Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter 117: I Am Turning Against You

The Celestial Master’s Mansion is nestled in the Daozheng Ward of Chang'an City, standing in sharp opposition to the Yingtian Mansion, which lies merely three streets away. The heads of these two institutions, Meng Qinglian and the reigning Imperial Preceptor Dong Zhongxuan, are fellow disciples, yet they share almost no common ground, their relationship akin to fire and water.

During the reign of the Former Zhao Qi dynasty, the position of Imperial Preceptor was, by unwritten rule, held concurrently by the head of the Celestial Master’s Mansion. However, nine years ago, after Bai Wan usurped the throne and changed the national title to Great Min, Meng Qinglian refused to participate in politics, retreating into the Celestial Master’s Mansion and never stepping foot outside again.

Strangely, while Bai Wan purged many remnants of the Zhao clan and political factions that did not support him, he remained indifferent and remarkably tolerant toward the existence of the Celestial Master’s Mansion and Meng Qinglian. Even when Bai Wan personally visited three times to invite him to serve as Imperial Preceptor and was refused, he showed no sign of temper. The only notable action he took was to support Dong Zhongxuan, Meng’s junior disciple, in establishing the Yingtian Mansion.

The gates of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, painted in red lacquer and carved with the mantra "The Dao Follows Nature," were kept shut. Beyond them lay a spacious courtyard, and in the center stood a massive four-legged bronze tripod from which coils of incense smoke rose, lingering and refusing to dissipate. Further back was the main hall, dedicated to the founder of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, Bian Jing, the Grand Imperial Preceptor of the Zhao Qi dynasty and the progenitor of the Celestial Master’s cultivation lineage.

In the deepest, most secluded area of the grounds lay a courtyard sealed tight with ancient, rust-covered locks. It was never cleaned, and the vegetation grew wild. A keen observer might notice that whenever birds or insects approached, the air seemed to form an invisible electric net that instantly incinerated them into ash.

At this moment, Meng Qinglian, clad in a pure white robe with his gray hair flowing loose, walked forward with his hands behind his back. With a flicker of distorted, reforming images, he appeared from outside the courtyard to inside, then pushed open the door to the innermost chamber.

The room contained no living quarters; instead, seven bright lamps were arranged on the floor in the pattern of the Big Dipper. As the flames flickered, they illuminated a golden coffin covered in intricate carvings, casting long, dark shadows and creating a chilling atmosphere.

Seeming to hear Meng Qinglian’s footsteps, the coffin emitted a low, heavy, muffled sound: "Why do I feel that the essence of three thousand six hundred virgins is no longer enough to maintain the stability of my soul? This will not do. I must seize a body and achieve manifestation as soon as possible to prolong the Earth’s Essence."

Hearing this, Meng Qinglian sighed. "To prolong the Earth’s Essence, one must steal from the Heavenly Dao. The Heavenly Dao descends to the mortal realm once every three hundred and sixty-five years. According to calculations, it should have appeared in the 610th year of the Qi Zhongzong era, yet I have searched until now with no leads. I do not know why!"

The voice in the coffin was silent for a moment before asking, "Could there be an error in the timeline?"

"Impossible!" Meng Qinglian shook his head. "I calculated it according to the calendar left by our founder. Alas, the one born of the Heavenly Dao must be in the mortal world. Furthermore, as the Earthly Dao derives its mandate from the Heavenly Dao and works with the Human Dao to balance it, the place of birth must be Chang'an, where the nation's fortune converges. It must have been affected by something and gone awry. Rest assured, I will continue to search."

"Very well!" the voice in the coffin replied, then asked, "I heard from the disciple who delivered the essence that a Seven-Colored Divine Deer has appeared in Chang'an?"

Meng Qinglian glanced at the corner of the room, where only a bloody pile of clothes remained—the disciple’s physical body having long been hollowed out. He said with a strange tone, "If we cannot find the one born of the Heavenly Dao soon, the flesh and blood of a Seven-Colored Divine Deer might temporarily preserve your soul. But there is only one such deer in all the Nine Provinces, and you consumed it centuries ago. Where would another come from?"

"That Seven-Colored Divine Deer is merely a ruse set up by those with ulterior motives to topple Bai Wan's empire."

...

