Immortal Paladin

Yue Ruo stepped into her husband’s office, her footsteps quiet against the polished wooden floor. Ren Jin sat behind his desk, fingers steepled in thought, while Chief Enforcer Liang Na stood at attention by the window. At her entrance, both turned their gazes toward her, though it was Liang Na who acknowledged her first with a polite nod.

“Have you reached a decision?” Yue Ruo asked, her voice even.

Ren Jin exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. “We need to assign someone to the Daoist.”

Daoist. There was only one person they could mean—Da Wei, the mysterious cultivator who had appeared out of nowhere and somehow managed to entangle himself with imperial decrees, demonic plots, and sect affairs alike.

Liang Na’s expression did not shift. “I still believe it’s unnecessary. He’s proven capable of handling himself.”

Ren Jin scoffed. “Handling himself? The closer he gets to the Empire, the crueler the world becomes. Do you think those old monsters will tolerate his presence if he stumbles into their territory unprepared?”

Yue Ruo quietly moved to the side, listening as her husband continued.

“I don’t want to be blamed when some arrogant sect provokes him, and he wipes them off the map,” Ren Jin muttered, shaking his head. “If he acts out of ignorance rather than malice, it would be a waste of a perfectly salvageable sect.”

Liang Na crossed her arms. “And who do you propose we send? No one will be able to control him.”

“Not control,” Ren Jin corrected. “Guide. Someone who understands the landscape, the unspoken rules, the undercurrents of power.” His gaze landed on her meaningfully. “You would be the best choice.”

Yue Ruo watched as Liang Na’s jaw tensed. She had known the Chief Enforcer for years, long enough to recognize when she was displeased.

“I refuse.” Liang Na’s tone was firm. “I belong here, protecting you and your family. I will not leave.”

Yue Ruo took a slow breath before speaking. “And you should stay.”

Both Ren Jin and Liang Na turned to her.

Yue Ruo met her husband’s gaze. “Attaching her to the Daoist might gain us valuable insight, and it might build good rapport with him… but at what cost?” Her fingers traced the embroidery on her sleeve. “The main continent is not the Riverfall Continent. It is an entirely different battlefield.”

She turned her gaze to Liang Na. “You may be able to stand toe-to-toe with the sect masters here, but over there? You would be stepping into a world of tigers and dragons.”

Ren Jin exhaled, leaning against his chair. “You’re saying it’s too great a risk?”

“It is,” Yue Ruo affirmed. “Not just to Liang Na, but to the city.” She held his gaze steadily. “We can’t afford to lose her.”

Ren Jin rubbed his temple, silent for a moment. Then, he let out a tired chuckle. “I had a feeling you would say that.” He sat up straight, looking at Liang Na with a sharp gaze. “Then I will demand one thing in exchange.”

Liang Na raised a brow. “And that is?”

“If you stay, you must protect the city—not just me and my family.”

Yue Ruo felt a strange sense of understanding settle over her. So that was his true intention.

She knew firsthand where Liang Na’s priorities lay. When the demon had attacked, when all hell had broken loose, she had obeyed Ren Jin’s orders to the letter—but the moment she was free to act, she had gone straight for Yue Ruo and the children. She had dragged them to safety, ignoring everything else.

Because Liang Na had not sworn to protect the city. She had sworn to protect Ren Jin and those he held dear.

Liang Na was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, she said, “I understand.”

Ren Jin’s gaze softened. “Good.”

Yue Ruo watched as her husband leaned back, looking more at ease now. She had no doubt he had anticipated this outcome from the beginning. He always did.

There was no reason to send their most powerful warrior. Even if Liang Na’s strength remained a secret, exposing her was a risk. Her past as a hidden dagger of the empire—if uncovered—would only paint a target on her back.

But they still had to send someone.

Yue Ruo exhaled, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. To her second son.

Ren Xun.

A boy with little talent in cultivation but a kind heart. A wastrel in the eyes of many, yet dearly loved by those who knew him. Unfortunately, such affection made him a pawn to some.

Ren Jin would not rule this city forever. Whether he died, was exiled, or ascended to the throne, Yellow Dragon City would one day need a new governor. And there were those who saw Ren Xun as a convenient piece to maneuver.

Their thinking was painfully naive. But that was the nature of power.

Yue Ruo turned to her husband. “Then send Ren Xun.”

Ren Jin frowned. “What?”

She met his gaze evenly. “Send our son to follow the Daoist.”

Ren Jin leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “Ren Xun is only at the First Realm. Do you really think that would be wise?”

Yue Ruo clasped her hands together. “It would be to our benefit.”

Ren Jin studied her carefully. “Explain.”

Yue Ruo didn’t hesitate. “If Ren Xun remains here, he will become a tool for someone’s schemes. If he travels with the Daoist, he will gain experience, broaden his horizons, and most importantly—he will be beyond their reach.”

