Yuan Mansion.

Wang Shun and a servant supported the drunken Yuan Ming back to his room, allowing him to lie down on the bed.

"You all... you all go out," he slurred. "Tonight unless I command... command otherwise, do not enter."

Hearing Yuan Ming's command, tinged with intoxication, Wang Shun led the servant out and remembered to close the door upon departure.

What they did not see was that after they left, Yuan Ming, who had been lying on the bed, suddenly disappeared only to reenter from outside the house after a long while.

With Yuan Ming's current level in the Soul Cultivation Realm and the Illusion Technique he used, not just these servants but even cultivators of the same level would hardly discern the truth.

Yuan Ming sat cross-legged on the bed, repeatedly examining the images within a blue Treasure Bead. After a moment of thought, he summoned an incense burner and inserted and lit the Black Incense.

In the wisp of smoke, Yuan Ming visualized in his mind the appearance of the Eighth Prince's heir and soon completed the possession.

At this time, the princely heir should have just returned to the Prince Manor, now in a tastefully decorated study, reporting his recent conversation with Lin Junsheng to his father.

Yuan Ming was already aware of these details and did not listen intently, instead, he took the opportunity to scrutinize the Eighth Prince before him.

It was not the first time he had seen the Eighth Prince, but he had never paid much attention to him before, and even the occasional encounter left little impression.

Clad in a python robe, the Eighth Prince sat upright in the main seat. His broad, square face bore a natural, majestic authority.

It must be said, this man indeed possessed a dignitary's aura.

Soon the heir completely reported his dialogue with Lin Junsheng.

The Eighth Prince tapped the arm of the chair lightly, his whole demeanor contemplative, engrossed in thought.

Seeing this, the heir did not dare to speak and simply stood quietly waiting.

"What is your opinion on Yuan Ming?" the Eighth Prince asked after a long pause.

"He was once nothing more than a frivolous noble son. That he could return alive from the Southern Border and become a cultivator means he has some capabilities. But here in the Imperial City, with the State Preceptor in place, he wouldn't dare stir any trouble," the heir said.

"You may leave," the Eighth Prince said with a noncommittal nod.

The heir seemed to want to say something more to his father but did not dare to disobey the Eighth Prince's order and could only bow and leave.

Yuan Ming's possession continued, yet afterward the heir went straight to his own courtyard, lounged on a rattan chair, commanded two young maids, both around the age of twenty-eight, to knead his legs and massage his shoulders, all while perusing a coverless book with relish, quite comfortably.

Yuan Ming followed the heir's gaze to the book in his hands, amused internally. The content was indeed "Young Master Sheng's Southern Journey."

This way, he was unable to obtain any useful information.

"I had thought behind Lin Junsheng might be someone from Chang Chun Temple, but it turned out to be the Eighth Prince. Yet I wonder, what dealings does the Eighth Prince have with the State Preceptor, and who ordered the three people who went to the Southern Border to kill me?" Yuan Ming pondered secretly after returning to his own body.

Although he had some leads, he could not obtain crucial information at the moment and soon closed his eyes to continue cultivating the Nine Elements Technique.

As time passed, three months flew by in the blink of an eye.

The popularity of "Young Master Sheng's Southern Journey" had waned from its initial fervor. Yuan Ming's life had gradually returned to normal, spending his days greeting his parents and devoting the rest of his time to cultivation.

Of course, this was unavoidably interrupted every now and then when the young Emperor summoned him to the palace or came directly to the mansion himself.

In the past, this had been a common occurrence, so neither Yuan Ming's parents nor the servants in the mansion found it odd.

In the meantime, Yuan Ming had repeatedly possessed the Eighth Prince using the incense, attempting to discern who the true mastermind was. However, the reclusive and unassuming Eighth Prince showed no particular signs.

If one were to say that the assassinations were orchestrated by the Eighth Prince, even Yuan Ming himself found it hard to believe.

Yet Yuan Ming kept a careful watch; each time he possessed the prince and failed to obtain direct information, he simply kept implanting suggestions in the Eighth Prince's mind, making him unconsciously worried that his ascension to the throne might be fraught with complications and prompting him to seek help from Chang Chun Temple.

As the saying goes, effort pays off. Yuan Ming's persistent effort first caused the normally well-regulated Eighth Prince to suffer from insomnia and grow somewhat irritable.

After several attempts, during one possession, Yuan Ming suddenly discovered that a Daoist disciple was leading the way. Verdant mountains and rivers surrounded them, and below was a flight of stairs made of white jade.

The Prince of Da Jin, ranked just below the Emperor in power, did not dare to show any arrogance in front of the ordinary Daoist disciple, and even though sweat almost soaked through his robe, he refrained from speaking unnecessarily.

Yuan Ming felt a flutter of excitement in his heart, but soon calmed his spirit.

After leading the Eighth Prince to a tastefully decorated room, the Daoist disciple asked him to wait before turning to leave.

The waiting seemed extraordinarily lengthy, and the Eighth Prince paced back and forth in the room, appearing somewhat agitated.

Yuan Ming was also busy, memorizing the room's appearance as he followed the gaze of the Eighth Prince.

