Immortality and Cultivation: Starting with Improved Spirit Rice

Chapter 82 Returning Home, the Truth Behind the Demise of the Dark Void Sect

Although it was the imperial city of the Great Yin Dynasty, and appeared quite magnificent from a distance, Zhao Cheng'an's first impression upon closer inspection was one of poverty.

The grayish-blue wall tiles were covered with cracks of varying depths.

At the height of the war, barbarian armies once marched directly to the capital, leaving behind a variety of gruesome marks—dents from arrows, charred remains from fire, and several large cracks that have not yet been fully repaired.

Outside the city walls, there was a large, bare area.

Due to overdevelopment, almost all the trees within a radius of several miles have been cut down.

The sky was hazy, and the sunlight, filtering through the thin layer of dust, appeared pale and fell to the ground without warmth.

There were more refugees at the city gate than at the foot of Taixue Mountain.

They huddled in the shadows of the city wall, making makeshift shelters out of rags and straw mats, their faces filled with numbness and hunger.

A little girl with dry, yellow hair squatted by the roadside, holding a rough bowl with a chipped rim in her hands. She timidly stretched it out to passersby, but dared not utter a single word.

Chen Heng stopped and looked at her.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few gold leaves, just as he was about to hand them to the girl.

Zhao Chengan reached out and stopped her.

Chen Heng raised her head, looking at Zhao Cheng'an with a hint of doubt in her eyes.

Zhao Cheng'an didn't explain much, but simply took out a few copper coins from his sleeve and bent down to put them in the broken bowl.

The copper coin landed on the cracked bottom of the earthenware bowl, making a crisp clinking sound.

The little girl looked up at him with her somewhat cloudy eyes, then lowered her head and carefully tucked the few copper coins into her clothes, gathering them tightly.

"The things you gave her are too valuable. She can neither spend them nor keep them. In fact, it has only harmed her," Zhao Chengan explained.

Chen Heng remained silent for a moment before putting the gold leaves back into his pocket.

"----I see."

She didn't say anything more, but simply followed behind Zhao Cheng'an and continued walking into the city gate.

Passing through the city gate, the scene inside the city was slightly more lively than outside.

Vendors lined both sides of the road, selling coarse cloth, earthenware pots, and dried vegetables, their shouts rising and falling. Pedestrians strolled through the streets, and occasionally soldiers on horseback would gallop past.

But the faces of those pedestrians still bore a lingering pallor.

The main gate of the palace.

The red-lacquered, copper-studded gate was wide open.

The square in front of the gate was packed with people. Civil and military officials were neatly arranged according to rank, their attire solemn and silent.

Directly in front of the main gate stood a middle-aged man dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe. His temples were gray, his face was aged, and his eyes were slightly sunken, but his posture remained ramrod straight, as if he were using his body to support this crumbling dynasty.

Beside the middle-aged man stood a woman dressed in a phoenix robe, with a dignified yet haggard face.

The current Emperor Zhao Jinglong of the Great Yin Dynasty, and Empress Shangguan.

Zhao Cheng'an had been away from home for ten years, so there was no possibility of him suddenly returning to surprise his parents.

Not long after entering the territory of Dayin, he sent someone back to the capital at full speed to deliver the message. If he had not specifically instructed that there should not be too much of a fuss, the welcoming procession would probably have stretched for dozens of miles outside the city gate.

At this moment, Zhao Jinglong stood in front of the officials, his gaze falling on the young man who was walking along the imperial road in the center of the square.

He stood tall and walked with ease, wearing a clean blue long gown.

Ten years have left almost no trace on him; he still looks as young as when he left.

However, the extraordinary aura he exuded made Zhao Jinglong, his father, feel a sense of unfamiliarity and awe amidst their familiarity.

Zhao Cheng'an stepped forward and stopped about three steps away from his parents.

He lowered his head slightly and bowed deeply forward.

"Father, Mother, your child has returned."

Zhao Jinglong opened his mouth, his eyes slightly reddening.

Shangguan stepped forward, grasped Zhao Cheng'an's arm, and looked him up and down several times. Her voice choked with emotion as she said, "My son Cheng'an, you are still the same as you were ten years ago, you haven't changed at all."

