When Wen Chai heard that question, his expression immediately stiffened.
His earlier look of weary frustration had seemed relaxed and natural, but in that instant, every muscle in his face tensed as though struck by lightning, locking into place.
The corners of his mouth, which had been upturned in a faint smirk, instantly flattened and pulled downward.
Those previously warm and mild eyes now gleamed with a steely sharpness, like a sword unsheathed. Anyone who met that gaze would involuntarily feel a chill run through their heart.
Only now could one realize: this man, who appeared to be wallowing in pleasures of the flesh and had grown soft from wine and women, was in truth a noble of imperial blood who had entered the army at sixteen, carving his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Wen Chai looked across at the scab-headed Taoist and slowly exhaled, his voice low and solemn:
"Daoist Wuya, are you certain you want to tell me where the Elixir of Immortality is?"
His gaze was calm, yet suffused with an oppressive pressure.
"Previously, I asked you this question countless times, but Daoist, you never gave a straight answer... I had no choice but to invite you to temporarily rest within my estate."
"For two full months, I have come to know just how tight-lipped you are, and how skilled you are at speaking in riddles."
"And now, suddenly, you take the initiative to ask me if I want to know..."
Wen Chai gave an inscrutable smile.
"Tell me, Daoist, should I say I want to know, or that I don't?"
The scab-headed Taoist, Jiang Wuya, smiled broadly, revealing a full mouth of yellow teeth:
"Prince, do you believe this old Daoist to be fickle and untrustworthy?"
He chuckled.
"And why shouldn't I be?"
"I didn't tell you before, because the time wasn't right. I tell you now, because it is."
"Is that so contradictory?"
Having said that, Jiang Wuya lifted one leg from beneath his Daoist robe, crossed it over the other, jiggled it for a moment, then used his fingers to scrape some dried mud off his shin. He rolled it into a little pellet and flicked it away.
The green-pea-sized dirt clod landed squarely beside Wen Chai's boot. Despite all his composure as a prince of imperial blood, he couldn't help but twitch his face, nearly losing his temper.
And only now did it become clear: both of Jiang Wuya's ankles were shackled by enormously thick iron chains, threaded straight through the bone.
So thick were these chains that one might suspect, if they were just a bit thicker, they would sever his feet entirely!
Along the chains shimmered faint blood-red talismanic markings, clearly showing that powerful spatial sealing techniques had been embedded within them, used to imprison this grotesque, misshapen Daoist.
Jiang Wuya was not some honored guest of Wen Chai's estate.
He was a prisoner!
As the chains clattered and jingled, Jiang Wuya himself showed no awareness of his status as a captive.
Wen Chai's voice was low, his tone dark:
"Then may I ask, Daoist, what time has come?"
Jiang Wuya's expression instantly turned solemn.
His squinting eyes glowed with a faint violet hue, deep and mysterious, as if capable of perceiving the mandate of Heaven itself.
At that moment, even his hideous appearance seemed to lose its repulsiveness, for those all-seeing eyes were dazzlingly brilliant.
He said:
"What if I told you... the time has come that you, Prince, missed twenty years ago, the chance to take the throne in place of your brother?"
Wen Chai's face remained expressionless, but beneath the sleeve of his robe, his hand had already clenched into a fist, so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palm.
But Jiang Wuya's serious expression only lasted a heartbeat.
He burst out laughing:
"Just kidding! No need to take it to heart, Prince, ow ow ow ow ow!!"
His face twisted in agony as he collapsed to the ground, writhing and groaning in pain.
From the point where the iron chains pierced his ankles, a dense web of blood-colored veins spread upwards, swelling grotesquely, wriggling like earthworms, delivering waves of torment.
Jiang Wuya screamed pitifully, quickly begging for mercy:
"Spare me, Prince! Spare me! These old bones of mine won't survive being crippled!"
Wen Chai watched the Daoist's pitiful display for a while.
Only after he felt he'd seen enough did he finally chuckle and speak warmly:
"Why would I cripple you? If you were so fragile, you would've been crippled the day you were captured by my men two months ago."
The pain finally subsided. Jiang Wuya remained curled on the ground like a shrimp for a while before slowly sitting up again, drenched in sweat.
Wen Chai returned to his seat and poured himself a cup of tea.
"Now then, Daoist Wuya, are you ready to speak plainly?"
Jiang Wuya let out a long breath, his grin returning.
"Tell me, Prince, where do you think the Elixir of Immortality is?"
Wen Chai sipped his tea, already knowing this old charlatan was going to spin riddles again. Calmly, he replied:
"The imperial capital of Liang is already gone. Su Yu and Huo Hengxuan are dead. And yet Ji Chengtian still insists on hunting down that group."
"There can only be one explanation, and three possibilities."
"Chu Wenruo, Su Huaiying, or Chen Kuang."
