Jin Se

Chapter 44

The area around Ziyun Temple, located in the northwest corner of Pingyang City, was entirely closed off to civilians. The imperials guards within the city had secured it thoroughly inside and out. There were many civil and military officials solemnly lining the street. At their head, was Zou Yanlai and a man wearing a tall headdress.

Normally, the wide Gunjin Street in front of the temple was a bustling marketplace with a river of people, carts, and horses flowing through it. But now, the only ones there were soldiers, armored and armed.

There was a tall building on Gunjin Street named Longwang Pavilion. It was regularly packed with people; if one got there late they wouldn't even be able to squeeze past the front door, for it was the tallest building in Pingyang City. On the top floor, one could see almost the entire capital, aside from the imperial palace and inner city.

Yet now, it was strictly under guard. The curtains on the top floor had been lowered, though one could sometimes catch sight of fleeting shadows moving behind it. Occasionally, there'd be healers carrying boxes of medicine rushing in and out.

Inside the uppermost floor of Longwang Pavilion, there was a long couch. A young man stood silently beside it, his head bowed. On the long couch, there lay an old man, his hair and beard completely whitened, his face shriveled, his eyes sunken. He looked past the curtains gently swaying in the breeze, towards Ziyun Temple.

A hand covered with liver spots peeked out from under the covers. Yet the color of the man's robes was golden yellow - the emperor who'd gone forth to Jiulu Mountain at the prime of his life to borrow luck was now old and stooped. The Grand Mentor Yan Zhen stood by his side.

Right at noon, dark clouds had cast their gloom over the whole of Pingyang City. A deafening clap of thunder struck the old scholar tree in Ziyun Temple's courtyard. Then, the temple's heavy lacquered doors slowly swung open from within. The temple had once been the place of seclusion for generations of Imperial Preceptors, but the position had been left empty ever since the last dynasty. It seemed that it'd been hundreds or even thousands of years since the last time the doors to Ziyun Temple had opened.

The hinges screeched terribly like the creaky bones of an old corpse with one foot in the grave, clawing its way out its coffin, reaching unrelentingly for something it wasn't willing to part with.

Clouds of dust puffed up into the air. It was so silent that the sound of breathing could be clearly heard. A long, long while later, a silhouette emerged from the pitch-black darkness behind the doors. In the Longwang Pavilion, the old emperor struggled to sit up.

The young man by his side hurriedly stepped forth to help him, yet the aged emperor still craned his wizened neck, the very image of an old turtle peeking out of a hotpot. His muddled eyes were fixated on the person standing in the doorway.

A man chanted in a raspy voice, "The Demon Lord has arisen -"

Afterward, countless voices drowned each other out. One could hardly tell that they were yelling the words "all hail." A horse-drawn cart made its way through the crowd, escorted by four fully-armored imperial guards. On the cart, was a deathly pale young girl, her hair disheveled, clothed in prisoner's garb. The word "sinner" was drawn in bold red across her chest. She had been gagged, unable to do more than silently weep.

That man once again bellowed, "Present the sacrifice -"

Shortly, the young woman was brought before the entrance to Ziyun Temple. Only then did the figure shrouded by darkness suddenly reveal himself. His face was perfectly gorgeous, his hair was unbound, and his forehead bore a black symbol. Oddly, it was shaped like a flower; those who saw it would be unwittingly struck by a sense of aberrance.