chapter 229: Putting on a Show—Absolutely Peak
Nan Xun said seriously, “If, as you say, something that shouldn’t exist in this world suddenly appears and draws the attention of the Heavenly Dao—then I spent a full ten years setting up a Spirit-Gathering Array in the last world. Do you really think that wouldn’t have caught the Heavenly Dao’s eye?”
Little Eight burst into teary sobs. “I don’t believe it!”
Nan Xun comforted it. “It’s fine, it’s fine—don’t be scared. I’ve already figured it out: as long as we don’t affect the main storyline of this world, the Heavenly Dao won’t bother with small fry like us. And don’t you always say your Void Beast clan are Heaven’s favorites? The Heavenly Dao treats you like its child—your dad. How could it bear to wipe you out?”
That made Little Eight feel much better. Still, it couldn’t quite believe that the Heavenly Dao might have discovered them long ago and simply turned a blind eye.
But thinking it through, Little Eight understood. It hadn’t done anything bad. The Heavenly Dao only wants each world to remain in balance. If a villain with a malice value of 100 appears, it arranges for a chosen one to eliminate them. Here, that boss’s malice was secretly reduced by another group, achieving balance by a different route. Different process, same outcome—so the Heavenly Dao naturally didn’t care.
“Nan Xun,” Little Eight asked with a hint of anticipation, “if I stood on the same side as the chosen one, who would the Heavenly Dao choose?”
Nan Xun immediately indulged it. “Of course it’d choose you. You already snatched part of the chosen one’s merit, and your Heavenly Dao daddy didn’t punish you at all.”
Little Eight was overjoyed. The very next second, it conjured Nan Xun into a set of coarse linen clothes.
Nan Xun: “……”
Weren’t there supposed to be Heavenly Mountain Snow-Silkworm robes and Phoenix Feather gowns? Fine—coarse linen it is, but patched coarse linen?!
Little Eight explained, “You’re still a little beggar right now. You can’t break character too hard.”
Nan Xun tidied herself up and looked at her reflection by a small river.
Sure enough—a beauty in the making. She was only thirteen and not fully grown yet, but once she matured, who knew what kind of soul-stealing beauty she’d become.
“Little Eight, don’t you think these eyes are naturally seductive? Look—upturned corners. One glare and it’s like flirting.”
“Heh heh. Why do you think I picked this little beggar?”
Little Eight was downright smug. “In the original timeline, Li Yunduo later became the top courtesan of Zuiyue Pavillion, the number-one brothel in the Southern Yun capital. Later—cough—she was taken by the Seventh Prince of Eastern Lin to gather intelligence on Southern Yun. In the end, the big boss poisoned her with a gu, subjecting her to the agony of ten thousand insects gnawing at her heart. Unable to endure it, she stabbed herself to death.”
Nan Xun: “……”
That was miserable.
Lesson learned: don’t take porcelain work without diamond tools—or you’ll die horribly. Not everyone has the capital to go up against a final boss.
After changing clothes and washing up, Nan Xun finally managed to enter the imperial city.
She was in, but her first problem was food. She was so small and thin that no inn would hire her to carry trays.
Little Eight immediately offered a suggestion. “You could go to a brothel to serve tea and water. You’re a beauty seedling—the madam would take you.”
Nan Xun rolled her eyes skyward. “So she can fatten me up and butcher me later?”
While fretting about how to make a living, Nan Xun also observed the streets of Southern Yun.
She hadn’t seen the other three kingdoms, so she couldn’t compare, but Southern Yun’s streets were bustling and prosperous—shops packed closely together, crowds surging.
Her curious, wide-eyed gawking clearly marked her as an outsider, but the locals were long used to it.
“Little girl, are you from out of town?” asked an aunt selling pellet drums, her face kind and gentle.
Nan Xun glanced over. The woman looked around forty, with honest features.
“Auntie, I came from the countryside of Northern Wu to seek relatives. I heard Southern Yun is prosperous—seeing it today, it truly is. I don’t know the local customs yet, and I don’t want to offend anyone. Could you explain a bit?”
Seeing how cute and pretty Nan Xun was—and how pleasing her words were—the aunt smiled and beckoned her closer.
Nan Xun stepped up, shook a pellet drum, dong dong dong—quite fun.
The aunt chuckled. “Child, the capital isn’t like the countryside back in Northern Wu. There are rules, but don’t be too nervous. With our Grand Preceptor here, people don’t steal lost items and don’t lock doors at night. You won’t see bullies snatching girls off the streets.”
Nan Xun looked full of admiration. “The Grand Preceptor is amazing.”
The aunt beamed with pride and grew even friendlier. “You’ve come at a good time. They say it’s today—the Grand Preceptor will go on a procession. You’ll get to see his palanquin! Look at the inns on both sides—every private room upstairs was booked in advance just to catch a glimpse of his elegance.”
Nan Xun looked around and indeed saw every teahouse and inn packed to the brim.
The aunt reminded her, “Remember, child—when the Grand Preceptor’s palanquin passes, you must welcome it devoutly. Do not look up. To profane the Grand Preceptor would bring a terrible end—a curse from the gods.”
Nan Xun nodded repeatedly, thinking the people of Southern Yun had been thoroughly brainwashed.
She’d thought the Grand Preceptor spread tales of ‘divine power’ and ‘immortal arts,’ but instead, everyone openly knew he practiced witchcraft and gu arts—and not only weren’t they afraid, they revered him for it.
It was said that someone once offended the Grand Preceptor, and later the entire family met a bad end. The people applauded, seeing nothing wrong with it.
In the eyes of Southern Yun’s citizens, offending the Grand Preceptor meant you deserved to die.
“Wooo—”
A long blast of a horn suddenly sounded from afar. The crowd’s faces changed instantly—even the chatty aunt stiffened.
Everyone bowed in unison, heads lowered deeply, reverent to the extreme.
In the blink of an eye, the surroundings fell silent as a grave. Only the quickened breathing of the excited crowd could be heard.
Nan Xun hurried into the crowd, and using her small size, peeked through the gap between two people ahead, openly watching the street.
From the distance, four lines of palace guards with sabers marched along the outer edges, heads high, advancing toward them—the procession stretching long.
Inside, a dozen or twenty young men encircled an eight-bearer grand palanquin at the center. Some held gu vessels, eyes straight ahead; others carried long-leaf grasses, flicking water from bottles to sprinkle the surroundings.
Nan Xun: “……”
This level of posturing… was absolutely peak.
