Chapter Twenty-Three: The Gathering to Capture the Culprit

After hearing the Fourth Prince’s explanation, Wang Changsheng found the entire affair absurdly dramatic.

“So many coincidences... How can there be so many?” Suspicion clouded Wang Changsheng’s face.

Originally, he had only intended to sneak into the Fourth Prince’s residence at night to search for any clue to Fang Qing’s disappearance. Yet, before he could even begin his investigation, he was caught red-handed—a most awkward turn of events.

What surprised Wang Changsheng even more was that Fang Qing had been captured by people working for the First Prince.

If Fang Qing had simply fallen out with the Fourth Prince and been detained by him, that would be easier to handle. With his own abilities, Wang Changsheng could have tried to negotiate or mount a rescue. But facing the First Prince was another matter entirely. Even the two bodyguards he had encountered were cultivators at the third stage of the Open Vein realm—far beyond Wang Changsheng’s own strength. After weighing his chances, he realized he had no hope of prevailing.

Moreover, who was to say the First Prince didn’t have even stronger cultivators in his retinue?

Adding to his embarrassment, Wang Changsheng now found himself unable to leave even if he wanted to.

“Master Wang, you know you can’t be absent from the Daoist Symposium three months from now...” The Fourth Prince spoke with resignation. “That woman just now named you specifically as a participant. I’m afraid you won’t be able to escape this.”

“Surely not!” Wang Changsheng replied anxiously. “I’m just a minor figure—they surely wouldn’t remember me!”

“They may not, but others will,” the Fourth Prince said gravely. “Those who were following behind her have surely taken note of this.”

Wang Changsheng’s expression changed at once.

Since the upcoming Daoist Symposium was so important, nearly every cultivator at the Heaven’s Crossing level would attend. What if he ran into Li Fusheng? Judging by how deeply Li Fusheng had been wronged, he might well try to swallow Wang Changsheng whole on sight.

“I’ll just have to take things one step at a time,” Wang Changsheng thought to himself.

“Since you’re here, Master Wang, why not stay at my residence?” the Fourth Prince offered in a low voice. “General Fang shouldn’t be in any mortal danger. I’ll try to pull some strings with those seniors—I’m sure he’ll be returned safely.”

After some thought, Wang Changsheng nodded solemnly. “Then I thank Your Highness. I’ll go pack my things and come back straightaway.”

“Excellent!” The Fourth Prince smiled. “You are most welcome here, Master Wang!”

When Wang Changsheng returned to Fang Qing’s small courtyard, he immediately spotted a veiled woman standing inside.

He couldn’t discern her cultivation, but judging by her attire, she must have been one of the attendant maids he had seen on the cloud barge that day.

Suppressing his instinct to turn and flee, Wang Changsheng forced himself forward—she had already seen him, after all.

“You must be Fellow Wang,” the maid said.

Wang Changsheng nodded.

Without further ado, the maid produced a gilded invitation. “My mistress instructed me to deliver this. Please attend on time, Fellow Wang.”

With that, she gave Wang Changsheng no chance to refuse. Turning, she vanished from his sight in an instant.

Upon opening the invitation, Wang Changsheng found, just as the Fourth Prince had warned, that although the leading lady might have spoken impulsively, her followers had taken it seriously enough to deliver this special summons to him.

As for how they knew where he was staying, it must have been trivial for such powerful figures.

“It seems there’s no running from this. Still, at least I have no real stake in the matter. I can just sit back and watch the show,” Wang Changsheng muttered.

He packed his belongings—which, in truth, consisted only of his remaining spirit stones, his entire fortune—and returned to the Fourth Prince’s residence, where the prince himself greeted him, and had prepared a generous spread of food and wine in his honor.

After some conversation, Wang Changsheng retired to the small courtyard the Fourth Prince had arranged for him.

“The environment here is much nicer than Fang Qing’s place, though the spiritual energy is just as thin,” Wang Changsheng mused.

In the world of cultivation, status was measured not just by one’s strength, but also by the concentration of spiritual energy in one’s dwelling. To ordinary folk, the Fourth Prince’s status in the Yunfeng Empire must seem exalted indeed. Yet his residence was just an ordinary place with scant spiritual energy.

On the bright side, Wang Changsheng could now settle into his cultivation undisturbed. After all, the Fourth Prince had no reason to harm him.

He retrieved his second mid-grade spirit stone and began to cultivate.

Surrounded by so many powerful cultivators, Wang Changsheng felt more than ever the importance of personal strength.

Several days passed in a blur. Sensing someone entering his courtyard, Wang Changsheng awoke from his meditation.

He glanced at the spirit stone in his hand. It had lost little of its energy. Wang Changsheng breathed a sigh of relief.

“With a stone like this, I can keep cultivating for quite some time,” he thought, putting it away and opening the door.

