Wu Yanhan was no stranger to the Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts.

After all, the Wu Kingdom held such assemblies regularly.

Since the ruler of the Wu Kingdom was the Wu Emperor, all sects—despite their high degree of autonomy—were still, at least in name, under the jurisdiction of the Wu Kingdom.

Thus, at fixed intervals, the leaders of these sects were required to travel to Wu Capital to pay their respects and provide a brief report on their sect’s affairs and developments over the years. This event was known as the Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts.

In practice, it was mostly a formality. The sects would present some gifts, go through the motions, and then return to their respective territories to continue their rule.

When it came to the affairs of the Wu Kingdom, they rarely involved themselves—unless there was profit to be gained.

For instance, sect disciples often came down from the mountains to gain experience, and the Wu Kingdom provided various training opportunities for them.

Additionally, the Wu Kingdom regularly issued bounties, typically for demon-slaying or other similar tasks, offering rewards in return.

For minor matters, these sects were willing to lend a hand.

But when it came to major issues—especially those that threatened their own interests—they would turn a blind eye without hesitation.

These sects had existed long before the Wu Kingdom, surviving the rise and fall of multiple dynasties and empires. They were seasoned players, indifferent to who sat on the throne or what kind of government ruled the land.

Their sole concern was the growth and prosperity of their own sect.

Dynasties may rise and fall, but sects remain eternal.

This was the way of the world.

In fact, many sects viewed mortal kingdoms as mere service providers for their needs.

If not for the existence of martial warriors—who could rival cultivators in strength—and the fact that human dynasties maintained a balance of power among sects, these sects would have long since run amok.

The most effective tool for keeping sects in check was resources, particularly new disciples.

At the end of the day, cultivators were born from ordinary mortals, and like all beings, they eventually perished.

Moreover, since cultivation was a path of struggle—against others, against nature—it was an inherently high-risk pursuit.

A sect had to replenish its numbers periodically.

Relying solely on elders and stewards to search for talented individuals in the outside world was both exhausting and inefficient. The vast number of people made it difficult to identify potential cultivators.

But a nation like the Wu Kingdom operated differently.

Every newborn in the Wu Kingdom was registered in its household records.

Sects could use this information to pinpoint newborns with spiritual veins or exceptional talent. Some sects would observe these children over time, while others would take them immediately to be raised and trained within their sects.

What puzzled Wu Yanhan was that the Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts was supposed to take place every five years.

By that schedule, wasn’t there still a year left until the next one?

Why was it being held early?

She couldn’t figure it out.

Perhaps she was overthinking it. After all, moving the assembly up by a year didn’t seem like such a big deal.

“So for this Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts, we’ll need to increase patrols in Wu Capital and impose certain restrictions on sect disciples?” Wu Yanhan asked Yu Ping’an.

“Precisely,” Yu Ping’an nodded with a smile.

“Those sect disciples… most of them think of themselves as transcendent beings, different from the common people of the mortal world. They carry an air of arrogance, believing themselves to be extraordinary,” Yu Ping’an remarked.

“In past Grand Assemblies of Ten Thousand Arts, conflicts between these sect disciples were almost inevitable. Previously, such matters were handled by the Jingzhao Bureau, but now the responsibilities between Jingzhao Bureau and the Jinyiwei have been divided.

Jingzhao Bureau deals primarily with cases involving ordinary citizens, while we, the Jinyiwei, handle matters concerning nobles, high-ranking officials, and cultivators.

“This time, His Majesty specifically sent word that this Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts will be different—it will be grander than ever before. Our Jinyiwei must take precautions and prevent trouble before it starts.”

Wu Yanhan nodded but didn’t dwell too much on the matter.

It was only natural for the Jinyiwei to take on this responsibility.

However…

Liu Feng and the Princess of Chu had arrived.

The King of Xiliang had returned to the capital without a summons.

And now, the Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts had been brought forward by a year.

Everything was happening at once.

Was it all just a coincidence? Or was something significant about to unfold?

“Mr. Yu,” Wu Yanhan said after a moment of contemplation, “It seems unlikely that Commander Xu will wake up anytime soon. During this period, report everything to me. If anything major arises, I will make the decisions. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

She had a nagging feeling that something was about to happen.

At times like this, she needed to be involved in everything, ensuring that she had as much control as possible. Even if true control was out of reach, she at least needed to stay informed and be prepared.

“Of course,” Yu Ping’an nodded. “If anything happens, I will notify you immediately, Your Highness.”

Although Wu Yanhan held the rank of Qianhu in the Jinyiwei, few actually regarded her as just another officer.

And among the Jinyiwei, many whispered about her relationship with Commander Xu Ming—after all, when Xu Ming was struck unconscious by the Grand Pillar, he had fallen directly into Wu Yanhan’s arms.

After dealing with various matters in the Jinyiwei and issuing her decisions, Wu Yanhan left.

Meanwhile, in a small courtyard within Wu Capital…

An old man and a young man sat across from each other, playing a game of Go.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve come to play a game with this old man,” Elder Zhang chuckled as he placed a stone on the board. He looked up at the young man before him.

Xiao Mochi studied the board for a moment before placing his own piece. “I’ve been too busy these past few months and haven’t had the time to visit you, sir. But lately, things have been quieter, so I figured I’d come by for a game.”

“Quiet?” Elder Zhang stroked his beard, placing another stone. “Liu Feng, that old fox, has arrived in Wu Capital. Oh, and the Princess of Chu as well. Then the King of Xiliang returns unannounced. And now, the Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Arts is suddenly moved up by a year.

“Tell me, what exactly are you planning?

“Or rather… what is His Majesty planning?”

Xiao Mochi smiled faintly. “There’s actually one more arrival.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Prime Minister Fang.”

“…”

Elder Zhang froze, the stone he was about to place hanging in mid-air.

He lifted his gaze, staring intently at Xiao Mochi.

“Could it be that His Majesty intends to—”

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly hesitant to say the words aloud.

Xiao Mochi simply nodded.

Then, he set another stone down on the board, smoothed his sleeves, and spoke slowly.

“This world… its rules are about to change.”