High on the mountain peak, people were gazing at the Everview Mountain path.

An old man and a young woman, both dressed in fine clothes. The old man looked solemn, while a hint of confusion lingered in the woman’s eyes.

“Father, did fate really abandon this Southern King? Is that why he ended up like this?”

Ying En voiced her doubts. Something felt off. This drought had been too unnatural. In just three months, the seeds in all of Qingshan City’s lands had dried up and died. Such a drought should happen once in a hundred years.

How could it be such a coincidence?

Ying Zheng replied calmly, “Everything follows its own rules. And heaven’s will is hard to predict. If heaven decided to end him, he wouldn’t have risen again even with limitless strength.”

Ying En secretly shook her head. “But just a while ago, I clearly saw fortune favoring the Righteous Army. Then suddenly, everything changed!”

“Besides, didn’t that princess of the old Jing Era take the punishment for him?”

Hearing this, the Old Dragon King asked, “Do you believe that was her taking punishment for him?”

Ying En blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“The mistake was hers to begin with,” the Old Dragon King stated. “That was her own punishment to bear, not someone else’s. The one who should have died didn’t. That was never allowed. Furthermore, if he had lived peacefully for the rest of his life afterward, today’s ending might not have happened.”

“Think about this, En’er: what would have happened if the entire Yan bloodline had been wiped out when the Prince of Xiang slaughtered them?”

Ying En answered, “Wouldn’t it be the same?” After all, rebels would still have risen.

“No,” Ying Zheng shook his head. “He was a prince, carrying the Yan family blood. Raising the banner won the people’s hearts. Crowds answered his call. His army truly deserved the name ‘Righteous.’ But someone else would have been called a thief. As thieves, they would have failed. They would never have reached where they stand today.”

Ying En felt dazed. The Mortal World seemed so confusing, messy. Just a name made so much difference.

Ying Zheng breathed deeply. “The world’s pattern has changed…”

Ying En’s expression shifted. “Father, do you mean the great unification?”

Ying Zheng smiled. “The Mortal World does not represent the true scope of everything.”

His gaze swept into the distance, seemingly seeing a great disaster brewing.

This vast Tribulation could entangle everything within its grasp.

Not just the Mortal World, even the Cultivation World would find no escape.

Ying En didn’t understand her father’s words. She was still stuck on her earlier thought: the Righteous Army’s collapse seemed wrong somehow. Where exactly? She couldn’t pinpoint it.

It felt like a letter someone started writing at length, then abruptly ended halfway through. It shouldn’t have been like that.

What Ying En didn’t know was that Old Dragon King had lied to her about events at the Abyss River.

Her instinct wasn’t mistaken.

Every coincidence in this world leaves traces behind. It could never be explained by just one word like “heaven’s will.”

…

The Southern King surrendered. Along with his 80,000 rebels, he was escorted to Shangjing.

After nearly a month of travel,

after many years, Yan Ruchu, now a prison slave, returned to this royal city.

The city remained as bustling and splendid as in his memory. Yet at the same time, everything felt fundamentally changed.

He couldn’t help recalling the noisy sounds of the crowds on the streets when he snuck out of the palace as a boy.

Now, in the blink of an eye, he was approaching fifty. Streaks of white threaded his hair.

Just like his relationship with Shangjing City: forever changed, never to return.

Yan Ruchu was thrown into Zhao Prison.

That very night, he faced the Prince of Xiang, Zhao Zhen.

Years ago at Anshun Prefecture, Yan Ruchu had seen Zhao Zhen, clad in battle armor, standing outside the city walls. He was powerfully built then. But now, over a decade gone by, Zhao Zhen looked old and stooped. Only his eyes remained piercing and sharp—unchanged, just as they were all those years ago.

An attendant serving Zhao Zhen brought fresh food.

Yan Ruchu started eating right there as he knelt.

One full meal wasn’t bad.

He was resigned to his fate.

Zhao Zhen silently watched him eat for a long while.

Only after Yan Ruchu finished every last bite and breathed out did Zhao Zhen finally speak.

“Have you eaten enough? If not, I’ll send for more.”

“It’s enough,” Yan Ruchu replied, then asked, “What about Qingshan City?”

“I sent troops to aid them days ago,” Zhao Zhen stated. “Qingshan City is peaceful now. Strangely enough, heavy rains fell across the Southern Region just three days after you fled. The drought stopped because of that.”

Yan Ruchu let out a bitter laugh but didn’t explain anything. He only slowly shook his head.

Zhao Zhen exhaled. “You were capable. If not for this drought, you might truly have restored the Jing Era. A pity… heaven favors my Da Xiang.”

Yan Ruchu remained silent for a long time before admitting, “You’re right. Heaven’s favor isn’t with me.”

Zhao Zhen said, “Your father, Yan Xun, met me at Frontier Pass several times in battle. We were evenly matched. When he became Emperor Jing, I marched north and became the King of Beixiang. On the surface, we seemed equally powerful. But your father made too many mistakes later. He fell behind.”

Yan Ruchu offered no argument.

Zhao Zhen spoke the truth. After Yan Xun became emperor, he squandered treasure, became obsessed with beautiful concubines, then wasted years chasing Immortal Arts and immortality pills. Dark and stifling clouds smothered the Imperial Court. Nation’s strength crumbled year by year.

Yan Ruchu looked directly at Zhao Zhen and declared, “The winner claims rule. The loser is outlawed. There is no need to say more. If you only came to taunt me like this, I prefer silence.”

Zhao Zhen chuckled. “That stubbornness is identical to your father’s back then.”

Yan Ruchu’s brows snapped upward into a frown. “Zhao Zhen! I simply don’t wish to waste words on you! You judge my father? What about you?”

“You overspent recklessly when you claimed yourself King of Beixiang. You caused the northern rebellion! Even held only half of Beixiang under rebel control! What kind of king does that make you? Nothing but a laughable fool!”

“So what?” Zhao Zhen replied lazily. “Who in this world doesn’t make mistakes?”

“Northern Mang bounced and bounced like monkeys? But they all ended shattered beneath Da Xiang’s iron hooves.”

“Mistakes aren’t shameful. What’s shameful is making mistakes you can’t repair. I don’t find myself laughable. Unlike your father, Yan Xun. Mistake after mistake—until his realm broke and his home collapsed? That… is laugh worthy.”

Yan Ruchu sniffed coldly. “You, Zhao Zhen? Only a small schemer who seized cracks in the shield.”

Zhao Zhen crouched lower.

“I’ll tell you a secret.”

Yan Ruchu stared at him with chilling intensity.

Zhao Zhen stated slowly, “Did you think the drought in the Southern Region… was an accident?”

Yan Ruchu’s heart lurched violently.

“What do you mean!”

Zhao Zhen only let out a quiet, almost pitying laugh. Then he turned and walked out of Zhao Prison.

Yan Ruchu’s eyes snapped wide open, fixed on Zhao Zhen’s departing back until it disappeared.

His hands gripped the prison door bars so tightly they dug into the wood, leaving deep finger marks behind.

This Southern Region drought… was caused… by Zhao Zhen?!