Ren Jin still seemed unconvinced. “And what makes you think the Daoist would accept him?”

Yue Ruo smiled slightly. “We appeal to his righteous nature.”

Her husband let out a quiet sigh. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple,” she said. “You and I both know he won’t abandon a defenseless guide, no matter how much he wants to walk his own path.”

Ren Jin rubbed his temple, clearly deep in thought. Finally, he let out a tired chuckle. “You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Have I ever not?”

Ren Jin shook his head. “Very well. Let’s see if the Daoist takes the bait.”

Yue Ruo tapped a finger against the armrest of her chair, her voice calm yet deliberate. “The Daoist will take him if we make it a condition.”

Ren Jin arched a brow. “A condition?”

She nodded. “Lin Lim.”

At the mention of the name, Ren Jin’s expression darkened. “That strange beggar-woman?”

“The same one who has captured our son’s heart,” Yue Ruo confirmed. “If we tie Ren Xun’s departure to Lin Lim’s people, Da Wei would have a harder time refusing.”

Ren Jin leaned back, considering her words. “You believe he’ll accept just for her sake?”

“My spies tell me Da Wei is acquainted with her,” Yue Ruo said. “Perhaps not closely, but enough that he might see it as a reasonable request.”

Ren Jin exhaled. “Convenient.”

“Very.”

The room fell silent for a moment before Liang Na finally spoke. “What of the Great Enemy?”

Yue Ruo folded her arms. “You mean the demons?”

Ren Jin shook his head. “If only it were that simple.” He glanced at Liang Na. “Da Wei knew about them long before we did. He even calls them the ‘Great Enemy,’ as if he’s encountered them before.”

Liang Na narrowed her eyes. “And yet, we know so little.”

Yue Ruo looked at her husband. “You’re worried about what Da Wei might uncover?”

Ren Jin sighed. “I’m worried about what he might drag into this city.”

The three of them sat in silence, each lost in thought. Then, Liang Na straightened. “I’ve stayed too long.”

Ren Jin nodded, already expecting her departure. “Back to your duties, then.”

Liang Na gave a shallow bow, then turned to leave. Before stepping out, she glanced at Yue Ruo. “Whatever comes next, be ready.”

Then she was gone.

Yue Ruo walked over to where Ren Jin sat, lowering herself gracefully onto his lap. She leaned into his chest, tracing a finger along the embroidery of his robe. ”Hmmm… something just crossed my mind,” she murmured.

Ren Jin smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. ”Is it about how handsome your husband is?”

She chuckled, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. ”Flatter yourself all you like, but I was talking about the auction.”

He hummed in thought, fingers lazily running through her hair. ”What about it?”

”Who’s hosting it?”

Ren Jin exhaled through his nose. ”Old Song.”

Yue Ruo pulled back slightly, raising a brow. ”Ah, the old codger? Can’t believe he’s still alive.”

Ren Jin let out a soft laugh. ”Neither can I.”

”Last I remember, he was half-dead from drinking his weight in liquor. What’s he been up to?”

”I’ve relegated my orders to him to look out for devil worshippers,” Ren Jin said. ”His cultivation might be low, but he’s a talented spymaster. Knows how to sniff out trouble before it even thinks of knocking on our door.”

Yue Ruo tilted her head, intrigued. ”Devil worshippers, hmm? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Ren Jin sighed, pulling her closer. ”Only that things are getting more complicated. The demons aren’t just appearing in isolated incidents anymore. If there’s one thing Old Song is good at, it’s following whispers. If anything stirs in the shadows, he’ll hear about it.”

Yue Ruo rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart. ”Then I suppose we’ll have to keep our ears open as well.”

Ren Jin squeezed her hand. ”We always do.”

Yue Ruo stretched lazily, still nestled in Ren Jin’s embrace. “So, what’s the word from the sects?”

Ren Jin exhaled, his fingers drumming idly against the armrest. “Chaos, as expected. Isolation Path is in a celebratory mood for some reason.”

She raised an eyebrow. “They celebrate?”

“That’s what I said,” Ren Jin muttered. “Not exactly the type to throw banquets and drink wine, but the spies reported they’ve been… rejoicing, in their own way. Something about an ‘auspicious omen.’”

Yue Ruo frowned. “And Cloud Mist?”

“Picking fights with Isolation Path.”

“Of course they are,” she sighed. “They can’t stand the idea of Isolation Path being happy about anything.”

Ren Jin smirked. “That’s about right. They’ve been stirring trouble left and right. Apparently, one of their elders took personal offense to something Isolation Path said—though no one actually knows what was said.”

“Typical. And what of Sword Canopy?”

Ren Jin’s expression darkened slightly. “Strangely quiet.”

Yue Ruo pursed her lips. “That’s not like them.”

“No, it’s not,” Ren Jin agreed. “I have a feeling they’re still processing what happened with Long Xieren.”

