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Upon hearing Zhou Yi’s approaching footsteps, the old Daoist slowly opened his eyes, which turned a green hue while the pupils were blood red.

Under the flickering light of the fire, they shone brightly, making him seem like a malevolent ghost.

His eyeballs followed Zhou Yi as he moved, and when he came close, the Daoist suddenly lunged forward like a rabid dog, his arms reaching through the steel bars, scrambling with fingers dark as ink and as withered as chicken claws.

Aoo— wuu—

Unintentionally, the old Daoist howled, his dark yellow teeth sharp and sparse, each as keen as a knife.

Biting fiercely into the fine steel, he left behind a trail of tooth marks.

Zhou Yi had anticipated this, his steps stopping accurately at the fourth step from the bottom.

The frenzy lasted for a moment, as if he were exhausted.

Gradually regaining his composure, the Daoist resumed his cross-legged position in the cage, wearing a kind smile, “I am Ji Sheng, and I have seen this fellow Daoist. I know not what year it is tonight?”

Zhou Yi’s eyes were vacant, as if he couldn’t hear the old Daoist speaking.

“Thirty years of seclusion, or was it forty… seventy or eighty? I do not know how many years it has been; they’ve all passed in a blur…”

“Seeing a fellow Daoist today, I feel an unusual kinship.”

“After five hundred years of arduous cultivation in seclusion, today I finally ascend to immortality, enjoying boundless freedom and supreme ease!”

The Daoist’s voice fluctuated, at times muttering to himself, at times shouting loudly. His sense of time was muddled, bouncing from thirty years back to centuries in seclusion.

“Today, as I ascend to immortality, I will take this fellow Daoist to wander the Immortal Realm with me!”

“That world is vast with clouds and mist, where fairy maidens dance, and celestial generals wield spears…”

“Pearls and jade trees, gatherings of phoenixes and dragons…”

“Adorned in crimson gossamer garments studded with stars, riding the clouds, commanding a flying dragon, I roam across the thirty-three heavenly palaces… to the Qiongtai Orchid Pavilion, where golden bells ring in unison, Heavenly Drums sound together, congratulating my ascension!”

“On the day I delivered my teachings, wondrous flowers descended from the sky, golden lotuses sprouted from the earth, jade rabbits offered their worship, and the Golden Crow bowed its head…”

In the end, the old Daoist’s speech became frenzied and scattered, his eyes ablaze like fire, his arms flailing wildly, totally lost in a delusion like a madman.

Zhou Yi listened silently, understanding the old Daoist’s bizarre behavior quite well.

Anyone held captive in a narrow, dark cell for over eighty years, with only the deaf and mute bringing food, might well have a mental breakdown.

The Daoist is provisionally referred to as Ji Sheng, though each time he speaks his name differently, with “Ji Sheng” occurring most frequently.

Ji Sheng rambled on for a long while, his voice shifting from high-spirited to desolate, until finally, he slumped down in the cage with a lost look in his eyes.

He looked down at his hands, and suddenly, tears filled his eyes.

“Wuu, wuu, wuu…”

It wasn’t until this moment that Zhou Yi dared to make a noise, placing the food box on the third step.

Wiping away his tears, Ji Sheng gathered his disheveled white hair, rubbed his twisted and stiff face, regaining some semblance of life, and gave Zhou Yi a grateful nod.

“Thank you.”

Ji Sheng then carefully arranged the few dishes from the food box in front of the iron cage, even pouring himself a cup of wine. His movements were steady and graceful, like a noble fallen on hard times.

After eating, Ji Sheng returned the food box to the third step and resumed his position in the center of the cage to sit cross-legged.

“With a heart as clear as ice, not shaken by the falling sky. Through all changes, my spirit remains still, my energy tranquil…”

He recited the Daoist mantra for purifying the heart, trying to drive away his inner demons and maintain his true self at all times.

Zhou Yi carefully retrieved the food box, understanding that just because Ji Sheng seemed normal, it didn’t mean he could venture down to the lower steps.

This was a lesson the Jinyiwei had learned at the cost of many lives; despite appearing frail, Ji Sheng was immensely strong and once he had someone in his grasp, he would tear them to shreds alive.

Zhou Yi returned to the entrance and knocked on the iron cover.

After a moment, he cracked it open only just enough to see it was Old Zheng, before fully lifting the cover.

Zhou Yi exchanged silent greetings with his colleague, then left with the food box, silently calculating the duration of Ji Sheng’s frenzied states.

“The exhaustion comes more swiftly each time; he is already burnt out, unlikely to live for more than a few years!”

Whether Ji Sheng would leave any inheritance after death was uncertain to Zhou Yi, and not something he would aggressively seek. He never even considered things like negotiating terms with Ji Sheng.

