Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

The spiritual energy shockwave from Penglai Island traveled thousands of miles, and at the same time, as it cracked open a dark red rift in the sky above the East China Sea, the seal script on the bronze door of a certain imperial mausoleum, which had been silent for hundreds of years, suddenly lit up.

The three ancient seal characters collapsed one after another.

The moment the seal script peeled off, an aura that had once suppressed the entire world a hundred years ago leaked out from the crack in the door.

That aura was deep and profound, condensed and unyielding, like a sword that had been sheathed for a hundred years finally being pushed open three inches.

Within a radius of a hundred miles, all cultivators simultaneously felt their knees go weak—those below the Grandmaster level all knelt on the ground.

The soldiers guarding the imperial mausoleum were the first to fall. Of the three hundred guards, more than two hundred and ninety knelt on the stone steps instantly, their faces ashen, their bodies trembling as if a mountain were pressing down on their shoulders.

The remaining dozen or so people barely managed to keep their knees up, the veins on their foreheads bulging like earthworms, and blood seeping from their teeth.

In Pingyang County, a hundred miles away, thousands of independent martial artists stopped at the same time. Many of them collapsed to the ground with a thud, as if an invisible hand had pressed down on their skulls. The air suddenly became several times heavier, and their chests felt tight with every breath.

At the same time, an ancient connection was quietly awakened between the dark red crack above Penglai Island and the aura leaking from the imperial tomb.

The two seals echoed each other, like two bronze bells being struck simultaneously, their resonant ripples weaving into invisible veins in the void.

The blood-red sky in the southeast suddenly contracted inward for a moment, then expanded again.

The crack is twice as wide as before.

The Imperial City, the Imperial Study.

The moment Qin Muzhi put down his vermilion brush, the floor of the entire imperial study trembled slightly.

The ink in the Duan inkstone on the table in front of him stirred without wind, with ripples spreading outwards in circles.

He closed his eyes for three breaths.

When he opened his eyes again, a very subtle change finally appeared on the face of this emperor who was over a hundred years old—the muscles in his jaw tightened slightly, like a string that had been stretched for too long finally hearing the prelude to breaking.

"The news is about Zhao Chengying."

Within ten breaths, Zhao Chengying, the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, knelt before the imperial desk.

His cultivation at the ninth level of the Grandmaster realm allowed him to barely withstand the oppressive force just now, but the fresh sweat on his temples could not escape Qin Muzhi's eyes.

"How many of the guards outside the imperial tomb knelt?"

"Ninety percent." Zhao Chengying's voice was extremely low. "Your Majesty, Demon God Lü..."

"knew."

Qin Muzhi interrupted him, "Go to the outer perimeter of the imperial mausoleum yourself, but don't go near the bronze gate. Just observe how many people are kneeling, how many are standing, and how many have already retreated within three miles of the mausoleum."

Zhao Chengying kowtowed: "Your subject obeys the decree."

He stood up and took three steps back, but Qin Muzhi called him back.

"All agents of the Embroidered Uniform Guard are to be confined to a region within thirty li of the capital, effective immediately. Intelligence from the south and the East China Sea will be temporarily suspended."

Zhao Chengying's pupils contracted slightly, but he still bowed and said "Yes," then bowed and left the imperial study.

After the door closed, Qin Muzhi got up and walked to the huge geomantic map of the Tianxuan Continent on the wall.

His finger slowly slid from the location of the imperial tomb to the southern border, then turned towards the southeastern sea, and finally stopped on the imaginary sea area of ​​Penglai Island.

"Once the Demon God Lü awakens, all the forces in the world will move. There are only two directions they can move towards—the Imperial Mausoleum, or Penglai." He muttered to himself, "The wise will go to the Imperial Mausoleum, the fools will go to Penglai."

But there's a third type of person in this world... who uses the imperial tombs as bait, while going to Penglai themselves.

His gaze fell on the area of ​​the East China Sea, and he remained silent for a long time.

Southern Xinjiang, Red Capital.

