After the Great Dao Died

A curtain hung above the jade terrace of the temporary palace.

A silhouette passed behind it.

The hall gradually quieted.

The curtain was woven of silvery-red cicada-wing gauze, thin as smoke and sheer as mist, blurring the figure behind it.

One could only faintly make out a figure sitting upright, his posture as straight as a pine and completely motionless, like a mud idol and wooden statue enshrined on an altar.

It required no thought to guess who it was.

That was the Crown Prince’s throne; the figure behind the gauze, naturally, was the Crown Prince himself.

Everyone rose, straightened their robes and headwear, stepped within three paces of the throne, and bowed deeply.

”We greet His Highness, the Crown Prince.”

A light cough sounded from behind the curtain, followed by a young voice.”Dispense with the formalities. Be seated.”

The voice was neither loud nor particularly gentle, yet it carried an unquestionable authority, as if every word he spoke were naturally heavier than anyone else’s.

The crowd gave their thanks and returned to their seats.

Just then, a man stood up on the side of the hall.

The man was exceptionally heavily built, his shoulders and back broad as a mountain. When he stood, it was like a wall rising from the floor.

He wore dark martial attire with a long saber slung at his waist. The scabbard was a dull, heavy black, its hilt wrapped in a dark red cord that had been stained black with dried blood.

His features were not particularly ferocious. In fact, he could even be called handsome, with thick eyebrows, large eyes, a high-bridged nose, and full lips.

But the light in his eyes was not that of a normal man; it harbored an undisguised, almost childlike cruelty.

Who was this man?

Someone chuckled. ”Brother Chihu wants to check the beast fighters’ teeth again!”

Chihu?

Qiu Chihu!

Memories from over two years ago surfaced in Chen Lingxi’s mind, and he suddenly recalled the man.

Back when he was in the capital, he had long heard of his reputation.

The son of Qiu Huai, Commander of the Capital Guards—Qiu Chihu.

It was naturally not a good reputation. Known for his cruelty, he styled himself the ”Kyoto Ferocious Tiger.”

He’s here too...

Chen Lingxi narrowed his eyes.

Qiu Chihu unbuckled his long saber and casually set it on the table. The blade struck the red sandalwood with a dull, heavy thud.

He bowed to the Crown Prince, ignored everyone else in attendance, and strode toward the side of the hall.

Toward the group of over thirty people.

The hall fell silent for a fraction of a second.

Then the low hum of conversation resumed. Guests raised their cups, chuckled quietly, or turned to chat with their neighbors, as if Qiu Chihu’s actions were entirely trivial.

Qiu Chihu stopped in front of the thirty-odd people.

His gaze swept over them slowly, starting from the first person on the left.

Under his scrutiny, some lowered their eyes, some turned slightly away, and some clenched and unclenched their fists. Yet no one dared to meet his gaze.

The corners of Qiu Chihu’s mouth crept upward.

He stepped forward and walked down the line.

He stopped abruptly in front of the third person.

It was a young man in his early twenties with thick eyebrows and large eyes. He had a solid build and stood ramrod straight in his short martial tunic.

Qiu Chihu reached out and clamped a hand over the young man’s jaw.

His fingers were as thick as iron tongs. As he gripped the jaw, he forced the young man’s face upward, making his mouth fall open involuntarily.

Qiu Chihu tilted his head and leaned in, his eyes falling to the young man’s gaping mouth to inspect his teeth.

The young man tensed all over, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but ultimately he neither struggled nor uttered a sound.

Qiu Chihu stared for a few breaths, let go, and patted the young man’s cheek.

The two slaps were not heavy, but they landed with a sharp smack that rang exceptionally clear on the quiet side of the hall.

”Teeth are alright,” he muttered. His voice was not loud, but it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear.

This instantly drew a burst of laughter from the gathered nobles.

Then he continued down the line.

He inspected two more—prying their mouths open, checking their teeth, and patting their cheeks.

He looked for all the world like an old farmer buying cattle at a market, prying open their mouths to check their teeth so he could gauge their age and judge if they could still pull a plow.

Chen Lingxi stood in the middle of the formation.

He stood with his hands at his sides, his expression calm, his gaze resting on the mirror-smooth lapis lazuli floor tiles.

Qiu Chihu’s footsteps drew closer and closer.

Boot soles clacked against the stone tiles. One step, two steps, three.

Then, the footsteps stopped.

They stopped right in front of Chen Lingxi.

Qiu Chihu’s gaze fell upon him.

He slowly swept his eyes from top to bottom, and then from bottom to top.

He was just about to reach out.

But Chen Lingxi suddenly raised his head and opened his mouth on his own, revealing a fine set of teeth.

”A smart one.” Qiu Chihu laughed heartily. ”And not a bad set of teeth.”

