A Pawn's Passage

Tantai Ying shrugged and spread her hands. “I don’t know either.”

Qi Xuansu had not truly expected Tantai Ying to answer. If she actually knew, she would not have described the information in her possession as merely scattered fragments.

But when heaven was mentioned, Qi Xuansu immediately thought of the original Paititi, also known as the Lost City and the Forgotten City of Gold.

Long ago, Qi Xuansu had obtained a map related to Paititi from Wang Jiaohe. It was said that the city contained Kukulkan’s secrets that was capable of allowing a Pseudo-Immortal to ascend into true immortality.

Since Qi Xuansu possessed the Longevity Stone Heart, he did not possess the same burning desire for ascension as others. Coupled with his overwhelming responsibilities and lack of spare time, he had never seriously begun searching for the legendary city.

Later, in St. York, Qi Xuansu had obtained a special “key” from the Baron that was rumored to be connected to Paititi, as well as to Kukulkan and Ixchel.

Now, it seemed more likely that it was actually connected to Itzamna and Ixchel. However, outsiders had little interest in carefully studying the origins of these ancient gods, so they had mistakenly confused Kukulkan with Itzamna.

It was also possible that Wang Jiaohe himself had confused the two as well.

After all, when Qi Xuansu first arrived in the New Continent, he had not realized that there had been a previous Sun God before Kukulkan. It was only after meeting Ixchel that he became aware of this fact.

For Qi Xuansu, this meant yet another clue, but also many more questions. The countless threads of the mystery had become even more tangled.

Tantai Ying then led Qi Xuansu to the archive storage area, where all the files related to the Shadow Cases were piled up. Her management style was meticulous. Everything had already been categorized and organized, and she had even compiled a detailed index. This was also why she had been able to quickly assemble a summarized report for Qi Xuansu.

If Qi Xuansu wanted more detailed information, he would have to dig through these files himself.

The records for the disappearance of the Divine Eagle Guard were detailed down to the personal files of every missing member. Besides names, ages, and service histories, there were even investigations into their family backgrounds. The documentation was extremely thorough.

As for the Kamakai Island incident, although the Juesheng Hall could not possibly possess information on every individual involved, the important figures on the island and details regarding the missing merchant ships had all been carefully documented.

Qi Xuansu casually flipped through the documents rather than reading them page by page. After all, he was the Chief Deputy Beichen Hall Master. It would be absurd for someone of his position to personally sit here slowly combing through endless case files.

Since Huangfu Ji had already agreed to fully cooperate, there was no longer any excuse about lacking manpower. Naturally, the Juesheng Hall would now organize personnel to further sort, refine, and analyze the information within the files, then provide Qi Xuansu with targeted intelligence based on his investigative direction and requirements.

However, Qi Xuansu did not completely ignore the files either. Relying on his excellent memory, he skimmed through many of the cases at an almost unbelievable speed, practically reading ten lines at a glance. They were far more detailed compared to Tantai Ying’s summaries.

This also allowed Qi Xuansu to notice details he had previously overlooked. For example, the appearance of the shadows had not been entirely without warning. Yet most of the time, those in power either paid no attention to such matters or had become numb and indifferent, failing to recognize the pattern. Thus, when the shadows accumulated to a critical point and finally erupted, everyone perceived it as a sudden occurrence.

At the same time, Qi Xuansu also examined the blood letter left by the Divine Eagle Guard. Unlike the reproduced copy, the original gave him a completely different impression. It resembled a talisman.

Words possessed power. That was why the West had developed all kinds of runic scrolls, while the East created talismans and seals. Both relied on the power inherent within written language.

This blood letter looked familiar to Qi Xuansu.

However, the power remaining within the blood letter was already like the final flicker of a candle in the wind. Mixed with divine power, it had become so faint as to be nearly imperceptible. If Qi Xuansu had not possessed his own divine domain, he likely would not have sensed it at all.

The Western Daoist Order primarily focused on Qi Refiners and Martial Arts Practitioners, while Shamans and Diviners were almost nonexistent among them. Thus, it was only natural that the people of Juesheng Hall had failed to notice it.

Before long, night arrived. Gong Fu, the second-ranking figure of the Western Daoist Order, sent an invitation to Qi Xuansu, forcing him to temporarily suspend his investigation and attend the banquet.

The banquet was personally hosted by Gong Fu himself. Although figures such as Tantai Zhenxiao and Huangfu Zhao did not appear, the occasion was still considered extremely high-profile.

The reason was to thank Qi Xuansu, as well as the powerful factions behind him within the Daoist Order, for speaking up in support of the Western Daoist Order during the Golden Tower Council discussions.

At the same time, the gesture also carried the implication of tying Qi Xuansu with them. Qi Xuansu did not particularly oppose such an arrangement. To take sides half-heartedly was effectively the same as not taking sides at all, and those who refused to choose a side rarely met good endings.

During the banquet, Gong Fu praised Qi Xuansu as a young hero. Of course, at Qi Xuansu’s age, he could hardly still be considered “young,” yet in the eyes of an old man like Gong Fu, people in their thirties were not all that different from teenagers. They were all simply youngsters to him.