After all, it’s only about ten to twenty years at most!

…

Four years had flashed by.

Last year, “Old Zheng” became frail with age, fell ill with a chill, and never recovered.

The Jinyiwei bought a deaf-mute strongman named Li Shun from the dental workers to be responsible for delivering meals underground.

Zhou Yi transformed in an instant and became Little Shunzi.

Being both deaf and mute had its advantages; Zhou Yi was seldom noticed on a daily basis, there was no worry about any slip-ups.

That day.

Zhou Yi, carrying a food container, walked toward the deep recesses of the imperial prison, passing by a cell where he saw a familiar figure practicing Taijiquan.

Without the need for recognition, it was Yu Su.

His figure paused briefly and then continued on, without using secret sound transmission to inquire.

Entering underground.

Ji Sheng, seeing a living person walk by, went mad and bit for a while, which was much shorter compared to four years ago.

Until gasping for breath from exhaustion, his bloodshot eyes slowly faded away, and surprisingly, he did not fall into his usual delusional fantasies.

Ji Sheng’s delusions were numerous: sometimes he ascended to become an immortal, sometimes he claimed ancestry, and even fantasized about having three thousand Dao companions, basically indulging in all the grand desires of cultivators.

“Dog Emperor, even in death, Ji will have your entire clan executed!”

Zhou Yi’s eyes were vacant, his expression without a ripple.

…

Tongfu District.

The Yuan mansion had expanded more than tenfold compared to a few years ago.

The surrounding residents said that their fortunes clashed with the mansion, greatly affecting their career and business, and they all sought Commander Yuan to relieve their worries.

Yuan Shun bought the properties at a low price and extravagantly built artificial mountains and waters, matching each one to famous mountains and rivers back in his hometown of Xuzhou.

In such a lavish and unrestrained manner, it was unrivaled in the Divine Capital.

The Imperial Censors of the Imperial Court repeatedly submitted petitions criticizing Yuan Shun, listing his ten gravest sins and begging the Orthodox Emperor to execute the Nine Clans of the Yuan family to uphold the national law.

The Orthodox Emperor, citing insufficient evidence, repeatedly shielded Yuan Shun, causing the Jinyiwei’s arrogance to grow even more unchecked.

The study.

Yuan Shun was practicing calligraphy, his brush strokes as forceful as dragons and snakes, demonstrating the air of a master.

An abrupt voice rang out, “Not bad handwriting.”

Yuan Shun looked up to see an elder with white hair dressed in an azure Taoist robe that seemed to have been worn for many years, and he quickly bowed respectfully.

“Greeting Your Majesty.”

“After so many years, you still bother with such empty formalities.”

Zhou Yi casually sat on a chair, scrutinized Yuan Shun for a moment, and said, “Think less on a daily basis, eat more tonic medicine, maybe you will live a few more years.”

Yuan Shun at this time was over fifty years old, an age when he should have been making broad strokes in the official arena.

However, because of practicing the Devouring Heaven Demonic Technique in his early years, he had squandered over twenty years of his lifespan, now appearing aged with grey hair and wrinkled skin, looking much older than his actual age.

Yuan Shun respectfully said, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your concern. This subject has already arranged a successor and will not cause any delay.”

“Remember to split a branch of the Yuan family to the Northern Border, I don’t have time to take care of too much.”

Zhou Yi advised a few words and then inquired, “That old man Yu Su, why has he been put in prison again?”

“At yesterday’s morning court, Minister of Revenue Liu and Minister of Personnel Dong, along with more than ten Imperial Censors, impeached Mister Yu simultaneously. They accused the Yu family members of abusing Mister Yu’s status, wantonly selling titles and engaging in corruption.”

Yuan Shun stated, “At the same time, the prefect of Hongzhou reported that Yu family members had encroached on landholdings, causing numerous deaths. Since they claimed Mister Yu’s name, the local officials did not dare to intervene.”

“Yu family members?”

Zhou Yi’s brows lifted: “I heard that Yu Su had broken ties with his clan years ago and even moved his ancestors’ graves, didn’t he?”

“Your Majesty might not be aware, but at the critical moment of Mister Yu’s struggle with the Zhang party, many Imperial Censors impeached Mister Yu for being unfilial, unable to set an example for scholars, much less assume the position of Grand Secretary.”

Yuan Shun replied, “Mister Yu then returned to his hometown, moved the ancestral graves back to his clan, and had his name inscribed in the family register to complete his filial duty.”

Zhou Yi pondered for a moment and continued to ask.

“Clan troubles wouldn’t warrant the Grand Secretary’s imprisonment, what’s the real reason?”