"And now... Chen Kuang has supposedly died at the hands of the Martial Saint. So only Chu Wenruo and Su Huaiying remain. I suspect it lies with Su Huaiying."
Jiang Wuya grinned:
"Prince, are you so sure that Chen Kuang is truly dead?"
Wen Chai froze, abruptly rising to his feet:
"Impossible!"
"It was in full view of the public. The Martial Saint acted personally. Chen Kuang's corpse was taken by an unknown great demon. All of this is confirmed by countless witnesses!"
Jiang Wuya sat on the ground and casually started scratching his foot again:
"Impossible? Heh... perhaps not."
Wen Chai's mind flashed with a jolt.
He had almost forgotten, this pitiful-looking Taoist in front of him was most likely the one who had originally presented the Elixir of Immortality to Su Yu.
If anyone in the world knew where Su Yu had ultimately hidden the Elixir, it was none other than this man.
And they all knew: the Elixir of Immortality... was far more than just an elixir.
No material under Heaven could create something that defied the laws of Heaven itself!
And if the person who possessed the Elixir was Chen Kuang, then for him to return from the dead... wouldn't even be surprising.
Wen Chai suddenly recalled the instructions this Taoist had given him days prior.
Now it all made sense.
"You had me give that Glazed Image-Freezing Lamp to Liu Qingcheng because it could locate Chen Kuang?"
Jiang Wuya finished scratching and then sniffed his fingers in delight, face full of bliss:
"So clever, Prince! You've learned to analyze things. How delightful!"
"Chen Kuang is probably lounging in that Liu girl's room right now~"
Wen Chai had no time to deal with Jiang Wuya's insufferable sarcasm.
He immediately summoned his attendants and barked:
"Prepare the horses! I'm going to the Imperial Ancestral Temple!"
His subordinate hesitated:
"Shall we inform His Majesty...?"
The Imperial Ancestral Temple of the Yang Kingdom was located in the imperial capital of Rui'anzhou, quite far from Zangfeng Prefecture.
Ordinarily, if Prince Jingnan wished to enter Rui'anzhou, he was required to report it in advance, especially when entering the Ancestral Temple.
Though the Emperor officially claimed this was to "ensure proper arrangements and hospitality for his beloved brother,"
everyone knew it was really to keep Prince Jingnan under close watch.
Even in his old age and debauchery, the Emperor had never relaxed his vigilance against him.
Wen Chai paused, then spoke in a low voice:
"No need."
"I am merely going to pay respects to Old Madam Wangshu. No need to alarm His Majesty."
The attendant immediately knelt in acknowledgment and swiftly left.
But as he turned to go, his back was already drenched in cold sweat.
Because that name, Wangshu, was none other than:
Lady Wangshu, Sovereign Princess of Yang.
A living female Saint of the Yang Kingdom.
It was said that this female Saint, Lady Wangshu, had once been a concubine of the founding emperor of the Yang Kingdom.
Though she had pursued the Dao and attained sainthood, she remained bound by sentiment and continued to reside within the Imperial Ancestral Temple, keeping watch over the tomb of that former sovereign.
Now, Wen Chai not only planned to enter Rui'anzhou without prior notice, but also intended to go directly into the Ancestral Temple to meet Lady Wangshu herself...
The implications of such an action could not be more obvious!
Wen Chai watched his subordinate depart, then exhaled deeply and spoke:
"Tong Shi, Han Shan."
"Present!" "Present!"
Two figures abruptly appeared nearby and immediately dropped to their knees, bowing respectfully toward Wen Chai.
These two were both of Master Realm cultivation.
Yet both their eyes were clouded over with a milky white film, and their ears had been sliced clean off, with two pieces of warm jade embedded into the wounds.
This indicated that they were specially-trained high-level deaths worn subordinates.
They could neither hear nor see, measures taken to ensure the strictest secrecy. Much like how palace musicians were traditionally blind, though this was even more brutal.
These two, despite possessing powerful cultivation, were denied any pleasure or reward from it. They lived and died as blades, tools wielded by others.
They had remained by Wen Chai's side throughout his earlier conversation with Jiang Wuya, constantly alert for any irregularities in the Daoist's behavior.
When Jiang Wuya had first been captured, Wen Chai had been stunned to discover that this man, once honored by Su Yu as a National Receptor, had no cultivation whatsoever.
This was an exceedingly abnormal thing.
Even if he were a complete fraud, he shouldn't be a mere mortal.
Otherwise, he could never have held the position of National Preceptor for so many years, let alone be so deeply entwined with the Elixir of Immortality!
But over the last two months, Wen Chai had conducted countless tests, and each one confirmed the same conclusion: Jiang Wuya truly was just an ordinary man.
Wen Chai found it incomprehensible, but he couldn't very well kill the Daoist just to confirm it.