During the banquet, Gong Fu drank much and spoke in a half-drunken demeanor, lamenting that such an outstanding young man was already spoken for. Otherwise, Tantai Zhenxiao’s eldest granddaughter, Tantai Ying, who remained unmarried, would have been a perfect match for Qi Xuansu.

Before Qi Xuansu could even respond, Tantai Ying had already risen from her seat and left the banquet. She had a hot temper and did not even bother to show respect to Great Sage Gong by bidding him goodbye.

Gong Fu had long been accustomed to such behavior and did not take offense. He could not even be bothered to say things like, “Insolent!” or “Get back here!”

He simply let her do as she pleased.

Tantai Ying truly was spoiled rotten. Clearly, the upper ranks of the Western Daoist Order were less uptight compared to their counterparts in the Daoist Order.

This was not surprising. Under immense external pressure and surrounded by hostile foreign powers, as long as survival remained the priority, many internal conflicts would be suppressed, and many problems would deliberately be left unspoken. As a result, the group became more united. Once internal infighting decreased, they seemed closer.

In contrast, the Daoist Order faced a very different situation. The Holy Court was too far away. Even though both sides harbored hostility toward one another, their comparable strength and the immense distance made decisive action difficult for either side. Neither wished to make the first move. Thus, the Daoist Order existed in an environment where external pressure was minimal while internal conflict flourished. In such circumstances, although everyone was connected through family ties and affiliations, most relationships were merely superficial politeness.

After the banquet ended, Gong Fu invited Qi Xuansu to watch a performance. It was a newly created play that blended the characteristics of many regional operas from the Central Plains while presenting highly unconventional content.

The theater was enormous, resembling an enlarged traditional opera house. Qi Xuansu and Gong Fu were escorted to the front row, where only the two of them sat. There had originally been a seat reserved for Tantai Ying as well, but she had already stormed off earlier.

Everyone else sat behind them, displaying the strict hierarchy of the Western Daoist Order. In the Daoist Order, which publicly preached equality, such arrangements were uncommon. The Western Daoist Order, however, had simply torn away that veil of pretense.

While Qi Xuansu was lost in such thoughts, the performance began. He temporarily set aside the many concerns in his mind, which was replaced with absurdity.

One after another, faces from the Central Plains appeared wearing wigs and dressed in Western clothing, acting out a Western story. It truly was unconventional.

This reminded Qi Xuansu of the new play he and Zhang Yuelu had once watched in Taishang District of Jade Capital about The Trial of Galileo.

When the actors began to sing, Qi Xuansu could barely control his expression.

“The Holy Maiden was not born of mortal making. A primordial sacred spirit descended into the mortal world...”

“As she felt her womb twisting as if knives were hidden within, the Holy Child was preparing to enter the world...”

“Hearing this, the Three Sages quickly set forth to present their gifts. They brought baskets of fresh fruit and 5 kilograms of refined white flour...”

“Master Joseph, sit down now. Listen while I speak from the heart...”

“She became pregnant before the wedding rites, so I know doubts weigh heavily upon your heart. Who exactly is the child’s father? You cannot sleep day or night...”

“This child was created by the Holy Spirit, using the mother’s womb to descend into the mortal world. He shall atone for the sins of all mankind, the Messiah Immanuel...”

“The grace of the Supreme Will is boundless and vast. The name of the Virgin Mother shall endure forever...”

This play incorporated some of the legends and stories of the Holy Court, but Qi Xuansu felt that there was nothing holy about it.

After the performance ended, Qi Xuansu received a message from Gong Jiaojun.

The greatest advantage of the Ziwei Hall was its superior access to information. Whenever a certain Sage was about to retire or a position was becoming vacant, the Ziwei Hall was always the first to know. That difference in timing was invaluable. Knowing first allowed one to take the first step, which greatly increased one’s chances of success.

Gong Jiaojun relayed a piece of news to Qi Xuansu, which was the reopening of the position for the Wanxiang Daoist Palace Master.

The greatest advantage of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace was its self-contained structure. Within its own small circle, it was like a small kingdom.

Among the many Daoist Palaces, the Wanxiang Daoist Palace was able to stand alongside the Zixiao Palace and even warrant its own Great Sage because it concerns the descendants and future of the Daoist Order.

Daoists who graduated from the Wanxiang Daoist Palace regarded the Great Sage and Palace Master as their mentors. This formed a natural political faction. The reason Great Sage Shi favored Qi Xuansu was precisely because Qi Xuansu himself came from the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. Moreover, the Wanxiang Daoist Palace also handled the training of high-ranking Daoists, further creating a disguised form of teacher-student relationship.

Of course, the Wanxiang Daoist Palace also had its disadvantages. It tended toward excessive isolation. Once one left the Daoist Palace, one’s influence weakened greatly. Networks and connections only truly mattered when assistance flowed both ways. If help only went in one direction, it could hardly be called a network at all. Furthermore, spending too much time within the Daoist Palace often caused people to develop an overly academic or scholarly temperament, leaving them out of touch with the outside world. Sun Hewu was a prime example of this.

In short, the arrangement had both advantages and disadvantages. Nevertheless, Qi Xuansu’s future posting had now more or less been decided.