Quinn Shepherd felt a chill run down his spine. If True Heaven Matron was still hiding somewhere in True Heaven Palace, then it was enemy in the shadows, us in the light—if she launched a surprise attack, who could possibly stop her?
He had no idea whether the Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire could withstand her, but he was absolutely certain he himself could not!
Even if True Heaven Matron couldn’t kill the Imperial Preceptor, she could definitely kill him.
"Who is True Heaven Matron’s real target—the Imperial Preceptor, or me?"
Quinn blinked. The Imperial Preceptor was far more dangerous—he’d cultivated a Divine Bridge and destroyed Princess Father and True Heaven Matron’s avatar. Logically, she ought to target him.
But back in the Flame Desert, True Heaven Matron’s divine statue had repeatedly tried to kill Quinn. And this time, he’d played a crucial role in storming True Heaven Palace. Compared to the Preceptor, True Heaven Matron’s hatred for Quinn must run even deeper!
"No matter what, I have to stay glued to the Preceptor—never leave his side!" he resolved silently.
The Imperial Preceptor reached out and swept his hand; the women stuck to the wall slid aside, revealing the fourth mural.
The fourth mural depicted a battle—True Heaven Matron versus the Solar and Lunar Arks.
True Heaven Matron had started the war herself, invading the Great Ruins and luring the Lunar and Solar Arks in pursuit. She retreated all the way to the Flame Desert, where she destroyed them one after another.
The battle scene in the mural was grand and spectacular—giant land-faring ships unleashing the sun or moon, with Sun Wardens and Moon Wardens standing atop them, their figures towering but their faces twisted and sinister, clearly villains to the core.
But it wasn’t just True Heaven Matron fighting—there were other gods from the heavens, too. In the mural, those gods were drawn tiny, while True Heaven Matron was heroic and radiant, her presence vast and mighty. The others looked like infants in front of her!
"Was True Heaven Matron really that strong?" Quinn couldn’t help but wonder.
The Imperial Preceptor said, "Let me tell you a story, and you’ll see whether True Heaven Matron is truly strong. One day, the Emperor took me and the ministers out hunting. Afterward, he ordered a palace artist to paint the scene. The artist painted the Emperor this big—"
He gestured with his hands to show the size, then pinched his fingers together to indicate his own figure in the painting. "And me—this small. The Emperor was colossal, standing over the world, while I and the ministers were tiny, with me the smallest of all. Worse, the artist made me look sly and vicious, with a sneaky, treacherous expression. The Emperor was dissatisfied and ordered another painting, but the artist did it again. So the Emperor fired him and sent him packing."
Quinn got the point and laughed. "The muralist was just flattering True Heaven Matron. She might not be stronger than you—otherwise, she wouldn’t need to attack you with an avatar."
"True Heaven Matron is definitely powerful, but her fighting ability has big flaws. Her magic is overwhelming, but her arts follow the path of ‘all things have spirit, all things have gods.’ If she doesn’t show herself, I can’t touch her. If she does, she dies."
The Imperial Preceptor spoke with strong confidence, then suddenly shifted topics as if reminding Quinn: "If the Emperor has flatterers like that around him, don’t you think other powerful figures do too? Flattery itself isn’t scary—what’s scary is when those people have hidden agendas. Making me and the ministers small is one thing, but painting me as treacherous shows his malice. He wanted to use flattery to poison the Emperor’s view of me, make him think I was a villain, and block reform. Flattery and a hidden arrow together—deadly."
He looked at Quinn, half-smiling. "As Cult Master, your power sometimes even surpasses the Emperor’s. You’d better watch out for people who hide arrows in their flattery."
Quinn couldn’t help but laugh—‘arrows hidden in flattery,’ the Preceptor really was both refined and earthy.
When he was in a refined mood, he could talk philosophy with Deaf and the Butcher for hours; when he was earthy, he’d toss out phrases like ‘arrows hidden in flattery’ without a second thought.
Still, you really do run into people like that in life—flattering the boss while stabbing rivals in the back. The Imperial Preceptor was right to warn him.
"In the mural, there’s True Heaven Matron and other gods. Where did those other gods come from?"
Quinn studied the mural, examining the other gods’ faces. Suddenly he recognized one. "Lord Yu is in there! Are these gods from High Heaven? No, not all of them!"
He spotted another familiar face!
He pulled a scroll from his Glutton Dragon Pouch, unrolled it, and carefully compared it to one of the gods in the mural.
The Imperial Preceptor leaned in, then blinked in surprise. "Isn’t that the Soul-Worship Painting you made, Cult Master?"
"That’s the one."
Quinn looked up at the mural. "Ben Coates’s soul-worship technique is bizarre—when he uses it, a god-demon’s shadow appears behind him. I drew this painting based on that shadow. Preceptor, look—doesn’t that god in the mural look a lot like the one I painted?"
The Imperial Preceptor studied it for a moment, then nodded.
Quinn frowned in confusion, thinking, "The god-demon behind Ben Coates once appeared in this world. Just like True Heaven Matron founded True Heaven Palace, he founded Loulan Golden Palace. So—is he still out there somewhere? If he is..."
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Ben Coates’s soul-worship technique—whoever he worships dies. If that god used it himself, who could survive even a single bow?
"These murals only record True Heaven Matron’s history. They don’t have what I’m looking for."