In the end, he had no choice but to honor Jiang Wuya's one and only request, to gift the Glazed Image-Freezing Lamp to Liu Qingcheng.
He had never expected it to actually yield such an unexpected harvest.
Wen Chai now invoked a special heaven-and-earth binding technique, using the warm jade in the deathsworn's ears to communicate directly with them:
"You two, immediately go to Xuni Pavillion. Lock down the entire premises. Demand that Liu Qingcheng return the Glazed Image-Freezing Lamp. If she cannot produce it, invite her, politely, to the princely estate."
"If anyone obstructs you, kill them without hesitation. Remember, your objective is singular."
The then deathsworn left without a sound.
Wen Chai gave Jiang Wuya one last glance before hurriedly departing himself.
Only Jiang Wuya remained in the rear garden.
After a while, he finally stopped picking his feet, looked up, and clicked his tongue:
"I'm getting bored of this princely residence already... Looks like it won't be long before this poor Daoist is free to go."
...
Meanwhile, Chen Kuang had walked into a local branch of the Wanlin Merchant Guild.
He had changed his attire, draped in a booded black cloak, the universally acknowledged uniform of any mysterious figure.
The Wanlin Merchant Guild was easily among the top three cultivation merchant guilds in all of Cangyuan, and thanks to the rise of Lin Eryou, whose prestige had recently soared in the Canglang Evaluation, the guild's overall status had risen as well.
Though in terms of foundation, they still lagged behind the two true giants, their mastery in crafting Divine Spiritual Treasures granted them a huge share of the market, and their standing grew increasingly stable.
Thanks to his passive abilities, Chen Kuang's entrance went completely unnoticed.
Or rather, even if someone noticed, they didn't pay him any attention.
Though it was unusual to wear such garb in broad daylight, Chen Kuang was like a droplet falling into the ocean, blending in without making the slightest ripple.
This particular branch of the Wanlin Merchant Guild was enormous, essentially a full-scale guild hall. It hosted visiting merchants, offered rest and accommodations, and provided other services.
The bottom three floors were dedicated to sales counters and exhibition rooms for Divine Spiritual Treasures and other merchandise.
The upper two levels housed private guest rooms and reception halls.
Chen Kuang strode unimpeded to the reception hall on the upper level. The guildmaster Chang Zhen was in the middle of an intense discussion with others about the transfer of a certain Divine Spiritual Treasure.
Chen Kuang waited in a corner as Chang Zhen finalized the matter and escorted the senior elders of the guild from the room.
Chang Zhen finally exhaled and turned to sit down and rest.
But out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught sight of a black-robed figure in the corner.
Chang Zhen's body suddenly jolted.
His face changed dramatically and he instinctively took two steps back, forced himself to remain calm, and asked in a low voice:
"May I ask which esteemed senior has graced our Wanlin Merchant Guild with their presence? What brings you here?"
As a seasoned businessman, Chang Zhen instantly recognized that the other party was no ordinary visitor. His first reaction was to yield and flatter, giving full face while subtly reminding the guest not to make trouble in this place.
Looks like negotiations might go more smoothly than expected...
Chen Kuang replied:
"No need for 'esteemed senior.' You may call me White Dragon True Lord."
The voice was entirely unfamiliar, not resembling any of the enemies in Chang Zhen's mental list.
And the man's tone didn't seem hostile either.
If anything, he seemed... rather amicable.
Chang Zhen eased up slightly, but remained cautious.
High-level cultivators were known to mask their moods. They might be smiling one moment and slaughtering your whole family the next.
Chang Zhen had encountered many such individuals before. His experience had taught him to tread carefully.
"Senior White Dragon... has our Wanlin Merchant Guild perhaps offended you in some way? If so, I promise we will make full amends!"
Chen Kuang shook his head.
"It's not the Wanlin Merchant Guild."
Chang Zhen blinked.
"Then may I ask... why have you come?"
Chen Kuang lifted his hand and revealed the jade pendant he wore.
Chang Zhen's heart sank. He immediately recognized it!
Over the past several years, only about a dozen of those jade pendants had ever been given out. Anyone holding one was considered a distinguished guest of the Wanlin Merchant Guild.
Chang Zhen's expression immediately transformed into a bright, professional smile:
"Ah, so you are one of our honored guests! Have you taken a liking to any of our Divine Spiritual Treasures? I shall have it delivered to you immediately!"
Chen Kuang sighed and shook his head again.
"When I shake my head, I mean to say, the one who offended me isn't the Wanlin Merchant Guild..."
He raised his head and finished the sentence calmly:
"It's your son."
The smile on Chang Zhen's face froze instantly.
But it only lasted a second.
Without hesitation, he bowed deeply and declared:
"I will bring Chang Yao here at once and have him apologize to you in person! If you wish to kill or punish him, do as you please! I will harbor no resentment whatsoever!"