Chapter Fifty-Eight: Feigned Compliance

"Ascend the heavens, the lotus blooms, revealing the purple mist..." The phrase nearly slipped from his lips. Fortunately, Wang Zhenling's reflexes were sharp enough to swallow the words just in time!

"That was close. Was this a trap for me?"

The opening lines of the Juntian Temple’s foundational scripture were precisely: “Primordial Yang gives rise to a flower, the lotus ascends revealing purple mist.” These two lines were the very preamble of the temple’s secret teachings.

Why would this Five-Section Envoy recite these lines in front of him? Was he suspected of belonging to the Juntian Temple—or even being a transmigrator?

But then the Five-Section Envoy smiled and said, “Isn’t your Juntian Temple of the same lineage as ours?”

By now, Wang Zhenling had recovered, putting on a puzzled expression. “What are you talking about?”

The envoy only offered a mysterious smile, dropping the subject. Instead, he continued, “You mistake us for people of Mist Valley, but though those cultivators have some connection to us of the Heavenly Path, they are by no means our brethren.

In fact, all that intelligence your Magistrate Chen has gathered about the Wuhua Society and Mist Valley—he owes it to our assistance.”

This attitude made Wang Zhenling even more suspicious. Had the envoy truly seen through his origins? Or was it something else?

Still, he replied with a cold laugh, “Since when did your Heavenly Path—a crooked cult—grow so benevolent?”

“No need to put it so harshly. Our Heavenly Path is a reputable sect these days.

Not only are the court’s ministers and eunuchs devotees, but even the Emperor himself is a follower. Time and again, he has invited our Grand Celestial to the palace to lecture on scripture.”

“What?” Wang Zhenling was shocked. In his mind, the Heavenly Path was nothing but a heretical cult. Barely a decade ago, they had incited rebellion and been suppressed by the court.

How could they have transformed so quickly into a sect revered by the Emperor and the court’s great ministers?

Moreover, the Heavenly Path was a recent sect, worshipping a so-called “Celestial Perfection,” while the grand dynasty had long revered the gods and the Heavenly Emperor. The Emperor was said to be the Heavenly Emperor’s descendant, ruling the mountains, rivers, and all spirits by divine mandate—a lineage of sacred legitimacy. If the Emperor now placed his faith in the Heavenly Path, how could these contradictions be reconciled?

The envoy could not have guessed how deep Wang Zhenling’s thoughts ran. Smiling, he said, “No one can be deceived about such things. You just lack the rank to see the truth.

Let me ask you: have you heard of any decrees in recent years banning my Heavenly Path?”

Wang Zhenling fell silent. Just as the envoy said, such matters could be confirmed through inquiry—it was not something one could easily lie about.

“If the Emperor is a descendant of the Heavenly Emperor, where does faith in the Heavenly Path leave the gods of the old order?” asked Wang Zhenling.

The envoy smiled, “Forgive my bluntness, but do you recall how the previous dynasty fell?”

Though a transmigrator, Wang Zhenling had been born into the illustrious Wang clan of Danling and was well read in history. He would not make the mistake of those exam candidates from his previous life, who, after years of rote study, failed to know even who Cao Cao was.

He pondered the envoy’s words, but did not rush to answer.

“Wasn’t the Emperor of the last dynasty a descendant of the Heavenly Emperor as well? Yet how did it end? The Heavenly Emperor abandoned him, and a new dynasty rose in his place.

Besides, would the Heavenly Emperor ever allow the Emperor to attain immortality? Yet our Heavenly Path can grant it.”

Wang Zhenling quickly saw sense in this. Human desire is boundless. Once one becomes emperor, absolute power in hand, immortality is all that remains to pursue.

Consider the emperors of his former world and the extremes to which they went in search of eternal life—not just by foolish ones, but by the most ambitious and talented.

The likes of Qin Shi Huang and Han Wudi were the same. Even Taizong Li Shimin died from consuming an elixir of immortality prepared by foreign monks...

In any case, Wang Zhenling was no loyal servant of the court; just one who cultivated under its cover. If the Heavenly Path truly had such power, he had no qualms about cooperating with them.

“So, what do you want?” he asked bluntly.

The envoy was delighted. A cultivator who could infiltrate the government was truly worth courting.

“All you need do is ally with us, and with the Heavenly Path’s connections, it would be easy for the Magistrate to enter the Divine Capital’s Hongdu Imperial Academy.

With a nudge from someone at court, the Magistrate could become a court official—his prospects boundless. In time, even the highest offices would not be out of reach.”

Hongdu Imperial Academy was a new institution established by the Emperor in recent years, held in the highest regard—more than even the Guozijian, or Imperial College, whose graduates traditionally became minor officials, essentially interns awaiting their chance for years.

But Hongdu Imperial Academy was known as the Emperor’s private academy. Its students were called “the Emperor’s own disciples.”

These disciples could swiftly be appointed as governors, secretaries, palace attendants—and even ennobled.

Yet, for all its promise, admission was no easy feat. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

Still, the promise was extravagant and its fulfillment uncertain. Wang Zhenling cut to the chase: “Such prospects are distant. What is it you want from me now, Envoy?”

The envoy smiled, “In truth, it’s a small favor.”

“What favor?” Wang Zhenling was skeptical. He knew well that the more casually something was presented, the more complicated it tended to be.

“All you have to do is take the opportunity to bury a Golden Dragon Tablet somewhere in these mountains.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all,” the envoy replied with a sly smile, fixing his gaze on Wang Zhenling. If greed led Wang Zhenling to agree, their plan would succeed.

But Wang Zhenling’s heart was awash with suspicion. “The Golden Dragon Tablet—so this is the Golden Dragon Tablet. It turns out it’s in the hands of the Heavenly Path…”

For the truth was, the Golden Dragon Tablet was one of the treasures that Zhen Yunzi had carried across worlds—a fact recorded in the Juntian Temple’s secret notes. Apart from the Dual Realm Jade Pivot, the Golden Dragon Tablet was the most important artifact in Zhen Yunzi’s possession.

By chance, the Jade Pivot had ended up with Wang Zhenling, but the Golden Dragon Tablet’s whereabouts had long been unknown.

How had it fallen into the hands of the Heavenly Path?

Sensing his confusion, the envoy smiled, “The Golden Dragon Tablet cannot yet be given to you. When the time comes to act, it will then be handed over.”