At the entrance of the horse farm, Chen Chang'an, amidst the ranks of the Black-Clothed Guards, threw the documents he held back into the box labeled as "rebel organization archives" with a look of utter despair. He let out a long sigh; he knew he had been played, turned into a tool to help someone else purge their political rivals.

The paper was white, the ink fresh—it had been written only moments ago.

This move... was ruthless.

Using the death of the pharmacy clerk as a trail, they lured him to the horse farm, where they carefully planted men and fake organization documents to create a decoy den.

After the Black-Clothed Guards arrived and fought a bloody battle, thinking they had wiped out the rebels, the Left Guard Imperial Army appeared to seize the spoils. Because these documents—especially the forged member list—could have been managed if they were in the hands of Cao Wu, once they fell into others' hands, the story could be twisted however the enemy pleased before Bai Wan.

The people on that list had nothing to do with rebel forces; they were undoubtedly clean, loyal officials. Once the Left Guard presented them, a group of loyalists would be purged, and the one who "killed" them would be him.

Chen Chang'an felt an unprecedented sense of shame and humiliation. Being manipulated like this was truly insufferable. Of course, the enemy clearly intended to use this trap to take his life as well, though Dong Zhongxuan had arrived just in time.

"Ahem!"

In the midst of his despair, a flash of inspiration struck. A steady, confident smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He tucked the forged roster and the wordless book from Changning into his robes, drew his short blade, *Cangming*, and looked at his two veteran colleagues, muttering helplessly, "Sorry, this is an emergency—there’s no other way!"

As the word "way" left his lips, *Cangming* flashed, slicing across the waists of the two men. Blood sprayed as he leaped toward the roof, shouting, "I am the leader of the Dragon-Slaying Society, you bunch of blind, stupid fools!"

Ye Lin and Ruan Jingchu stared, their eyes wide: "..."

"Ah!"

The two veteran Black-Clothed Guards he had wounded collapsed, clutching their waists in shock and rage.

Everyone nearby turned to look: "..."

The four leaders of the *Xuan* rank wore identical expressions of disbelief, as if to say: *Little Chen, what on earth are you doing?*

Ye Lin stood up and shouted, "Hey! Do you know what you’re saying? Get down here!"

Chen Chang'an spat a glob of phlegm. "Get lost! Do I know you?"

Ye Lin: "..."

Suo Yong, the commander of the Left Guard Imperial Army at the gate, was stunned for a full ten seconds before he recovered, drawing his sword in a rage: "Chen Chang'an, what are you doing?"

Standing on the roof of the horse farm, Chen Chang'an postured with arrogant, infuriating confidence. "Screw your mother, can’t you see I’m rebelling? Can’t you see I am the leader of the Dragon-Slaying Society? Hmph, I’ve spent years working toward this great cause, never thinking it would end today at the hands of you scum. *Pah!*"

"I’m done pretending! It was all me!"

Yue Bingbing: "..."

Tan Shutong: "Damn, he’s got such style!"

Tao Yuan: "..."

Lu Bozhao: "This kid... he hasn't lost his mind, has he?"

Suo Yong, his face purple with rage, stomped the ground with the strength of a Sixth-Rank peak master and lunged into the air toward Chen Chang'an.

"Screw your mother, you still want to fight?"

Chen Chang'an continued to insult him, channeling the *Slayer’s Heart Technique* to send a wave of roof tiles flying at Suo Yong. Using the opening, he turned and sprinted across the rooftops, disappearing into the distance.

"Boom!" "Clatter!" "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

In mid-air, Suo Yong swatted the tiles away with his curved sword. Finding that Chen had vanished without a trace, he landed before the four *Xuan*-rank guards, shrieking, "What is going on? Why does the Black-Clothed Guard have someone like that?"

"And why didn't you stop him?"

The four were silent, their minds buzzing as if hundreds of bombs had gone off at once. They were utterly bewildered. *Did they hear right? Chen Chang'an said he was the leader of the Dragon-Slaying Society? How could that be... he was the one who found the farm!*

Suo Yong roared, "Did you hear me? Go catch that traitor!"

Yue Bingbing replied coldly, "Commander Su, until the matter is fully clarified, please do not cast baseless accusations on members of the Black-Clothed Guard."