Standing next to Zhao Jinglong was an elderly man dressed in a purple-red court robe.

His gray hair was meticulously combed, his figure was slender but his back was straight, and his expression was serious. He was Chen Chongli, the Grand Secretary of the current dynasty and father of Chen Heng.

Chen Heng also stepped forward and stood in front of his father.

Looking at the face before her, which was much older than she remembered, she was at a loss for words.

To be fair, her father treated her very well.

From a young age, she displayed extraordinary talent and intelligence, and many officials advised him to arrange a marriage between his daughter and someone of equal social standing to secure his career. Chen Chongli did not heed their advice, but instead insisted on sending her to school and supporting her application to the Imperial Academy.

This led to her later opportunity to come into contact with the world of cultivation—without these experiences, she might never have known that there was such a vast world at the end of the world.

Ten years is just too long.

Some memories from the past have become quite hazy, and standing before my father now, I still feel a slight sense of unfamiliarity.

Chen Chongli looked at his daughter, who was half a head taller than him and had a very upright posture.

He was silent for a moment, then the wrinkles on his face smoothed out. "It's good that you're back. Your father is old, and I have no regrets about being able to see you one last time. You did a great job; you are my pride."

A low murmur arose among the civil and military officials standing in the back row.

Zhao Cheng'an had been away from home for ten years and had almost no presence in the court. When he was sent to the Imperial Academy, many people privately thought it was just a means for an unfavored prince to be banished.

Why would the emperor personally lead all the civil and military officials to greet a prince who had been forgotten when he returned?

Only a few people who truly knew the inside story knew that the reason why the First Prince was able to barely survive the years of war and natural disasters was that it was this seemingly unfavored and marginalized prince who truly contributed.

However, those people also tacitly remained silent.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Zhao Jinglong dismissed his attendants.

Zhao Cheng'an followed his parents through the palace gate and walked along the corridor toward the inner palace.

The banquet was held in a side hall of the inner palace. It was a small affair, with only the closest family members sitting around one table. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than the solemn and serious welcoming ceremony in the square earlier.

Shangguan sat next to Zhao Cheng'an, picking up food and pouring wine, her gaze almost never leaving him.

"Try these, I specially cooked them for you."

Zhao Jinglong sat in the main seat and said with a smile, "Your mother was so happy when she heard that you were coming back that she couldn't sleep for several days."

There were two other people sitting inside the hall.

One of them was a middle-aged man in his thirties, slightly overweight, wearing an apricot-yellow dragon robe.

This man was Zhao Cheng'an's elder brother, the current Crown Prince Zhao Chengyuan.

He was holding a wine glass, looking at his younger brother whom he hadn't seen for ten years with an indescribable, complex gaze.

The other was a girl of about eleven or twelve, wearing a light purple short jacket, with her hair in two buns, and with bright red lips and white teeth. She sat on a chair, her legs dangling in the air, swaying gently, and her large, clear eyes couldn't help but steal glances at Zhao Cheng'an.

The year Zhao Cheng'an left for the Imperial Academy, this younger sister was still an infant; now she has grown up so much.

"You are—Ah Ying?"

Zhao Cheng'an looked at her with a gentle smile on his face.

Zhao Ying nodded vigorously. "You are the third son—the Empress Dowager often talks about you, saying that you are very capable. Just how capable are you?"

"Ah Ying!" Shangguan's gentle face was filled with reproach.

Zhao Cheng'an couldn't help but laugh. With a flick of his wrist, a fist-sized, translucent white spirit fruit appeared out of thin air in his hand. Zhao Cheng'an said, "That's about all my abilities are!"

The surface of the fruit has a faint sheen and emits a sweet fragrance.

Zhao Ying looked at the fruit, then at Zhao Cheng'an's hand.

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened.

That hand was clearly free just now. "—How did you manage to produce such a huge fruit?!"

Zhao Ying asked blankly.

Zhao Cheng'an couldn't help but chuckle. He didn't answer her question directly, but instead patted her head and placed the spirit fruit in her hand.

"Take it and eat it."

