When Chen Weichen awoke, it was already late into the night. He found that the pain in his meridians had subsided a bit, and although the energies of the immortal, Buddhist, and demonic sects had not yet fully merged, they had settled down considerably.

He sat up from the bed and saw the room was empty and desolate. Just as he felt a sense of loneliness, he saw Ye Jiuya push open the door and enter. Through the screen, his snow-white robes fluttered ethereally, as if he were a banished immortal.

Chen Weichen gazed at him unblinkingly as he leaned against the headboard.

White smoke flowed from the incense burner, floating and lingering. Chen Weichen beckoned Ye Jiuya to come over.

Having slept for half a day, his whole body felt weak. He opened his mouth and with great effort, finally made a sound, still a bit hoarse: "I want water."

Ye Jiuya slightly leaned over, took a lotus leaf cup from the small table beside him, poured some tea, and brought it to Chen Weichen.

Chen Weichen was very pleased to be served by a beauty.

He put down the cup and Ye Jiuya took his wrist to examine his meridians.

After looking, Ye Jiuya said, "You've broken through."

Chen Weichen blinked at him.

At the first level, one comprehends the laws of heaven and earth; at the second level, one finds the great Dao; at the third level, one stands equal to the sun and moon. He had just barely passed the second level.

"These past few days, I was overthinking and actually forgot what Dao I was seeking," Chen Weichen said, leaning against the headboard. "Fortunately, I remembered."

Ye Jiuya didn't ask further and sat on the edge of the bed, placing Chen Weichen's hand back under the brocade quilt. "Do you want to meditate?"

—After a breakthrough, one often needs to sit in stillness and meditate to consolidate their cultivation.

Chen Weichen shook his head, reached out to encircle Ye Jiuya's waist, rested his forehead on Ye Jiuya's shoulder, and stared blankly.

After a long while, he mumbled, "Ye Jiuya, do you know what Dao I cultivate?"

Ye Jiuya: "I don't know."

"Buddhist scriptures speak of impermanence, of the difficulty in attaining permanence. But I thought about it, and I actually don't want permanence or longevity either," he said slowly. "If I cultivate immortality, you are my Dao; if I cultivate Buddhism, you are my perfection; if I cultivate the demonic path, you are my desire."

Ye Jiuya turned around and their gazes met.

He saw Chen Weichen also looking at him—with his usual faint, gentle expression.

He finally asked the question he had always wanted to ask: "Why?"

He didn't know what could make a person have such feelings for another.

"No reason," Chen Weichen answered softly. "This is my fate."

The moment those words fell, Ye Jiuya suddenly saw through this man's eyes, always veiled by a smile, to the depths, and glimpsed the despair hidden beneath layers of gentle haze.

He recalled the faint singing and strange phenomena that had echoed in the room when Chen Weichen had passed out. The lyrics were: "The sky above is vast, the earth below is boundless; the dead return to the netherworld, the living to the mortal realm; the living have homes, the dead have their own realm."

He felt a bit perplexed, thinking that this person's background was probably not as simple as originally assumed.

The peach blossoms in the capital were blooming more and more vigorously. Talented scholars gathered, and the time for the Peach Blossom Banquet had arrived.

In recent days, the capital had been busy, mostly because of this event.

"Brother Chen," the State Preceptor played with the flute in his hands and asked, "Can you compose poetry?"

Young Master Chen fanned himself elegantly: "I cannot."

The venue was extremely large. It was said that all the prominent figures in the capital had come to admire the emperor's countenance. Borrowing Xing Qiu's prestige, their group sat above, watching the bustle of people coming and going below.

The scholars entered in a line, young and old, looking shy and uncomfortable.

After a while, they heard a eunuch announce the emperor's arrival.

Xing Qiu spoke very bluntly: "The idiot is here."

At their level of cultivation, they really didn't need to be too concerned with the ranks of the mortal world. Chen Weichen turned to look and saw that the emperor was about thirty years old, quite pale and plump, puffing out his chest and holding his head high, surrounded by an entourage. Whether he was an idiot or not was yet to be determined, but he certainly had an imposing air.

Xing Qiu's seat was to the lower right of the emperor's throne. The weather had been hot recently, so he was dressed very lightly in thin, deep purple satin. His fair wrist slid out from his wide sleeves as he drank wine indifferently. If not for the lofty and noble aura of the Demon Emperor, one might almost think the emperor had found a male consort who would bring ruin to the country.

