Chapter 1151: Chapter 722: The Prelude to War

Overcast, light rain.

According to the Dayan ceremonial processions, the Emperor’s formal outings are exceedingly troublesome affairs.

Even setting aside the Forbidden Army for protection, the entourage of guides, court musicians, and various formations of banners and flags symbolizing imperial authority alone exceed ten thousand personnel.

Once the procession begins, it often stretches over several miles.

In addition to this, the coordination of various court departments, the palace, and the Dayan Forbidden Army is required. Ultimately, everything must be presented to the Office of the Registrar of the Imperial Clan for review.

The completion of such a process takes no less than ten days.

However, that is the treatment afforded to an ordinary emperor.

As the so-called “Restorer of Prosperity” of Dayan, Li Yaoxuan’s control over the court—when the Prime Minister Party’s influence is excluded—has even surpassed that of the Dayan Ancestor at his prime. With such strength, naturally, he need not adhere to such rituals.

In the autumn of Jiaying Year 47,

at the Emperor Li Yaoxuan’s behest,

an escort of fewer than five hundred was loosely assembled, and the Emperor of Dayan, accompanied by the Second Prince, set out on the Northern Hunt…

The Imperial Dragon Forest lies one hundred miles northwest of Di’an City.

This expansive and unending maple forest has, since the founding of Dayan, been designated as the imperial hunting grounds of the Dayan royal house.

In addition to the more than one thousand Forest Guardians stationed year-round to maintain it, a company of Golden Armor Forbidden Army is also permanently garrisoned to drive away poachers who care more for profit than their lives.

At dawn, the light of the morning was faint,

and the maple leaves in the autumn forest, dyed red, exuded an ethereal serenity under the fine mist of rain.

On the distant horizon, the Emperor’s grand procession swept in like a vast tide.

In the skies above,

scouts mounted on countless avian beasts patrolled a radius of a hundred kilometers.

On the ground, along the main road,

tens of thousands of heavily armored infantry marched in formation, the military column neatly surrounding the massive palace carriage in the center, which was dragged by nine colossal land dragons.

The Dayan Emperor’s land-bound palace carriage stood nine stories tall, symbolizing the nine sacred tripods. Its surface was adorned in subdued gilt, exuding an aura of weight and majesty.

At the very top of the palace carriage, a massive yellow Luo umbrella shielded the Emperor from the fine rain along the road. On the umbrella, five-colored clouds and patterns of golden branches and jade leaves were intricately detailed, all leading to the place of the Emperor.

Beneath it,

the three most powerful men in Dayan sat around a bronze brazier engraved with the mythical beast Pixiu.

A middle-aged man with greying temples, exuding a refined demeanor, knelt calmly and meditated with closed eyes.

An elderly man, frail and clad in imperial robes, sipped fragrant tea from his cup with half-closed eyes.

The last, a burly man with a stocky build, seemed somewhat relaxed, spreading his hands over the brazier, seeking warmth against an autumn chill that could never truly touch him.

The clatter of hoofbeats echoed softly, enveloped in silence.

Since their departure from Di’an,

no,

since the three had convened the previous night, no words had been exchanged among them.

Only as they neared the Imperial Dragon Forest did Ran Jianli finally break the silence, seemingly unable to resist, his coarse voice chuckling:

“I recall the last time I came to the Imperial Dragon Forest was during the late Emperor’s reign. Back then, Your Majesty was still just an unremarkable prince. Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, decades have passed. We have all grown old.”

Li Yaoxuan set his porcelain cup on the low table before him, responding:

“State Preceptor, is it not true that the Prime Minister’s visage looks far from that of an old man?”

Xu Yinhè opened his eyes, his tone indifferent as he said:

“Does Your Majesty judge men only by appearances?”

Li Yaoxuan’s aged face twitched into a hollow smile, his murky eyes betraying none of his inner thoughts:

“There are certain people whose true nature cannot be discerned from appearances alone.”

He left the statement hanging, saying nothing more.

Turning his gaze to Ran Jianli, Li Yaoxuan spoke in a low voice:

“Of late, my desk has been flooded with rumors—rumors that the upheaval which caused the collapse of Zhenxi Prefecture was orchestrated by the Sect Alliance. State Preceptor, as the leader of the Sect Alliance, how do you view this?”

Ran Jianli grinned at the question, withdrawing his hands from the brazier and resting his arms on his knees. “If Your Majesty has reviewed the memorials, you should know that I, Ran, petitioned for a detachment of Outer Disciples to investigate as soon as news of the incident reached Di’an.”