Zhao Ying held the spirit fruit, which was bigger than her fist, in both hands, turning it over and over to look at it several times, and then carefully took a bite.

The sweet juice burst in her mouth, and her eyes lit up instantly.

Then she no longer cared about being reserved, and sitting on the chair with the fruit in her arms, she ate it until her face was covered in juice, and even her clothes were stained with juice.

Looking at her completely unguarded way of eating, Zhao Cheng'an felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

"Ahem!"

Just then, a soft cough came from beside me.

Zhao Cheng'an turned his head and saw that his elder brother, Zhao Chengyuan, had already approached him with a wine cup.

His expression was subtle, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Finally, he lowered his voice and asked, "Cheng'an, what are your plans for this trip back? Tell me so I can prepare accordingly and show you my brotherly affection."

He emphasized the word "elder brother" when he spoke.

Zhao Chengan was taken aback at first, but then he understood.

This is because they are worried that they have returned to seize the throne.

Zhao Cheng'an was not angry at all; on the contrary, he found it rather amusing. He shook his head and said truthfully, "Your Majesty, you are overthinking it. I am only back to visit relatives for a short stay. After some time, I will continue my studies abroad."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chengyuan's slightly tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

He let out a long sigh of relief, a relieved smile spreading across his face, and even his gaze toward Zhao Chengan became much more affectionate.

"You've been studying away from home for many years, so we brothers really need to get together."

He reached out and patted Zhao Cheng'an on the shoulder, his tone becoming warmer: "You don't know, I have a few good chefs here who came from the south. They are exceptional at cooking fish. Tomorrow I'll have them prepare a whole fish feast, and we'll have a good drink together."

The dinner continued into the night in a fairly pleasant atmosphere.

After the banquet, Zhao Jinglong dismissed his attendants, leaving only Zhao Cheng'an behind.

The father and son walked along the palace corridor, passing through several gates, and arrived at a simple, secluded room deep within the palace.

Several copper lamps were embedded in the wall, their wicks flickering with flame, casting shadowy light throughout the room.

Zhao Jinglong sat on a large rosewood chair, his shoulders slightly slumped, the candlelight illuminating the deep lines on his face.

His gaze towards Zhao Chengan was filled with relief, emotion, and undisguised pride.

"What did you and your brother talk about? I saw him smiling the whole time afterward."

Zhao Cheng'an sat down on the chair next to him: "He asked me if I had any plans for coming back. I said I was just visiting relatives, and he was relieved. He was probably afraid that I would compete with him for the position of crown prince."

Zhao Jinglong shook his head, unable to suppress a laugh. His voice held a hint of helplessness, "This good-for-nothing—"

His laughter gradually subsided, and he asked again, "What is the outside world like?"

Zhao Cheng'an adjusted the candlelight, knowing what his father truly wanted to know. He began by recounting the story of the Imperial Academy, the cultivation world outside, and his experiences in the Floating Scale Cave. Zhao Jinglong listened silently, the flickering light from the bronze lamp reflecting in his somewhat cloudy eyes.

After a long while, he finally let out a deep sigh.

"I never imagined the outside world was so vast. This place is far too small. Even a king is but a mayfly." Zhao Jinglong's expression was complex, but he quickly changed the subject, getting down to business. "You mentioned that demonic cultivator in your letter."

"You said that he manipulated the barbarians to move south, partly to stabilize his own position through killing and war. On the other hand, he may also be searching for something hidden within the Dayin royal family."

Zhao Chengan nodded without saying anything.

"After thinking about it over the years, I feel that this is the only possible one."

He bent down and took out a wooden box, about a foot square, from a hidden compartment under the table. The box was coated with a layer of dark brown lacquer, and although the edges were somewhat worn, it was clearly well-maintained. A yellowed seal was affixed to the lock.

Zhao Jinglong placed the wooden box on the desk and pushed it in front of Zhao Chengan.

Zhao Cheng'an's gaze fell on the wooden box, and his breath hitched slightly.

he knows.

The truth behind the destruction of the Netherworld Sect, the reason why the Seven Kingdoms became low-spirit areas, and what the demonic cultivator was willing to provoke a war to find—all the answers may very well lie quietly behind this seal.

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