It was unclear how much time had passed when faint footsteps, growing louder, approached from outside the house.

The Eighth Prince turned his head, glimpsing through the window a figure in a Daoist robe approaching. But just as he sought a clearer view, the Black Incense burned out, and the vision before Yuan Ming's eyes began to blur.

The last thing he saw was a Purple Gold Taoist Robe and three long beards hanging over the chest.

...

Time passed, month by month.

A few days before the succession ceremony began, Da Jin Capital entered its strictest state of martial law since the new Emperor had ascended the throne.

In addition to the two hundred thousand imperial guards deployed around the Imperial Palace, nearly half of the thirty thousand reserve troops from outside the city were also called in to fortify the Capital.

The city's defense forces were unprecedentedly strong.

Simultaneously, the Capital began early preparations for the succession ceremony. Led by the Ministry of Revenue and Ministry of Industry, major streets throughout the city were extensively decorated, heralding a transformed Capital.

But the succession ceremony was not a celebration to be enjoyed with the populace, thus the atmosphere in the city was solemn rather than festive, due to the mobilization of troops.

Early in the morning, before daylight.

Shangyang Palace was already brightly lit.

Surrounded by three eunuchs, the young Emperor was being dressed in his ceremonial Gown and crown. Despite his youthful appearance, he radiated the majestic aura of a sovereign.

The attendants standing nearby were all tense, except for one who was calmly holding a tray of pastries, always smiling gently whenever his gaze fell on the young Emperor.

Once the young Emperor's ceremonial attire was neatly in place and he had dismissed everyone else, he rubbed his stiff cheeks and took a pastry from Yuan Ming's hand, biting into it.

"It's so bothersome doing these rituals, overly complicated," the young Emperor mumbled through his snack.

"Who else but your Majesty could be the Son of Heaven?" Yuan Ming said with a smile.

"I'll be out of this bitter sea soon, heh heh," the young Emperor said cheerfully.

"There aren't many in the world who would consider the throne a bitter sea, apart from your Majesty," Yuan Ming asked with a smile.

"What's so good about the throne? Originally, I only lost my will to cultivate after being rejected by Chang Chun Temple. My father intended for me to begin cultivating after producing an heir to continue the lineage, but this time I will disappoint him," the young Emperor sighed.

"You have lost the throne but embarked on the path of immortality. I believe your father won't blame you. You should marry Sister Lou Lan soon; she waited for you for so many years—a woman like her is hard to find in this world. Once you join Chang Chun Temple, you two will be like a pair of immortal beings," Yuan Ming chewed on a piece of almond cake and teased.

"Yes, casting aside mundane troubles and completing our pact, then cultivating together with Sister Lou Lan. When free, traveling to scenic spots to see the world's great landscapes—it's better than being in this cage. That is truly a divine life," the young Emperor said, his face lighting up with anticipation.

"Someday I'll take you to Southern Border, the scenery there is endless, and there are many secret realms. I once visited a place called Snake King Valley, which harbors a great secret, but sadly, my power is not yet sufficient," Yuan Ming said.

"Good, no matter what comes next, today I will grant you justice," the young Emperor asserted with a commanding look.

Hearing this, even though Yuan Ming had long known of the young Emperor's plans for the day, he couldn't help but feel warmth in his heart.

...

Outside the Shangyang Palace hall, a Dragon Chariot awaited, ready to transport the young Emperor to the Heaven and Earth Altar.

As he held no official position, Yuan Ming was not supposed to attend the succession ceremony according to protocol, but the young Emperor, defying tradition, insisted that he accompany him.

The entourage numbering over a hundred people marched majestically to the Heaven and Earth Altar.

This place served as the royal sacrificial ground to offer blessings to heaven and earth for the common folk, surrounded by a circular altar with an inner square platform symbolizing the cosmological notion of a spherical Heaven and a square Earth.

As dawn broke, civil and military ministers from the court had already gathered at the Heaven and Earth Altar, lining up to wait.

The princes and imperial grandsons, usually hard to gather in one place and essentially the young Emperor's uncles and brothers, had also donned court attire and assembled outside the altar.

Officials from the Honglu Temple had also led envoys from neighboring countries such as Yue, Zhao, and Wu, waiting outside.

When the Emperor arrived by chariot, a grand symphony of ceremonial music overseen by the Ministry of Rites began to play, heightening the solemn atmosphere.

The Grand Sacrificial Officer of the Imperial College, an elderly, respected man with white hair, dressed in ceremonial robes, sincerely recited the "Sacrificial Text" on behalf of the Emperor. Only then did the young Emperor step onto the Heaven and Earth Altar slowly.

He ordered the offering of triple sacrifices and five grains, poured fine wine, and holding incense with both hands, he loudly recounted his achievements during his reign and the reasons for his abdication. He bowed in all four cardinal directions, showing reverence to the heavens and the earth from all sides.

Outside the Heaven and Earth Altar, imperial relatives, civil and military ministers, foreign envoys, and all guards and eunuchs, some bending at the waist, some clasping their fists, and some outright kneeling and bowing in homage, all joined in shouting "Long live."

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