Chapter 658: Which God Dares Try?

To those in the Cui Clan, it appeared that the conversation between the clan head and King Zhao had taken an abrupt downturn. Cui Wenjing had inexplicably claimed ill health and delegated hosting the lunch to someone else. This basically

screamed

of a negotiation that had collapsed. Otherwise, such a bald breach of etiquette simply would not make sense.

Given this blatant disregard, Zhao Changhe ought to have stormed off in a fury, yet he remained, cheerfully accepting the alternative arrangement.

Because he wants to marry Yangyang, of course...

Some saw this and thought,

This man is so smitten he’s willing to forgo even the bare minimum of dignity—and perhaps even his life.

That said, Yangyang was truly stunning these days. Once a petite, delicate girl with adorable features, she had grown into a rather tall and elegant young woman, with a most graceful and shapely figure. Her facial features had matured, retaining traces of her youthful cuteness while gaining a commanding vitality that captivated anyone who saw her.

Word had it that King Zhao had an ambiguous relationship with Tang Wanzhuang, suggesting he preferred mature, sophisticated women. But then, why had he been drawn to the younger, undeveloped Yangyang in the past?

Are you really that undiscerning? As long as she’s beautiful, you’ll go for her? Well... I guess so would we, so I suppose that’s fair.

If not for the existing engagement with Zhao Changhe, the Cui Clan’s doors would have been worn down by matchmakers clamoring for Yangyang’s hand. But now, no one dared.

To most in the Cui Clan, Yangyang remained an incredibly valuable asset. Back when the marriage agreement was first proposed, Zhao Changhe had been a promising figure, potentially even the crown prince. It had been a calculated investment with little risk. But now? If tensions between the Cui Clan and Zhao Changhe were to escalate, proceeding with the marriage as originally planned would feel like squandering a prime opportunity. Instead of securing another advantageous alliance, they would simply be throwing away a valuable resource.

It doesn’t matter. As long as Zhao Changhe dies, everything will naturally return to its rightful course.

Cui Wenwei, the younger brother of Cui Wenjing, was far closer to him than Cui Wenjue had ever been. He had always been Cui Wenjing’s steadfast ally, his unwavering right-hand man. When Cui Wenjing was gravely injured and brought back to Qinghe to recover, with his children away at war in Puyang, the Cui Clan remained remarkably stable. This was thanks to Cui Wenwei, who managed the family’s affairs with the utmost dedication, protecting his elder brother’s authority and showing no sign of disloyalty or personal ambition.

This exemplified one of the key advantages aristocratic families held over ordinary sects: a genuine sense of shared prosperity and downfall. The strength of the Cui Clan was the source of power for all its members, and Cui Wenjing’s prestige was the foundation of Cui Wenwei’s security. In this time of upheaval, ensuring the survival of a clan head who was on the Ranking of Heaven was far more critical than engaging in internal power struggles. In a typical sect, internal discord would have likely scattered the ranks. Within the Cui Clan, however, it only strengthened their unity.

Even so, some in the Cui Clan felt a twinge of disappointment in Cui Wenjing’s subsequent handling of events.

The Cui Clan did not lack connections within the capital. Word from figures like Lu Jianzhang had made it clear that the new dynasty was continuing Xia Longyuan’s policies. This was hardly surprising. No imperial authority would willingly revive the old system of aristocratic checks and balances. Xia Longyuan had risked his life to dismantle the foundation of the aristocratic families’ power. Why would his successors undo that work and shackle themselves with the same constraints? The chances of a reversal were slim to none.

The Cui Clan’s choice, therefore, could not be to support this new Han dynasty. Instead, their path lay in establishing a new court dominated by the aristocracy. If necessary, Cui Wenjing himself could claim the throne. When Xia Chichi’s proclamations were sent across the land, the Cui Clan was the first to receive them. Yet they were also the first to ignore them and instead actively pursue reconciliation with the Wang Clan, with whom they had recently been at war.

On the surface, Cui Wenjing appeared to have made up his mind, balancing reconciliation with the Wang Clan while maintaining military preparedness against the capital. However, the members of the Cui Clan could see the truth: Cui Wenjing had not gone all the way. If he were truly committed to rebellion, the logical move would have been to capitalize on his proximity to the capital, exploiting the instability of the Four Idols Cult before they could fully establish themselves. He could have delayed Huangfu Shaozong’s return to the capital or even ambushed and absorbed his forces, marching on the capital himself.

By failing to take this step, he had missed the critical window of opportunity.

Cui Wenjing was not someone prone to hesitation or indecision. The only explanation for his inaction was that he did not

want

to act. This single decision made it clear that Cui Wenjing was not merely weighing options. Deep down, he was already inclined toward Zhao Changhe. While maintaining a façade of readiness for conflict, he was, in truth, waiting for Zhao Changhe to make good on his old promise and present some new promises in turn.

