Chapter 32: The Heir Was Lost
Not long after, the sound of clashing weapons came from outside the Yuxian Pavilion.
One after another, soldiers in light armor rushed in with swords in hand.
Every suit of armor bore the scarlet emblem of a Xuan bird.
Their expressions were grim, filled with murderous intent—they were the Chilin Guards, responsible for the security of the capital.
A burly man with a square face, thick black eyebrows, and a long blade at his waist was frowning as he examined the scene inside the room.
The unconscious courtesans were all seized, but none had awakened.
Only the red-robed girl lying on the bed seemed to have considerable cultivation; her eyes fluttered open hazily as she sat up in confusion, her clear pupils unfocused, completely unaware of what had happened before her.
“Lord Zhou, you are wise and discerning—this matter has nothing to do with us at all…”
“Everything was perfectly fine after midnight last night. The music was flowing, the laughter was lively—how the Heir went missing, we truly have no idea.”
The steward of Yuxian Pavilion spoke with a wretched face to the burly man with the square face.
After all, this was a place of pleasure.
He often dealt with the Chilin Guards and was rather familiar with Zhou Baihu before him.
The burly man was named Zhou Yang.
Two nights ago, when Tianji Studio caught fire, he was the first to arrive on scene.
Within the Chilin Guards of the capital, he held considerable prestige.
Over the years, he had captured many spies and infiltrators from demonic sects and the Nether Cult, earning numerous commendations.
“There’s something strange in this wine.”
Zhou Yang picked up a bottle that had not been touched, brought it to his nose, and sniffed.
His brows furrowed deeply.
“My Lord, this was found on the bamboo mat.” A constable handed over a slip of paper with flamboyant handwriting that carried an air of arrogance.
“Hidden Moon Mountain, Forest of No Return — Shen Jingxiao, come meet me.”
Zhou Yang’s heart gave a jolt as soon as he saw the words.
As a Chilin Guard Captain, he was naturally familiar with both locations—each a perilous place in Yunzhou.
And to directly call out the Demon Suppression King, Shen Jingxiao, by name—
The one who kidnapped the Heir was truly audacious beyond measure.
“This is serious trouble…” Zhou Yang’s frown deepened.
He held no fondness for a wastrel like Shen Yanzhou—he only knew him as a troublemaker, bullying men and women alike—but should anything happen to him, for the entire Imperial Capital…
“My Lord, the people from the Bureau of Immortal Inspection have arrived.”
A voice announced from outside.
Soon after, a man and a woman stepped inside, descending the spiral stairs.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties, wearing an embroidered gown and gauze skirt.
Her hair was arranged in a cloudlike bun with a jade hairpin, her beauty dazzling, skin pale as snow, her figure graceful and curvaceous.
A small peach-blossom mark between her brows lent her an alluring charm.
The middle-aged man beside her wore a blue robe and carried a black blade slanted at his waist.
His beard was unkempt, and a long scar marred his face—he looked nothing like an official, more like a rough martial wanderer.
Yet both wore at their waists scarlet-gold tokens engraved with the crossed motifs of a blade and sword, from which emanated a faint, extraordinary immortal pressure.
The Bureau of Immortal Inspection of Great Qian had been established since the founding of the dynasty by the First Emperor Zulong.
Its purpose was to oversee all immortal sects across the realm, maintaining order and law.
Its authority was immense—at times even independent of imperial power.
Even the son of a sect leader, should he cause trouble within Great Qian and violate the laws, would be apprehended by the Bureau.
“Lord Zhou.”
The flower-robed woman smiled enchantingly, clearly familiar with Zhou Yang.
“Immortal Officer Gu, Lord Chu…”
Zhou Yang clasped his fists respectfully.
The woman in the flowered dress was named Gu Ruoxi—despite her youth and captivating demeanor, she was a cultivator of the Dao, already at the Seventh Rank, Foundation Establishment Realm, and not far from the Sixth Rank, Core Formation Realm.The scarred man was named Chu Dao, also a member of the Bureau, though not a formal officer—an “Immortal Attendant,” an external martial aide.
Because Dao cultivators often had frail bodies, they frequently required martial escorts.
“Who are you people? Where is my Heir?”
As Gu Ruoxi and Chu Dao entered the inner room to investigate, Chunchao’s consciousness gradually returned.
Her head ached dully, still heavy and clouded, but her strong will as one who had trained in swordsmanship since childhood helped her stay barely awake.
“Your Heir was most likely kidnapped.”
Zhou Yang looked at the dazed, pretty young girl and sighed inwardly.
Why had the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion assigned such a young girl to protect Shen Yanzhou?
The Heir had gone missing, and yet she was still in a stupor, clueless.
“What?”
At those words, Chunchao suddenly came to full awareness.
Her clear, lake-like eyes widened instantly.
She leapt up, grabbed her Chunchao Sword, and seemed ready to rush out in pursuit.
“Where exactly are you going to chase him? You don’t even know when your Heir disappeared.” Gu Ruoxi looked at the confused young girl, chuckling softly as she pulled her back down.
“How could the Heir just go missing…” Chunchao murmured blankly, still struggling to comprehend.
Hadn’t they just been drinking together last night? She had only felt pity for Shen Yanzhou, and reluctantly drank some fruit wine when he insisted… then her head had begun to spin…
“This method, and this lingering aura…”
“It’s difficult not to suspect the handiwork of the Nether Cult.”
Chu Dao took the slip of paper from Zhou Yang’s hand, sniffed it lightly, and his brows tightened.
“Take all this wine back to the Bureau of Immortal Inspection. Have someone analyze its contents.” He waved a hand.
“Whether it’s the Nether Cult or not, we’ll know as soon as we use the Manifestation Spell.”
Gu Ruoxi lightly waved her hand.
Her lips moved, muttering incantations, and then she flicked her slender fingers.
A pale-blue talisman shot forth, exploding in midair with a soft boom, scattering into countless points of light that rained down, enveloping the entire room.
The next instant, under everyone’s astonished gaze, the room was plunged into darkness, as though all light had been devoured.
Then faint, eerie flames—like the fires of the underworld—flickered to life in the corners.
“The Breath of the Netherworld—it really is the work of the Nether Cult.”
“From the traces I’ve gathered, the Tianji Studio that burned two nights ago was likely one of their strongholds.”
“Could the kidnapping of the Heir be connected to that incident?”
Zhou Yang, an experienced man, instantly grew grim-faced.
Chunchao listened in confusion, her expression growing more bewildered—had the Nether Cult really appeared last night?
Before long, people from the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion arrived as well.
Shen Zhigao, who managed the household affairs, came in person, followed by many servants and attendants.
“General Shen.”
Zhou Yang greeted Shen Zhigao respectfully.
The old retainers of the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion had once fought alongside the Demon Suppression King, campaigning across the lands.
In the days of His Majesty’s youth, they had accompanied him in battle.
Some had been ennobled as Assistant Generals of the Nation, others as Generals Upholding the Nation—their status high, their authority great.
“How could Zhou’er be kidnapped out of nowhere? This is the Imperial Capital—the very heart of Great Qian! Who dares be so bold?”
Shen Zhigao’s face was grim, his voice laced with anger.