The so-called Outer Disciples were, in fact, troops of the Sect Alliance.

The actions of the Qin Family and its Hidden Sects had provoked anger among many of the upper echelons of the Sect Alliance.

Some were furious for being kept blind, while others had known bits of the truth but had been ignored when decisions were executed.

Ultimately, the rage of the Sect Alliance’s leadership stemmed not from the Hidden Sect’s plotting in the Western Desert but from their greed—they had operated alone, shut others out, and, worse, failed, allowing the Prime Minister’s Mansion to reap the rewards.

Hearing Ran Jianli’s words, Li Yaoxuan feigned just the right amount of astonishment in his eyes and said:

“So the State Preceptor has already submitted a secret memorial. I have not seen it; it seems certain treacherous villains are working to blindfold me.”

His soft murmurs betrayed no urgency, but the chilling edge of his words hinted at latent killing intent.

Xu Yinhè paid no attention to the exchange between the other two, keeping his eyes half-lowered in silence, his posture upright.

At the current level of administrative efficiency in the Dayan Court, an event of such magnitude as the Western Desert Incident would typically be addressed in a single day, with appropriate policies disseminated to lower levels within three days.

Whether emergency deployment or cautious observation—regardless, an edict would be issued. Yet, despite the prolonged fermentation of the Western Desert Incident, its mention in court debates had only now begun to escalate.

This was indeed the deliberate suppression enacted by the Prime Minister Party within the court.

Because the Prime Minister’s Mansion needed time to devour Zhenxi Prefecture,

the Prime Minister Party sought every means to stall.

But at this juncture, where the masks were about to be cast aside, all the factions were abandoning their old reservations. Even Xu Yinhè, wielding immense power, could no longer silence the court’s clamor.

After all, no one wanted to see the Prime Minister’s Mansion successfully consolidate Zhenxi Prefecture.

The Western Desert Incident, serving as the fuse igniting the powder keg,

had led the Imperial Faction to demand a thorough investigation into its causes and consequences.

The Sect Alliance, led by the State Preceptor, likewise sought to collaborate with the Imperial Faction in the investigation.

Unlike before,

where memorials from all factions would precede backroom negotiations to establish a consensus,

now, with open insults branding opposing parties as traitorous parasites, all factions had begun mobilizing troops toward the west in secret.

Be it the Imperial Family or the Sect Alliance.

Both had amassed more than a hundred thousand soldiers at the borders of Xize State, ignoring roadblocks meant to guard the region, as they forced their way into the territory piecemeal.

The Imperial Family sought to claim a share or prevent the Prime Minister’s Mansion from monopolizing Zhenxi Prefecture.

The Sect Alliance aimed for something simpler:

The Hidden Sects had already capitulated to the present-day Sect Alliance.

Their actions were meant to secure and inherit the Hidden Sect’s decades-old foundation in Xize State, preventing it from slipping entirely into the Prime Minister’s hands.

After a moment’s lull,

Xu Yinhè finally broke the silence with a faint murmur, uttering a name:

“Jin Yue.”

Ran Jianli raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Xu Yinhè swept a calm gaze over the other two and glanced toward the grand military column beside the Emperor’s Palace:

“A mere Seventh Grade official—the County Magistrate of Suxi County in Xize State. He was murdered, slaughtered along with his entire family by an unknown band of elite armored warriors. With him perished a company of Zhenxi Army stationed in the county.”

This report had reached Xu Yinhè only two days prior.

However, the stationed troops in Suxi County weren’t Zhenxi Army at all but the Prime Minister’s Mansion’s Black Scale Army. Their numbers didn’t comprise merely a company but two full contingents.

They had fortified their position, guarding Xize State’s critical access route with the City Defense Formation. Yet they lasted less than half a day before being wiped off the map.

Ran Jianli squinted, appearing contemplative: “Who did it?”

“Unknown.”

Xu Yinhè retracted his gaze, shaking his head impassively. “But it’s foreseeable that Xize State will remain in chaos for quite some time.”

At those words, silence fell.

Though nothing was explicitly stated, the clarity of understanding among the three was akin to staring into a polished mirror. Beneath the somber stillness, the Emperor’s grand procession and palace carriage entered the Imperial Dragon Forest hunting grounds with overwhelming majesty.

The civil war of the Dayan Empire,

unfolding at the distant edge of the Western Desert, ten thousand miles away from Di’an,

had begun its first act in deadly earnest.