Yue Ruo’s eyes sharpened. “You think bringing him back to life shook them that badly?”

Ren Jin shrugged. “It’s not surprising, really. The empire has techniques and artifacts capable of reviving the dead—it’s just that they’re rare and costly. The real shock is how casually Da Wei came to that decision.”

Yue Ruo tapped a finger against his chest. “That’s what gets me. Most people would hesitate, weigh the consequences. But he just… did it. No fear, no doubt.”

Ren Jin’s gaze turned thoughtful. “That’s what makes him dangerous, Yue Ruo. He’s not bound by the same logic we are. He doesn’t think like a sect disciple or a noble son. And that’s exactly why we need to keep an eye on him.”

Yue Ruo sighed, leaning back into his warmth. “Then let’s hope we don’t end up on the wrong side of his decisions.” Yue Ruo nestled against Ren Jin’s chest, her fingers idly tracing circles on his sleeve. His warmth, his steady heartbeat—it was rare moments like these that made all the chaos worth it. She sighed contentedly, allowing herself to forget, just for a moment, the weight of politics and schemes.

Ren Jin smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’re getting comfortable,” he murmured.

“And?” she teased, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “A wife isn’t allowed to enjoy her husband’s warmth?”

His smirk deepened. “Oh, you’re welcome to enjoy as much as you like.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I was just thinking, if we didn’t have an entire city to run, I might’ve—”

A knock resounded at the door.

The two of them flinched, immediately pulling away from each other like guilty teenagers caught sneaking around. Yue Ruo straightened her robes, schooling her expression into something more dignified. Ren Jin cleared his throat, hastily adjusting his posture.

The door swung open, and in stepped Liang Na, her face impassive as ever.

Yue Ruo narrowed her eyes. “Do you not know how to wait?”

“I knocked,” Liang Na replied flatly, stepping further into the room. Her gaze flickered between them, noting the awkward tension with the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

Ren Jin sighed. “What is it?”

Liang Na clasped her hands behind her back. “The Sect Elders of Sword Canopy and Cloud Mist are outside. They wish to speak with you.”

Ren Jin’s brow furrowed. “Together?”

“Yes.”

He exchanged a glance with Yue Ruo. That was unusual. Sword Canopy and Cloud Mist rarely agreed on anything, let alone approached together for an audience.

Ren Jin exhaled. “Fine. Send them in.”

Liang Na nodded, stepping aside. A moment later, two figures entered the office.

Long Xieren of Sword Canopy walked in first, his posture rigid, his gaze sharp. His every step exuded the discipline and controlled power of a seasoned swordsman. Behind him, Pan Xia of Cloud Mist floated into the room, his movements as fluid as the mist his sect was named after. Despite their vastly different auras, the tension between them was unmistakable.

Yue Ruo took her place beside Ren Jin, her eyes scanning the two visitors with quiet intrigue.

Ren Jin steepled his fingers. “Elders, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Long Xieren and Pan Xia stepped forward in unison, their robes billowing slightly as they moved. Then, at the exact same moment, they both spoke.

“We wish to speak with Daoist Da Wei.”

Their words overlapped, neither willing to concede to the other. Long Xieren’s voice was firm and clipped, carrying the weight of the Sword Canopy Sect’s discipline. Pan Xia’s tone was smooth yet insistent, as if he were making a polite request rather than a demand.

A brief silence followed.

Ren Jin smirked, leaning back in his seat, fingers tapping idly against the armrest. Yue Ruo shot him a glance. She knew that look. Her husband had anticipated this, and now he was savoring the moment, squeezing as many benefits as he could from the two sect elders.

“I see,” Ren Jin finally said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “Both of you? At the same time? That’s quite a coincidence.”

Long Xieren huffed, his patience already wearing thin. “Spare us the games, Prince Ren. Where is he?”

Pan Xia offered a small, knowing smile. “Indeed, there’s no need for pretense. We both have matters to discuss with Daoist Da Wei, and we suspect you already know this.”

Ren Jin chuckled, exchanging a brief glance with Yue Ruo. She didn’t need to say anything—her slight shift in posture was enough to convey her amusement.

“I must say,” Ren Jin said, clasping his hands together, “it’s fascinating how invested your sects have become in one lone cultivator. But tell me, what is it you wish to discuss?”

Long Xieren’s jaw tightened, but Pan Xia was the one who answered. “That is between us and the Daoist.”

Ren Jin let out a slow, deliberate exhale, as if contemplating their words. “Ah, but you see, Daoist Da Wei is quite… unpredictable. It would be unfortunate if he misunderstood your intentions.”

Pan Xia’s smile faltered ever so slightly. Long Xieren, meanwhile, crossed his arms, his patience nearing its end. “Name your price,” the swordsman said bluntly.

Yue Ruo nearly laughed. Ren Jin had them exactly where he wanted.