The Imperial Preceptor shook his head and walked out of the hall. "If True Heaven Palace really is part of the Heavenly Court, then there should be murals here recording far older history—not just True Heaven Palace’s! There must be murals about the Heavenly Court itself!"
Quinn followed him out. Only then did the Yu women stuck to the wall finally fall down and regain movement.
Outside, the fighting was still raging—utter chaos, with the great houses all scheming and sabotaging each other to snatch the Vermilion Bird Pearl.
(This chapter isn’t finished yet~.~ Click next page for more!)
The Vermilion Bird Pearl’s power was immense, no less than the Azure Dragon Pearl’s. As one of True Heaven Palace’s four supreme spirit treasures, it was bound to spark a fierce struggle.
The West might be ruled by women, but their power struggles were just as ruthless as Everpeace’s.
Quinn followed the Imperial Preceptor to the main hall of True Heaven Palace, where the murals were distinctly different from those in the other halls.
The Imperial Preceptor stood before one mural, his face calm at first—then his eyes began to twitch violently, and terror flashed across his features.
Quinn looked at the mural too. It depicted the towering Heavenly Court, with an emperor hosting a banquet for countless gods—all attending the feast!
"Tu Bo!"
Quinn’s heart leapt—among the gods, he spotted Tu Bo, with horns rising from his head!
In this mural, Tu Bo’s status was extremely high, but his face was hard to make out.
And there were many other figures in the mural whose faces were just as indistinct!
In other words, there must have been many beings like Tu Bo.
The gods in the painting were vivid and lifelike, as if truly alive—the artist who created these murals was exceptionally skilled.
Quinn scanned the crowd of gods but couldn’t find True Heaven Matron’s image, nor did he spot Princess Father. "Could it be that True Heaven Matron hadn’t been born yet at that time?"
The Imperial Preceptor’s eyes were still twitching, his voice hoarse: "This is the true Heavenly Court... the real Heavenly Court... No wonder—even the Kaihuang Kingdom was destroyed..."
Quinn grabbed his hand—the Imperial Preceptor’s hand was shaking, and his eyes were filled with deep fear, confusion, and helplessness.
"Preceptor, are you scared by a painting?" Quinn teased, laughing.
The Imperial Preceptor pulled his hand away, his throat still rough: "Aren’t you afraid? Didn’t you see how many gods there are in this Heavenly Court? Didn’t you notice Tu Bo among them? Don’t you realize the fall of the Kaihuang Era might have been the work of the gods of the Heavenly Court?"
Despair flickered across his face. He laughed bitterly: "I once thought I could sweep away corruption, restore the world to clarity, give the people courage to fight the gods in their broken temples and broken hearts. But it turns out I’m just a joke! Cult Master Quinn, you know nothing! If I keep pushing reforms, Everpeace will end up the same way! Reform—ha, reform..."
He was utterly dejected, spiritless. "I’m not going to High Heaven. When I get home, I’ll take my wife and children and retire. Cult Master, you... you go on being Cult Master. As for reform—don’t touch it again."
He turned and walked toward the door, his whole demeanor bleak—suddenly, he’d lost all will to keep fighting.
"Preceptor, you asked me earlier if I understood. I’ll answer you now!"
The Imperial Preceptor stopped in his tracks.
"I do."
Quinn flashed a sunny smile. "I’m even more entangled than you are. The Kaihuang you mentioned—he was a Qin too. The last survivor of the destroyed Kaihuang Kingdom is standing right in front of you."
The Imperial Preceptor was stunned, freezing in place. He turned to Quinn, blurting out, "You—you..."
Quinn flashed eight white teeth in a dazzling grin. "My name might be fake, but my surname isn’t. Kaihuang’s Qin is my Qin. If I’m not afraid, why should you be? Preceptor, I just had an idea—help me grind the ink."
The Imperial Preceptor was still reeling from Quinn’s revelation, unable to grasp his meaning.
Quinn pulled out a brush and tossed the inkstone to him, eyeing the mural that had shattered the Preceptor’s courage. After a moment, Quinn’s eyes lit up—he’d found the crucial detail. "Is the ink ready?" he asked, smiling.
The Imperial Preceptor stood dazed, inkstone in hand. Quinn grinned, "Preceptor, this isn’t like you. Where’s the sage who appears only once every five hundred years?"
The Imperial Preceptor took a long breath, pushing aside his tangled thoughts and focusing on grinding ink for Quinn.
Quinn dipped his brush in ink, then added a few strokes to the lower right corner of the mural. "Wash the brush for me, would you?" he asked, smiling.
"You!"
The Imperial Preceptor suppressed his anger, replying coolly, "The Kaihuang Era ended twenty thousand years ago. The hundred generations of Kaihuang’s descendants aren’t necessarily nobler than a farmer. If you’re playing tricks on me, I’ll make your life miserable—forever."
Quinn burst out laughing. "Wash it first, then we’ll talk."
The Imperial Preceptor washed the brush with meticulous care. He did everything with absolute seriousness.
Quinn packed up the brush and inkstone, grabbed the Preceptor’s hand, and leapt toward the mural, laughing. "Let’s go join the feast—the banquet of the Heavenly Court!"
With a smack, the two slammed into the mural—and vanished into the painting.
——Second update! The author is working hard on the third—cheer him on!
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