“Senior Brother!”

Fang Qing bowed to Wang Changsheng.

“No need for ceremony,” Wang Changsheng said with a smile. “I’m just glad you made it back alive.”

Indeed, with the First Prince ordering a citywide search for anyone connected to the Fourth Prince, even a slight association could bring trouble. That Fang Qing had been taken and returned alive was sheer luck.

Wang Changsheng guessed that the Fourth Prince must have intervened on his behalf.

“You’re not too badly hurt, I hope?” Wang Changsheng asked.

Fang Qing nodded. “Just some superficial wounds. I’ll recover after some rest.”

At that moment, Fang Qing looked pale, with faint traces of blood seeping through his clothes—a clear sign he’d suffered at the hands of the First Prince’s men.

“A little suffering can be a good lesson,” Wang Changsheng thought.

He had tried to stop Fang Qing from leaving before, but to no avail. Now, having tasted hardship, Fang Qing might become more cautious—which, for him, could only be beneficial.

Fang Qing also took up residence in the Fourth Prince’s compound. Both men kept to themselves; all their news came via the Fourth Prince’s messengers, or sometimes from the prince himself.

There was one piece of good news for the Fourth Prince: the cultivators who had descended from the Heavenly Realm had made it clear that, regardless of the power struggle, they would not favor any prince. In fact, it seemed they didn’t care who seized power, so long as the winner obeyed their wishes.

“So it comes down to dealing with the First Prince’s experts,” Fang Qing said gravely. “But we don’t seem to have any advantage. I can’t handle them.”

“It’s not just you, General,” the Fourth Prince replied ruefully. “None of my people can stand against my eldest brother’s experts.”

“That’s not much of a silver lining...” Wang Changsheng laughed from across the room. “If we can’t beat them anyway, it hardly matters whether those powerful cultivators intervene or not.”

“If they do step in, perhaps we can lose with a bit more dignity.”

“Senior Brother...” Fang Qing looked embarrassed. He hadn’t expected Wang Changsheng to make light of the situation at such a time.

Yet the Fourth Prince merely remarked, “Master Wang has a point. I’ve thought it over, and my best hope may be to win the support of those powerful cultivators.”

After conferring with Fang Qing, the Fourth Prince departed.

Wang Changsheng smiled ambiguously.

“For people of their level, none of this matters. Why would they bother helping?” he mused.

Once, Wang Changsheng had stood at the very pinnacle of the martial world, deciding the fate of nations. He knew well that, to the truly powerful, ordinary struggles for power held no interest. The same was true even in the cultivation world.

To those cultivators, it didn’t matter who emerged victorious—as long as the winner obeyed them, nothing else was of consequence.

Wang Changsheng immersed himself in his cultivation. Two months passed, and he had absorbed half of a spirit stone, feeling himself on the verge of a breakthrough.

What puzzled him was that, although he now required more spiritual energy to advance, this mid-grade spirit stone lasted longer than before. Wang Changsheng pondered the mystery, but found no answer and eventually let the matter rest.

No matter—so long as the stone could sustain his cultivation and help him reach a higher realm, that was enough.

A thunderous rumbling sounded within Wang Changsheng’s body, as true energy surged through his meridians, assailing them with wave after wave.

“This is the moment!”

With a muffled sound, blood trickled from the corner of Wang Changsheng’s lips. Yet he paid it no mind, instead smiling with satisfaction.

“I didn’t expect forcing a breakthrough to be so difficult.”

He wiped away the blood, watching as the spirit stone in his hand crumbled to dust, his face alight with contentment.

Half a month earlier, he had sensed the bottleneck he faced and had tried again and again to break through with spiritual energy, but to no avail. His true energy remained unchanged. When he finally discovered the true barrier in his meridians, he instantly understood why he had been unable to advance.

Forcing his way past this threshold had left his meridians slightly damaged, but that would heal with rest. Compared to achieving a breakthrough, such injuries were a small price to pay.

“So this is why having resources and guidance speeds up cultivation,” Wang Changsheng reflected.

Looking back, had someone told him earlier that advancing to the third stage of the Open Vein realm required breaking through the meridian barrier, he might have already done so when he first sensed the bottleneck—perhaps even advanced sooner.

The time and spiritual energy he had wasted were resources he would never recover.

After three full months of secluded cultivation, Wang Changsheng had broken through, reaching the third stage of the Open Vein realm. After tending to his meridians with gentle true energy, he stood up, exhaled a long breath, and stepped out of his room.

From his robe, he produced the gilded invitation. It was time to see for himself what sort of event this Daoist Symposium—truthfully a grand gathering to hunt down the culprit—would be, and why it would not let him leave.

“Perhaps there will be quite a spectacle to behold...”

A mysterious smile crept across Wang Changsheng’s lips as he considered what was to come.