Chapter 90: Master, Should We Take Him Down?

Great Zhou, the imperial capital.

Arriving simultaneously with the news of the old emperor’s death were reports that Liang’s armies had invaded the border, and that the Human Emperor’s Sword had manifested and been seized by Ji Huo, who escaped into Mount Tianjue. The court was thrown into turmoil.

The Crown Prince declared his succession, and the Fourth Prince immediately launched a coup to seize the throne. The entire capital was plunged into chaos.

“Heh,” Ji Junhong chuckled softly, glancing teasingly at Scholar Wen. “So, sir, what do you think? Did the Human Emperor’s Sword end up in Huo’s hands?”

Scholar Wen wiped away imaginary sweat, forcing a bitter smile. “Master, your intellect is unmatched, your foresight flawless. I am truly in awe.”

Ji Junhong laughed. “It was just a hunch—I merely spoke my mind.”

Scholar Wen pressed, “Master, now that the court is in chaos and foreign enemies are at our gates, what should we do?”

Ji Junhong replied leisurely, “The old emperor must have made all arrangements before his departure. The throne will likely be settled in three to five days. By then, Father will probably lead the campaign, so there shouldn’t be any major issues.”

Scholar Wen was about to respond when he suddenly tilted his head, listening intently. His lips moved as if repeating some incantation, and his expression grew grave.

Ji Junhong calmly lifted his teacup, brushed aside the tea leaves, and took a slow sip.

A moment later, Scholar Wen recovered and hurriedly reported, “Master, latest intelligence—Liang’s Grand Preceptor gravely wounded the Second Young Master, who then summoned the Sword Saint’s sword intent to slay the Grand Preceptor. He went on to kill two more first-rank experts but fell unconscious, only to be rescued by a woman in purple. The two fled deep into Mount Tianjue and are currently missing!”

With a crisp “clack,” the teacup rang sharply. The smile vanished from Ji Junhong’s face as he frowned. “That shouldn’t be. With Huo’s strength—and the Human Emperor’s Sword as aid—he shouldn’t have been so desperate.”

You have great faith in the Second Young Master; those were two first-rank experts... Scholar Wen said respectfully, “That’s precisely the issue. According to rumors in the martial world, the Second Young Master was not acknowledged by the Human Emperor’s Sword. He couldn’t draw it!”

He gazed at his lord with anticipation, hoping for an explanation. The events unfolding were unprecedented in many years, and even records of the Human Emperor’s Sword existed only in a few rare ancient texts.

For a scholar who wandered the border of the occult and fate, the current situation felt as surreal as a myth come to life. Having such an insatiable curiosity, Scholar Wen, now caught in the middle of it all, was eager to know more. The mere thought of it made him feel he might make it into the “Unofficial Histories of Sorcerers.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Ji Junhong said innocently. “I’ve never seen the Human Emperor’s Sword before either—how could I have known this would happen?”

Scholar Wen: “...”

“However,” Ji Junhong pondered for two seconds, “the Human Emperor’s Sword can’t be drawn, you say...”

He rose, his robe reflecting golden patterns in the sunlight, faintly shimmering with flowing golden light.

Ji Junhong gazed toward Mount Tianjue. In his eyes swam several tiny flickering phantoms. He opened his right hand and intoned with authority, “Come, sword.”

Seconds later, a golden line blazed brilliantly across the sky, vanishing in a flash, followed by a piercing sound as it tore through the air.

Several figures in the capital glanced upward, saw nothing, and returned their attention to the palace drama unfolding within.

Scholar Wen blinked, only to find Ji Junhong now held a dazzling golden sword. With his sharp eyes, he hadn’t even seen when the sword appeared in Ji Junhong’s hand.

With his left hand gripping the sword and his right gently caressing its hilt, the Human Emperor’s Sword trembled excitedly, emitting a joyful hum.

With a clear “zing,” golden light flared!

But before half a second had passed, the radiance instantly receded, as if nothing had happened.

The sword’s triumphant song was stifled as the blade was sheathed once more, leaving it with a sense of frustrated anticipation it could not release.

The Human Emperor’s Sword: “...”

With a smile in his eyes, Ji Junhong spoke gently, “Go back now. That one is my brother, and I grant him the right to wield you. Fight alongside me, or aid him in smiting our foes—either is permitted.”

The sword sang out crisply, golden light flowing like water.

Ji Junhong tossed it lightly; the sword circled twice before him, then transformed into a golden streak and vanished into the distance.

Scholar Wen was momentarily stunned. This wasn’t how the sorcerers’ records described it at all! After a few seconds, he stammered, “That’s it?”

“Mm.” Ji Junhong sat back down, sipping his tea unhurriedly.

Collecting himself, Scholar Wen asked in a low voice, “Master, with two dragons contending for the throne and the court unstable, and with the Lord certain to lead the campaign once the new emperor is crowned—should we make our move?”

Ji Junhong glanced at Scholar Wen, shook his head with a smile. “Sir, never mind that the Grand Preceptor still sits at court. Even if I could slay him and seize the throne, how would I face my tempestuous father in the future?”

Scholar Wen frowned. That was the crux of the matter.

Ji Junhong shook his head. “It is indeed a good opportunity, and our preparations are almost complete. But I wish to give them a chance. If the new emperor is virtuous and brings peace and prosperity to the people, I’d be glad to enjoy my leisure. All I seek is an era of peace and flourishing.”

He paused, then added calmly, “But if the new emperor proves a tyrant, bringing devastation and death to the land, I will take the throne, unify the realm, and restore clarity and light to the world.”

Scholar Wen brushed his sleeves and bowed deeply to Ji Junhong. “I am enlightened.”

He then asked, “Master, in your view, who will become the new emperor?”

Without hesitation, Ji Junhong replied, “The Crown Prince.”

Scholar Wen nodded—just as he had predicted. In all respects, the Fourth Prince was far outmatched by the Crown Prince. Lately, he had moved about the city, occasionally conversing with the Grand Preceptor, and all agreed the throne would fall to the Crown Prince.

He was about to say more when a servant hurried in, bowing respectfully. “Young Master, the Lord has returned from the palace. He asks you to come to the study.”

Ji Junhong and Scholar Wen exchanged glances, each detecting a hint of oddity in the other’s eyes.

Wasn’t this the critical moment of the dragons’ duel for the throne? With their father absent from the palace to maintain order, did he not fear the princes would slaughter everyone in a fit of madness?

Ji Junhong didn’t dwell on it. He rose and left the courtyard. Upon entering the study, he saw Ji Xiaoxiong writing rapidly.

A couple of Flying Bear Army commanders held token passes. Noticing Ji Junhong, they greeted him and quickly departed.

In the study, only father and son remained.

Ji Junhong sensed a rare gravity from his father; the whole atmosphere was tense.

Taking a breath and steeling himself, Ji Junhong wondered what could be so serious—he had scarcely ever seen such an expression on his father’s face. What could have prompted him to leave the palace at such a time?

Had something happened? Nothing else of such magnitude had occurred recently, enough to bring his father home in haste.

Ji Xiaoxiong looked up, his gaze complicated and tone tinged with grievance as he asked in a deep voice, “Didn’t you say Huo went back to Sichuan for a matchmaking meeting with a noble lady introduced by a friend? Did he go or not? Why did he end up in Mount Tianjue? I heard he was wandering in Nine-Bend Gorge before that?”

Ji Junhong blinked.

Wait—what?

I was bracing myself for anything, and you ask me this?