On the very day the White Lotus Sect captured the Eighth County, the Red-Robed Dharma King hung a plaque inscribed with "King of the South" in the main hall of the county governor's mansion.

Thirty-six red candles were placed in the hall, their light illuminating the entire space and casting long, distorted shadows of the surrendered officials kneeling in greeting.

Report—

A scout dressed in black rushed in from outside, his knees hitting the stone bricks with a thud as he knelt down, but he paid no attention, panting heavily:

"Your Majesty, the strange phenomenon in the East Sea just resonated with the Imperial Mausoleum. Three of the inscriptions on the bronze gate of the Imperial Mausoleum collapsed, and the aura of the Demon God Lü leaked out. All those below the Grandmaster level within a hundred miles knelt down!"

The room was completely silent.

Some of the surrendered officials kneeling on the ground trembled, like withered leaves in the autumn wind.

They originally thought that the White Lotus Sect was taking advantage of the chaos to start a rebellion, and that the imperial court would come to quell the rebellion sooner or later. But if even the Demon God Lü was about to awaken, who in this world would care about the Southern Frontier?

The red-robed Dharma King sat behind his desk, toying with a crimson jade seal in his hand. The seal was newly carved, and the cinnabar on the four characters "Southern King Red Heaven" on the seal surface was still not completely dry, rubbing against his fingertips.

He was silent for a long time.

Then he chuckled. The laugh wasn't loud, but it sent a chill down everyone's spine.

"The Demon God Lu has awakened... Good."

He pressed the jade seal heavily onto the table, rose, walked to the window, and looked towards the northern imperial city.

"Only now that he's awake can I, the 'King of the South,' sit securely. If the imperial court sends troops to suppress him, the capital will be left vulnerable once the Demon God Lü makes his move."

But if the imperial court doesn't come to suppress me—then I, the King of the South, will truly become the King of the South.

He turned to his subordinates and said, "Pass down the order: capture the tenth prefecture within ten days. Anyone who stands in our way will be killed without mercy. Anyone who kneels before us…"

He paused.

"Kill them too."

No one in the hall dared to raise their head.

Wanfo Temple.

Inside the main hall, 108 sandalwood prayer beads were scattered all over the floor.

Master Liaochen did not pick them up, but slowly stood up from the futon.

His movements were extremely slow, and his kneecaps made a dry, cracking sound, as if his emaciated body hadn't stood upright for far too long.

"Abbot."

Outside the temple gate, a gray-robed monk stood bowing.

"explain."

"The bronze gate of the imperial mausoleum has shattered three seal script inscriptions, and the aura of the Demon God Lü has leaked out. People from various forces at the foot of the mountain have already sent seventeen visiting cards, all asking how Wanfo Temple should respond."

Liao Chen hummed in agreement, walked to the palace gate, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

Outside the gate are the layers of halls and monks' quarters of Wanfo Temple, and the mountain mist is being warmed by a sliver of dark red light shining from the horizon.

Reply: The closure order for Wanfo Temple has been lifted, but the monks are not allowed to leave the mountain for three days. Tell them that this humble monk is waiting for someone.

The grey-robed monk paused for a moment: "Waiting for whom?"

"The moment when Demon God Lü truly opens his eyes."

Liao Chen turned to look at the crack in the southeastern sky, a complex expression rising on his gaunt face—a mixture of hatred, fear, and a barely perceptible hint of expectation.

"A hundred years ago, when he broke into my temple, I was still the head disciple. Back then, he didn't even glance at me; he smashed the stone lion in front of the main hall with a single palm strike and left."

He lowered his eyes.

"For the past hundred years, I've thought every day about whether he'll glance at me when he finally breaks through the temple gates again."

The gray-robed monk sensed the chill in those words, silently took three steps back, and turned to leave.

Liao Chen stood alone in front of the palace gate and glanced again at the crack in the southeast.

"Penglai..." he murmured softly.

"Is something that was pressed there ten thousand years ago about to come out?"

He suddenly smiled, a very faint and subtle smile.

"Very well. The more chaotic the world becomes, the less energy Demon God Lü will have to keep an eye on a small temple like Wanfo."