"You..." Suo Yong was furious, but catching a subtle look from someone in the Black-Clothed Guard, he relented. "Fine, I won't pursue it now, but I will report this to His Majesty. Furthermore, turn over all the documents seized from the farm to the Left Guard Imperial Army."

"You..." Yue Bingbing was indignant, but before she could object, the others stopped her. They had no choice—he held the imperial decree. In the end, the horse farm and the box of documents were handed over to the Left Guard.

The four *Xuan*-rank leaders wore bitter expressions. "Everyone, prepare to return to Black-Clothed Alley!"

In a dense forest behind the farm, Chen Chang'an, having run over two kilometers, paused to catch his breath against an apricot tree. Once he recovered, his handsome face took on a look more bitter than eating gall. He knew that soon, there would be no place for him in Chang'an, and his family would be implicated.

But there was no choice. This was the only way to save the situation; otherwise, his mistake would lead to the execution of loyal officials, while the "Dragon-Slaying Society" would only grow more rampant. He had been used as a blade, and he had to take responsibility. This was what they called "seeking life through death."

As for whether he could survive, it depended on whether he could find the real den of the Dragon-Slaying Society and root them out.

"Sigh!"

He pulled out the forged list and the wordless book from his robes, smiling wryly: "Chen, oh Chen, you're so ruthless you're even framing yourself!"

He closed his eyes, mapping out his next plan.

That day, rumors swept through Chang'an. The story of Chen Chang'an establishing the Dragon-Slaying Society to assassinate the Emperor and seize the throne spread like wildfire, with several exaggerated versions—some even claiming he was a descendant of the Zhao Qi royal family returning to restore the old regime.

The Su family estate was sealed, and the servants, along with Su Qingtang and the others, were thrown into the imperial dungeon, awaiting execution alongside Chen Chang'an. Even the poultry were not spared. When the guards arrived, Su Dingfeng even fought the imperial troops, roaring at the "ignorant dogs and corrupt court" while decapitating three soldiers, thereby cementing the charge of treason. If not for Qin Fuluo and Su Qingtang clinging to his legs to stop him, it would have been a bloodbath.

Thus, a new rumor appeared on the streets: Su Dingfeng was the deputy leader of the Dragon-Slaying Society.

To make matters worse, shortly after Chen Chang'an fled, the Emperor's favorite noble, Zhang Youzhi, died suddenly. According to the Imperial Medical Academy, it was an intermittent sudden death caused by improper acupuncture treatment by Chen Chang'an.

Chen Chang'an was now charged with the murder of a noble, a secondary crime punishable by death.

Lu Zhongjin stood at the entrance of the pharmacy, cursing: "Hah! I knew that kid didn't know what he was doing. Medicine takes time and experience; what was he trying to prove?"

...

Night fell, the stars twinkling. Chen Chang'an rested against a thick tree trunk. Suddenly, he heard the noise of a large group approaching from the mountain below. Thousands of torches formed a sea of light as they swept the mountain.

The leader shouted, "Brothers, according to reliable intelligence, the rebel Chen Chang'an fled in this direction. Search carefully!"

"This man not only murdered Noble Zhang but established the Dragon-Slaying Society to threaten His Majesty’s throne. There is a reward of three hundred taels of silver for his capture!"

"Sir, keep your voice down. What if the traitor hears and runs away?"

Ye Lin, disguised as the leader, waved his hand dismissively: "Hah! I want him to hear it. I want to scare him to death."

At the summit, Chen Chang'an heard every word clearly. He yawned, rubbed his face to wake himself up, and muttered, "Only three hundred taels? How cheap. I was too modest when I defected!"

After talking to himself, he prepared to bury the wordless book in the forest. Suddenly, a strange thought occurred to him: if the enemy created the horse farm as a decoy to kill him and purge rivals, and all the documents were fake, why would they make the book—something obtained with such great effort—real?

There must be a third purpose besides killing him and purging the party. And that third purpose was definitely linked to Princess Changning.

Was it to find the method to reveal the text in the book?

"Sigh, the more I think, the more my head hurts. Forget it, I'll go to the Black-Clothed Guard first. Since I have a good idea of who he is, I need to see him."

With that, his figure darted into the night toward Black-Clothed Alley. During his time hiding in the forest, he had carefully deduced the identity of the "Blue-Armored Man"—the one who had ambushed him at the farm. He finally had a clear target.