The emperor regarded Chen Weichen and the others as the State Preceptor's "immortal friends". The crowd had not seen the State Preceptor make a move and didn't know if they were real or fake. But if there were indeed people from the immortal path present, they would surely be greatly shocked: Lord Ye, and the young Abbot of Qingjing Temple, Marquis Langran, represented a significant portion of the immortal world's power—and beside them was actually a demonic cultivator whose cultivation was not the least bit inferior to Lord Ye's, as well as a young master whose cultivation path was indiscernible.

Young Master Chen had been living comfortably recently. That day when he had defied the Heavenly Dao, he had comprehended his own Dao and had more or less sorted out his internal energies. With a beauty by his side, attending to his every need, and Xiao Dao carefully nurturing him, he had almost forgotten the taste of sorrow.

Next was the opening ceremony. On one side, Prince One and Prince Two wished the emperor longevity; on the other side, Minister A and Minister B congratulated the dynasty's prosperity. It flowed by like a stream. When it came to a minister surnamed Xie, Chen Weichen narrowed his eyes—this was the master of the Xie Residence whom the Daoist priest had seen had an unusual fate.

Afterwards, the emperor wrote the theme with his own brush, and the scholars below composed poems. Each time one was completed, a eunuch would chant it loudly. The civil officials would first discuss and evaluate, and finally the emperor would comment. Those who pleased the emperor were awarded a branch of peach blossoms and a cup of wine. Some were even conferred official positions, which the commoner scholars who had lost their path due to the suspension of the imperial examinations saw as their only opportunity.

The Demon Emperor watched from above with a mocking smile, treating it as mere entertainment.

Ye Jiuya slightly furrowed his brows: "Why is it so absurd?"

Lu Hongyan was even more impatient: "With the imperial court like this, no wonder they fled south in a panic back then."

"My father once privately told my brother about the chaos in the imperial court," Chen Weichen slowly explained to them. "When they first moved south, in order to appease the people, they greatly expanded the imperial examinations and divided power. Although the south had fertile land, the people's wisdom was not comparable to the Central Plains. Therefore, they even abolished the re-examination by the Ministry of Rites. Those who passed the imperial examination could be directly appointed as officials. In one examination, seven to eight hundred people could be selected. After several decades, both inside and outside the court became bloated. The Salt and Iron Monopoly, the Ministry of Revenue, and the Ministry of Personnel had gone through numerous mergers and divisions, with countless titles and positions. Mediocre people were inevitable—it was truly bloated and cumbersome, with various forces deeply entangled. The emperor was mediocre and had never started to streamline it. Seeing that the country was stable, he resorted to the stopgap measure of suspending the imperial examinations—but he still wanted to demonstrate that he loved talent like life itself and loved the people like his own children, so there were all sorts of events like the Peach Blossom Banquet and the Osmanthus Banquet to select a few dozen scholars to fill some marginal posts."

Xie Lang interjected, "From what I've seen along the way, only the capital and a few large cities seem prosperous. Does the Emperor not care about other places?"

Xing Qiu lazily said, "It's only because of the layers of taxes from the outside that the capital is prosperous. My lords also often collect taxes and select beauties."

Chen Weichen glanced at him, "Your Majesty has been quite lazy lately."

Xing Qiu listlessly took a sip of wine, "That damned monk is hateful."

They were not the type to appreciate poetry. While poems were being recited and the Emperor was giving out rewards, it wasn't until they heard a familiar name that Chen Weichen raised his head and saw Zhuang Baihan, with whom they had quite a bit of fate.

Zhuang Baihan was a man of great talent, and his poems were quite favored by the Emperor, earning him a respectable official position.

After the appraisals were finished one by one, the Peach Blossom Banquet smoothly reached its end. Just as the Emperor was about to give his concluding remarks, a man walked out from the civil officials' seats.

It was none other than the master of the Xie residence.

He was about fifty years old, with a square face and solemn expression, his entire being exuding an air of righteousness. He slowly walked to the center of the venue.

Before the crowd could react, they all fell silent, sensing that this behavior was quite out of line.

In the stillness, the man knelt before the Emperor, his voice steady and powerful.

"Your Majesty, your subject has something to say."