Departing the primal rainforest teeming with life, Tang Xiao Qi traveled north, returning to the heart of human civilization—the Central Province. This time, his destination wasn't a rural town but the apex of secular power—the Tianque Imperial City, the heart of the Central Province Dynasty.
The imperial city was majestic, palaces connected in succession, vermillion walls and golden tiles, grand and magnificent. Unlike the rustic border towns, the resolute Northern Plains tribes, the struggling East Sea fishing villages, the faithful Western Desert caravans, or the wild Southern Border forests, here pervaded an extreme order, prosperity, and beneath that order and prosperity, an ever-flowing undercurrent of power struggles.
Xiao Qi still sealed his cultivation, disguised as an ordinary scholar touring for study, renting a quiet courtyard outside the outer city. He wandered teahouses and wine shops daily, visited academies and markets, seemingly studying classics and histories, but actually with his transcendent mindset and keen perception, quietly observing this giant city and the human dramas revolving around supreme imperial power.
The timing of his arrival was quite delicate. The old emperor was frail and bedridden for a long time, yet the succession remained unresolved. Three adult princes, each backed by enormous forces, were locked in increasingly intense secret and open struggle.
The First Prince was the eldest legitimate son, most rightful by birth, backed by traditional noble clans and some conservative scholars, emphasizing ritual and tradition, though somewhat rigid in approach.
The Second Prince was clever and agile, good at making friends, closely connected with emerging merchant forces and young officials advocating reform, advocating progress and advancement, though sometimes radical in methods.
The Third Prince had a powerful maternal clan with deep military connections, was skilled in archery and horsemanship with military achievements on the border, decisive in character, even somewhat obstinate.
Xiao Qi watched coldly, witnessing how power gradually corroded hearts.
He saw scholars who prided themselves on integrity fabricate charges and frame loyal officials to curry favor with princes. He saw blood-related brothers, driven by profit, set traps to destroy each other. He saw generals who once swore loyalty to the throne begin swaying, holding troops hostage under princes' recruitment. He even saw seemingly delicate consorts in the harem, for their sons' futures, employ methods more sinister and ruthless than battlefield warfare.
Inside the imperial city, the surface still maintained the facade of flourishing prosperity, music and dance, but secretly, informants, framed accusations, assassinations, faction-building... all manner of filth prevailed. The temptation of power was like the sweetest poison, causing countless people to lose themselves. Father-son affection, brotherly bonds, the relationship between ruler and subject—all seemed fragile beyond compare before the ultimate power struggle.
Xiao Qi also witnessed those who struggled in the vortex of power yet still tried to hold onto their bottom line. An elderly Hanlin scholar, for refusing to ally with any prince, was dismissed from office. Leaving the capital, he had only cartloads of books despite his integrity. An upright magistrate who impartially handled a case involving a prince's follower "accidentally" fell from his horse and died shortly after. There were also low-ranking officials and ordinary city guards who perhaps couldn't see the big picture but still fulfilled their duties, maintaining this massive city's most basic operations.
However, individual integrity against the rushing torrent of power was often like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.
The change erupted suddenly one night.
The chronically ill old emperor suddenly died without leaving a clear succession decree. The three princes and their backers instantly discarded their last pretense, and military conflict erupted throughout the imperial city!
The First Prince occupied the palace, declaring succession by birthright. The Second Prince controlled most of the outer city and some central government institutions, accusing the First Prince of forging the decree. The Third Prince mobilized the imperial garrison loyal to him, stationed outside the city, demanding "clearing of treacherous officials."
In one night, the prosperous Tianque Imperial City became an apocalyptic battlefield. Familiar streets became battlegrounds where opposing armies clashed, fires blazed, screams echoed, countless civilians died in the chaos, and prosperous markets turned to scorched earth. The power struggle ultimately presented itself in the most direct, most cruel, bloodletting manner.
Xiao Qi stood on his courtyard's roof, silently watching all this. He did not intervene—this was the turmoil of mortal dynasty power succession, part of the rules. He merely observed and experienced the human nature and society twisted to extremes by power.
However, as the civil war dragged on for days, both sides stalemated, the dynasty's foundation teetering toward collapse under internal exhaustion, and foreign enemies watched covetously—unexpectedly, a figure stepped forward.
It was the young uncle of the deceased emperor, a prince who had been obsessed with calligraphy and painting, uninvolved in politics, regarded as an idle royal. When everyone was blood-mad, he held what was said to be a genuine succession decree secretly given by the dying emperor, stamped with the imperial seal, designating a young prince known for benevolence to inherit, with the prince and several neutral elders as regents.
He had no powerful army, no intertwined factional connections—only a perhaps genuine decree and a posture of rare clarity and transcendence amid the power vortex.
He stood before the blood-filled palace gates, not accusing any nephew, only heartbreakedly stating the terrifying consequences if the civil war continued—the dynasty's fragmentation, foreign invasion, suffering masses. He appealed to all parties to lay down arms, prioritize the dynasty's survival and the world's common good, jointly support the young prince and restore order.
Initially, the blood-mad generals scoffed at him. But just then, urgent military news arrived from the border—the northern barbarians, seeing Central Province's internal strife, had assembled a massive army, broken through the frontier passes, and marched directly inward!
The foreign threat was like a basin of ice water, sobering those with any remaining reason. The situation began to shift subtly.
Ultimately, under enormous pressure of internal strife and external invasion, the forces behind the three princes had to compromise temporarily, accepting the proposal of regency by the prince and support for the young prince. The brutal civil war ended unexpectedly in this manner.
Xiao Qi watched that prince, originally at the power's periphery, at crisis, relying not on force but responsibility, clarity and grasp of the overall situation, turn the tide, averting the dynasty's complete collapse. He saw that power wasn't solely corrosive—when combined with responsibility and wisdom, it could also stabilize order and shelter the common people.
The imperial city gradually restored order, licking its wounds, preparing to face the northern foreign threat.
Xiao Qi also quietly departed this city that had taught him a profound lesson about power.
He understood that power itself was neither good nor evil—it was like fire, bringing warmth and light, but also destruction and disaster. The key lay in the person controlling the power, their nature, wisdom, and whether they bore a sense of responsibility toward the common people. Indulging in power itself would ultimately be consumed by it; transcending its temptation and using it as a tool was the only way to truly practice "protection" on a larger scale.
This experience at the Central Province Imperial City raised his understanding of "order,""responsibility," and "human hearts" to a new height. The opportunity for Spirit Transformation seemed within reach after tempering in the mortal world's various conditions. He felt he was getting closer to that critical point.