He clapped Chen Lingxi on the shoulder. These two pats were heavier than before, the sheer wind of his palm pressing down so that Chen Lingxi felt his shoulder sink slightly. ”Neat and even. Not a single one missing, not a single one crooked.”

He turned and walked back.

Chen Lingxi lowered his eyes and closed his mouth, his expression unchanged.

From the Main Hall, someone asked in a hushed voice, ”This Qiu Chihu... what is he doing?”

Another voice, even lower, spoke as if terrified of being overheard, practically whispering into the first person’s ear. ”You don’t know? This Qiu Chihu also loves flower arranging. But his methods are different from others. He likes to arrange flowers in human bones, and uses human teeth for accents.”

Arranges flowers in human bones, and uses human teeth for accents...

Chen Lingxi kept his head down, his expression unchanging.

Qiu Chihu returned to his table, picked up his long saber, and tied it back at his waist.

He picked up his wine cup, downed it in a single gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and flashed a wide grin toward the curtain.

In the hall, the low hum of conversation continued.

Some discussed interesting rumors from the capital, some talked about this summer’s weather, and others whispered about the promotion of this or that official.

It was as if the scene just now had been merely an insignificant interlude during the banquet, forgotten as soon as it was witnessed.

County Princess Yunhe held a teacup, sipping slowly. Her gaze rested on Chen Lingxi at the side of the hall, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

Chu Linzi leaned back in her chair, completely ignoring Lin Longyue’s provocative glare.

Chen Lingxi stood in the formation, his hands hanging motionless.

Just then, someone walked out from behind the curtain.

It was a eunuch in his fifties.

The eunuch was expressionless. He raised his right hand and pointed his index finger toward the side of the hall.

Everyone in the hall followed his gesture.

There was a door there.

The door was a bright vermilion, roughly three zhang high and two zhang wide. A stone plaque hung above the lintel, carved with two words: ”Beast Combat.”

The calligraphy was vigorous, the strokes looking as if they had been carved by swords and split by axes, radiating a chilling murderous intent.

At this moment, the door was slowly opening.

There was no creaking, no rumbling, not a single sound.

The doors slid apart silently, as if pushed open from the inside by an invisible hand, revealing a deep, dark passage beyond.

At the end of the passage was another door.

This one was pitch-black, taller and wider than the first. It was tightly shut, but a sliver of eerie, pale blue light seeped through the crack, casting a ghastly pallor over the passage floor.

The eunuch spoke.

”All beast fighters, enter this palace.”

He paused. ”A deathmatch within the palace. Only one survives.”

”Only one survives?” Lin Longyue’s pupils contracted...

”It isn’t a one-on-one duel where the victor wins?”

She looked toward Chen Lingxi, Zheng Qingya, and their third companion.

Then she looked at Chu Linzi and County Princess Yunhe. The two women looked completely normal, seemingly having known this all along!

Instantly, a low commotion spread among the thirty-odd beast fighters at the side of the hall.

Someone took a deep breath, someone clenched his fists, someone swallowed hard. Others lowered their heads, their lips moving rapidly as if reciting a silent prayer.

Chen Lingxi took a deep breath, suppressing the restless agitation in his chest.

”Did you... hear me?”

Seeing that no one had moved, the eunuch spoke again!

In an instant, the thirty-odd beast fighters felt as though a heavy hammer had smashed into their minds, leaving them dizzy and disoriented. Some could not even stand steady and collapsed to the floor.

The eunuch said no more and turned back, his pace unhurried, the hem of his python robe swaying gently behind him.

He stopped beside the curtain, hands at his sides, returning to his silent, puppet-like state from before.

Having witnessed the old eunuch’s terrifying might, and seeing the armored guards at the door, someone finally stepped forward.

The first person moved.

A second followed, then a third, and a fourth.

Over a dozen people stepped out of the formation one after another. Some were hesitant, some resolute; some looked perfectly normal, while others were deathly pale.

Zheng Qingya stepped out from the ranks. His pace was steady, his expression tranquil, betraying neither joy nor anger.

As he passed Chen Lingxi, he paused slightly and threw him a sidelong glance.

The look was complex—carrying a hint of rivalry, but also seeming to hold a sigh of sympathy for their shared plight.

He said nothing, withdrawing his gaze and striding toward the door.

Zhou Xian followed behind Zheng Qingya, and Chen Lingxi also stepped out of the formation, striding over the threshold.

Behind them, the bright vermilion door closed without a sound.

Directly ahead was the second door.

The pitch-black door towered before them.

Then, the massive black door slowly opened.

Inside was pitch-black, impossible to see clearly.

People entered one by one.

Chen Lingxi stepped inside, stepping into the darkness, and was instantly shocked!

The space behind the door wasn’t a passageway, nor was it a palace hall!

It was actually... an entire world!