The letter contained only a few lines, yet each word struck like a thunderbolt.
It turned out that heavy rains had recently battered the areas around the capital, causing rivers to swell wildly until the Huai River dam burst, flooding over a dozen nearby villages!
The local magistrate, fearing imperial reprimand, had concealed the disaster, leaving countless civilians displaced and reduced to refugees.
Now, a furious tide of refugees was surging toward the capital, barely a hundred miles away...
The letter was swiftly delivered to the pavilion master. Young Master Lang was at that moment embracing a beauty while drinking. Upon reading it, he clapped his hands and laughed coldly: "What a splendid cover-up! How many more families will be torn apart by the floods, how many more lives lost... Ha ha ha ha!"
His laughter was icy, his eyes gleaming with a madness that seemed to scorn the world itself.
The portly shopkeeper shuddered inwardly. Young Master had grown increasingly uncontrollable lately. Hurriedly, he added, "This subordinate has just received word—some of the refugees have already reached the foot of Guardian Temple Mountain. The rest will arrive by nightfall at the latest!"
"Guardian Temple?" Young Master Lang waved a dismissive hand. "Good. That old bald monk Liaokong can finally have a taste of chaos..."
"But Miss Chu went there this morning!"
At those words, Young Master Lang's gaze sharpened like a blade. "What did you say?"
The shopkeeper noted his master's sudden interest and bent lower. "It's true. Her entire family left early this morning. By now, they should be arriving!"
Guardian Temple, once bustling with worshippers, was now a beacon of danger.
The refugees, exhausted and starving after their long journey, would surely descend upon it like ravenous beasts.
"That blind little fool—always stumbling into trouble!" Young Master Lang cursed under his breath, then narrowed his eyes. "Send word to the Shuntian Prefecture—no, deliver it directly to Chu Huaishan!"
The palace.
Chu Huaishan rushed into the imperial chambers the moment he read the letter. Xie Zhizhou was already before the emperor, his voice grave: "Your Majesty, the magistrate of Huai County concealed the disaster at every level. By the time this official discovered the truth, the dam had already been breached for three days. Corpses float everywhere, countless lives lost. I beg Your Majesty to immediately dispatch troops to arrest the culprit and execute him publicly to appease the people!"
The emperor frowned, silent. Chu Huaishan stepped forward. "Your Majesty! The greater urgency lies in the refugees marching north—they are nearly upon the capital. Their numbers exceed a thousand!"
"What?"
Huai County bordered the capital. With such a catastrophe, the refugees' advance was inevitable.
The emperor, previously hesitant, now snapped into action. "Summon Prince Qin and Prince Yu. Each shall lead five thousand soldiers to suppress the unrest. And the Five-City Garrison—tell its commander to secure the capital. If even a single mishap occurs, he will answer with his head!"
Meanwhile, on Purple Cloud Path.
Chu Ruoyan and her party arrived, and an immediate sense of unease settled over her.
The path was narrow, flanked by dense forests—perfect for an ambush...
"What kind of place is this? Our carriage got stuck here..." Gu Feiyan trailed off, then gasped. "Wait—where’s our carriage? And the servants? The coachmen? They’re all gone!"
She pointed ahead, where only wheel marks remained in the dirt.
Zou Yue shivered, pulling her robes tighter. "They were supposed to wait for us here..."
Rong Su called out bravely, "Cuiwei! Biluo! Can you hear me?"
Only her own echo answered through the empty woods.
The silence was chilling.
Chu Ruoyan sensed danger. "We’re leaving. Now."
Lady Jiang the Younger agreed. "Listen to Miss Chu. Move!"
The carriages sped away.
Moments after their departure, dozens of figures emerged from the forest—faces hollow, clothes in tatters. Behind them lay the unconscious forms of Cuiwei, Biluo, and the others.
Guardian Temple.
Only upon arriving did the group feel the oppressive dread lift from their shoulders.
Gu Feiyan grumbled about the disobedient servants, while Chu Ruoyan greeted her aunt and relayed the strange events on Purple Cloud Path. Just then, the abbot approached.
"Worry not, noble lady. Guardian Temple is an imperial sanctuary. No troublemakers would dare act here."
Chu Ruoyan bowed slightly. "Reverend Abbot, the situation is suspicious. I implore you to send someone to alert the authorities."
The abbot nodded politely but dismissed her concerns inwardly.
In all his years at Guardian Temple, not even a mosquito had caused trouble. How could anything happen now?
Yet a solemn voice interrupted: "Amitabha."
Master Liaokong stepped forward.
"Abbot, this lady speaks the truth. Please dispatch a messenger."
Liaokong’s status was unparalleled. Even if the abbot disregarded Chu Ruoyan’s plea, he could not ignore Liaokong’s counsel.
A monk was sent at once.
The others bowed. "Greetings, Master Liaokong."
The master clasped his hands, his wise gaze sweeping over them.
It was well-known that Liaokong read fortunes—just as he had once done for Consort Xue. If fate deemed it, he might offer guidance.
But this time, his eyes lingered on Chu Ruoyan, who stood indifferent.
"Noble lady, your presence honors our humble temple. Might this old monk speak with you alone?"
Gu Feiyan and the others seethed with envy.
Before Chu Ruoyan could respond, Chu Jing nudged her forward. "Please, Master!"
Liaokong’s chamber.
Inside, the old monk lit three sticks of incense, prayed, then spoke softly: "Noble lady, forgive my boldness—but was your mother’s surname Pei?"
"Pei?"
Chu Ruoyan blinked. "No. My mother was of the Jiang family."
"Jiang? That cannot be..." Liaokong’s fingers moved in silent calculation before he fell quiet.
"What are you trying to say, Master?"
Liaokong exhaled deeply. "Noble lady, if my vision is true... your mother bore the destiny of a phoenix."
"Phoenix destiny?!"
No wonder he had asked about the Pei name—the current empress was Lady Pei!
Chu Ruoyan’s eyes flashed. "Master, do not jest. My mother was the Jiang family’s eldest daughter. Her younger sister, who accompanied me today, can attest to this!"
Liaokong shook his head. "Calm yourself, noble lady. This old monk merely speaks as the scriptures guide..."
"Scriptures? Do you not realize how easily your words can ruin lives?" Her fists clenched, thinking of Yan Zheng—branded with the "lone star" curse as a child, shunned by his family, all because of this monk’s prophecy.
Liaokong seemed to read her thoughts. "Amitabha. You may disbelieve, but you cannot deny—every fate I’ve foretold has come to pass."
Chu Ruoyan scoffed. "Then what of my fate, Master? Have you seen it?"
Liaokong stiffened, his face darkening. "That... I cannot say."
"Cannot? Or is it that you see noth—"
A young monk burst in, panting. "Master Liaokong! The abbot requests your presence! The brother sent down the mountain—he’s met with trouble!"
