no one else possesses, then I would be all the more honored."
"Sycophant!" the Master scolded. "Greasy flatterer!"
Chen Kuang blinked, then smiled. He could tell the Master wasn't truly angry.
"Next time, remember not to say such nauseating nonsense in front of me," the Master said. "To speak without acting, such is shameful to a gentleman."
So that was it... He didn't mind the gratitude, just hated flattery without sincerity.
Suddenly, the wings of the paper crane in Chen Kuang's hand flapped. It rose into the air, but only an inch from his palm, it disintegrated, turning into a slightly yellowed sheet of paper.
That paper caught the wind and instantly unfurled into a long scroll.
Like a ribbon, it danced on the breeze, within moments it had floated over to the five Grandmasters of Great Zhou and encircled them completely.
The Zhou Grandmaster's pupils contracted. His heart filled with uncertainty.
He had heard the Master's voice, of course. But this scroll showed no sign of Spiritual Energy, no special aura, just ordinary paper.
But no matter what, they could not let Chen Kuang escape.
Hesitating only for a moment, the Grandmaster charged through the scroll's layered coils.
But as soon as he stepped in...
His expression went blank. He froze.
No force held him back. No energy bound his limbs.
Only that, before his eyes, the world had changed.
In a single blink, the world became a paradise of green meadows, flowers in bloom, and birdsong.
He thought himself trapped in an illusion and activated every technique he knew, rushing madly through this indistinguishable heaven, but no matter how far he ran, he always returned to the beginning.
Ten times. A hundred times. A thousand. Ten thousand...
From determination, to rage, to confusion, to despair.
Time became meaningless. Eventually, even his thoughts dissolved into fog. All that remained was a blank, vacant grin.
Chen Kuang reached out and caught the scroll as it fluttered back to him.
He unfurled it fully, it measured five chi in length.
On it, in flowing, expressive brushwork, was a painting of a fantastical land of strange flowers, winding vines, and rugged mountains.
At each one-chi mark, a person was drawn, their garments fluttering, faces filled with serene joy, like immortals in carefree leisure.
To ordinary mortals, these five were indeed like immortals.
But they were no celestial beings.
They were the five Grandmasters of Great Zhou.
Now, vividly immortalized as living figures within the painting.
In just the blink of an eye...
Chen Kuang fell silent. He took a deep breath, looked around at the stunned spectators and the frozen Ji Wangquan, then raised his voice and declared:
"Many thanks to the Master for this Five Immortals Scroll. I shall treasure it with all my heart!"
The Master's voice came faintly:
"You know how to gild the lily. These petty men, though they call themselves Grandmasters, live like dogs and flies, chasing scraps day and night. In two or three centuries, they would perish anyway. Might as well join my painting now."
Chen Kuang said sincerely:
"The Master's gift is far too generous. I know not how to repay it."
The Master chuckled:
"I have yet to enter the world. It's only right that my parting gift be generous."
Chen Kuang laughed quietly.
Yes, the Master was leaving.
But before he went, Chen Kuang had a debt to collect, from Ji Chengtian.
He carefully stored the scroll and turned a cold, steely gaze toward the suddenly pale Eldest Princess of Great Zhou, Ji Wangquan!