Chapter 0314: Xie Chengze’s Life Nears Its End, A Renewed Secret Chamber

Fifteen years later.

“Cough, cough-cough—”

Upon the bed, the beautiful man whose waist-length black hair had turned into a waterfall of white strands, though now bearing some wrinkles, still retained his immortal-like elegance. His slender, delicate frame trembled like a fragile willow in the wind as he leaned over the edge of the bed, coughing violently until a striking streak of blood appeared on his handkerchief.

“Your Highness!” The now middle-aged Zhu Xiaobiao panicked at the sight of the glaring blood. “I’ll fetch the imperial physician!”

“Xiaobiao, it’s alright. There’s no need.” Xie Chengze tucked away the handkerchief and gently patted his chest to catch his breath. “The time has come. Even the imperial physician would be useless.”

Three years ago, he had begun to sense his impending end, as if something constantly reminded him it was time to go. It was only by Shen Yuan’s nightly companionship and his own relinquishment of many Imperial Academy projects that he had managed to prolong his life these three years.

But the cost was his deteriorating health, as if all his vitality had been drained away, with various ailments of old age following one after another.

Fortunately, his appearance showed little of this; he still looked younger and more beautiful than his peers. One might say his body now resembled a desiccated corpse cloaked in a beautiful facade—his fate already spent.

“Summon His Majesty,” he instructed.

“…Yes.” Zhu Xiaobiao concealed the sorrow in his eyes and swiftly hurried toward the Imperial Study.

“Wuhen, Wuji, come here.”

Xie Chengze glanced at the ceiling beams, where two figures lightly descended. Perhaps because martial artists aged slower than ordinary people, the inherently heroic Wuhen and handsome Wuji still appeared only in their thirties, their imposing presence undiminished from years past.

“Your Highness…” Wuji rushed forward to tightly grasp his hand, her eyes already reddening. “Your Highness, please don’t leave us behind…”

Wuhen silently placed his hand over theirs, his dark eye covering slightly dampening.

“Good children, I am merely returning to where I originally belong,” Xie Chengze said, ruffling their hair. “It’s a good place. Don’t worry about me—I’m wealthy and can live very comfortably there.”

Though, I will often think of you.

“Can’t Your Highness take us with you?” Wuji pleaded, tears as large as beans streaming down her cheeks and falling into Xie Chengze’s palm, seeping into the broken lines of his lifeline.

“It is my inability.” Xie Chengze covered his mouth with a few coughs, then drew two books from beneath his pillow.

He solemnly placed them into Wuhen and Wuji’s hands.

“This is the treasure I leave for the future rulers of Jian’an. Those with insight will surely decipher its truths and lead Jian’an toward greater prosperity and strength.”

“However, this thing has both benefits and drawbacks…” Xie Chengze’s eyes grew cautious. “Therefore, no ruler may open this book for enlightenment unless they have reigned for at least twenty years.”

He had compiled five thousand years of the Flower Clan’s historical experiences and lessons into these volumes, along with descriptions of potential wealth resources across various regions—his final gift to Jian’an.

“I cannot entrust these books to anyone else,” he said, his gaze shifting earnestly between Wuhen and Wuji. “I have instructed the Directorate of Celestial Observation to establish a new position—’Guardians of the Treasure Tomes,’ with two appointees: you two. Hide these books where only you know, then cultivate a trustworthy next generation of Guardians. In time… entrust the supervision to them.”

Wuhen lowered his gaze, removing the dark gauze before his eyes—the whites were already tinged with bloodshot streaks. “How could Wuji and I possibly be the best custodians for this book? Your Highness is clearly afraid we’ll follow you in death once you’re gone!”

That was precisely why he entrusted the book to them—so they would nurture a trustworthy next generation. With bonds to others, they wouldn’t recklessly seek death!

Xie Chengze gently wiped away the moisture at the corner of Wuhen’s eye, his brows curved in a soft smile. “Mm, our Wuhen is still so clever.”

“Second Brother!”

Just as Xie Chengze finished speaking, Xie Jinyu rushed in. The man in dragon robes still carried the imposing aura of one who once ruled the world, though his eyes now held more tenderness and steadiness, the harsh edges long faded.

Over twenty years of day and night companionship had soothed the restless gloom festering in his heart.

Seeing Xie Chengze suppressing coughs, Xie Jinyu’s heart ached as he stepped forward and drew him into an embrace. “Did you skip another dose of medicine in secret? Second Brother is always like this!”

“Don’t wrongfully accuse me,” Xie Chengze thought to himself—he’d actually skipped two doses. Then, grasping Xie Jinyu’s hand, he said, “Take Second Brother to the Directorate of Celestial Observation.”

Xie Jinyu lowered his gaze, concealing the flicker in his eyes.

“Why go to the Directorate now, Second Brother? Shouldn’t we wait for the imperial physician…”

“Jinyu.” Xie Chengze looked up at him, repeating the question he’d asked many times over the years. “Do you know what’s inside the Directorate of Celestial Observation?”

Xie Jinyu stiffened slightly, burying his face in the crook of his brother’s neck.

They both knew the answer well, yet since Jinyu remained silent, Second Brother never pressed further.

“Yes,” Xie Jinyu replied this time. “I know the Heavenly Decree states that the more good deeds Second Brother performs, the shorter his lifespan becomes.”

“But you never stopped me completely.” Xie Chengze stroked his hair, gazing tenderly at this younger brother. “Thank you.”

Xie Jinyu’s lips trembled slightly.

He didn’t deserve that gratitude—because… he had concealed so much.

He had only answered half the truth.

The other half… if Second Brother knew, he would never forgive him.

But it didn’t matter.

As long as… the world reset once more.

He was willing to be trapped for eternity within this opulent cage—where Second Brother existed—

——

Pushing open the hidden chamber’s door again, the interior was utterly transformed.

It was now filled with a modern person’s mischievous whimsy: glass lanterns in seven colors hung above the Heavenly Decree, casting shimmering rainbow hues that made the ancient text appear less like a timeworn relic and more like a true celestial scripture blessed by heavenly light.

The room was packed with bookshelves, and red satin ribbons with large floral decorations were tied to the beams. On the altar, a “pseudo-perpetual motion” wooden fish toy tapped away on its own, its surface engraved with four small golden characters: “Merit +1.”

Cough, cough— Xie Chengze couldn’t help but let out a few soft coughs. Xie Jinyu hurriedly wrapped the fur-lined cloak tighter around him. “Someone, fetch more warming pans.”

Xie Chengze’s body could no longer endure internal energy for warmth, relying solely on heating pans. Clutching the small warmer in his embrace, he walked toward the Heavenly Decree.

“Old heavenly book, I’ve come again.”

As if greeting an old friend, he sat on the wooden chair beside the altar and reached out to touch the Heavenly Decree, only to be lightly flicked by the delicate threads.

Xie Chengze couldn’t help but pout, “Why are you getting more reserved with age? Won’t even let me touch you?”

Heavenly Decree: …

Seeing this, Xie Jinyu slightly furrowed his brow and reached out to stroke the two faint red marks on the back of Xie Chengze’s hand. He glared discontentedly at the Heavenly Decree, channeling his internal energy into sharp qi directed at the thin thread. “A mere tattered book dares to harm him?”

The thin thread swiftly retracted into the heavenly book.

“Don’t provoke it,” Xie Chengze leaned forward, gazing at the Heavenly Decree. “Second Brother still needs it to get things done.”