Many within the clan obviously asked themselves as to why Cui Wenjing had such bias toward Zhao Changhe. Was it just because of his engagement to Cui Yuanyang and the fact that Zhao Changhe had saved his life, leading to an unwarranted level of hope for this son-in-law?

Most of the Cui Clan could not understand. Cui Wenwei, in particular, found it incomprehensible. To him, this was a classic case of sentiment clouding judgment, something he never thought he would see in Cui Wenjing. A certain divine being had promised things that the new Han dynasty could never provide. There should not have been any hesitation.

Furthermore, the sheer power of the gods and demons was overwhelming. Opposing the new dynasty, rooted in the Four Idols Cult, was still within the realm of possibility. Opposing a god, however, brought a suffocating sense of inevitability. Just a glance from such an entity could make one break into a cold sweat, stripping away all will to resist.

The choice was then obvious, was it not?

If the clan head’s emotions had led to undue hesitation, then the rest of them would make the decision for him. After all, Zhao Changhe himself often used the tactic of killing envoys to sever a host’s options, and everyone had to admit that it was an effective move. Why could it not be used against him?

What they had not expected, however, was that the envoy to come would be Zhao Changhe himself.

Does he really think that he’s invincible? Pft. This makes things much simpler. One move and all the problems will be solved.

“King Zhao, your esteemed arrival is a great honor to our clan. I apologize for the lack of proper preparation. It is a grave oversight on our part. With your status, you should have sent word ahead so we could make suitable arrangements.” Cui Wenwei greeted Zhao Changhe warmly, leading him toward the banquet hall.

“I’m used to the ways of the wilderness,” Zhao Changhe replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge. “I’ve never thought of myself as a king or whatever.”

Cui Wenwei smiled and said, “Being a king... it’s not something one necessarily needs to learn. As long as you are one, you’ll figure it out.”

“What I meant was that in the future, I will renounce the title myself.”

Cui Wenwei froze mid-step, his foot halting as he entered the hall. The room fell utterly silent, the many Cui Clan members present left staring in disbelief.

Zhao Changhe chuckled. “I have no desire to rule anyone, nor do I wish to leave behind hereditary titles for my children.”

Cui Wenwei said, “Surely you’re jesting, King Zhao. You’ve fought your way to this point, braving death countless times. Was it all merely for amusement?”

“Of course not. It was to shatter this cage of a world, to ascend the nine heavens, to grasp the sun, moon, and stars, to see how vast this universe truly is.” Zhao Changhe strode to the seat of honor, casually taking his place without waiting for an invitation from the host. “If my descendants have ambitions for earthly accomplishments, that’s fine. But what I wish to leave them is not a title of nobility but a world of clarity and prosperity.”

Dozens of people in the hall were left speechless for a long time.

His words were grandiose... Yet, coming from Zhao Changhe, they felt entirely natural.

He was, after all, cut from the same cloth as Xia Longyuan, his gaze fixed beyond the confines of mortal affairs. And the latter half of his statement? That was evidently from Tang Wanzhuang’s influence.

Cui Wenwei managed a strained smile. “King Zhao, your aspirations are lofty indeed, far beyond the reach of us ordinary mortals. Allow me to offer you a toast!”

Zhao Changhe picked up the wine cup before him, weighing it thoughtfully in his hand. With a faint smile, he asked, “If I were to smash this cup to the ground, what do you suppose would happen[1]?”

Cui Wenwei forced a laugh. “Surely, King Zhao jests. What executioner could possibly take your head? That would be a futile gesture, wouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. According to the Tome of Troubled Times, I’m still merely in the second layer of the Profound Mysteries, third on the Ranking of Earth. A cultivator at the second layer of the Profound Mysteries would not survive a coordinated assault, especially with a comparable opponent leading the charge. I mean, that’s how He Lei met his end.” Zhao Changhe’s smile remained warm and serene. “Poor He Lei died too soon, but the lesson remains vivid in people’s minds.”

Cui Wenwei’s smile began to falter, his unease growing.

Why does he keep circling back to this topic?

He forced himself to reply, “Surely, a man like you cannot be judged as an ordinary cultivator at the second layer of the Profound Mysteries. Your Highness is, after all, a godslayer...”

“Indeed. I slew a god while at the second layer, though many think it was thanks to mere luck. But I wonder, if I were to reach the third layer, what would happen? Even I am curious.” Zhao Changhe raised his cup and drained it in a single motion. “Dragon Bird has been reforged, and River of Stars newly forged, and neither has tasted blood since. Which god dares try me?”

1. This line and the one about the executioner are actually references to a real-life event, the Hongmen Banquet (aka the Feast at Swan Goose Gate). The political situation behind the event is extremely complex, but the point is that pretty much everybody at the banquet had hidden motives and some of the participants were actively trying to murder the others. The name of the event is a metaphor for a gathering filled with hidden motives, betrayal, and political tension. This is also mentioned in the next chapter. ☜