The sword formation was ferocious, but with the flood dragon’s aid, Princess Himiya Akiko had already dispelled most of its power. She could handle the lingering remnants alone. However, Princess Himiya Akiko never expected that the flood dragon would be slain. Left alone, she was like a lone tree against a storm. The battle’s outcome was sealed. The flood dragon was weaker than Tamamo-no-Mae to begin with, and after fighting for so long, its strength was heavily depleted. When caught off guard by a quasi-First-Tribulation Immortal wielding a true immortal weapon, death was inevitable. Princess Himiya Akiko was not like Katsura Yoshiyuki. She had no desire to become a martyr for Fenglin. Her life was far too precious for that. More importantly, the Tenmon Sect and the royal family would only have a sliver of hope if she lived. Her survival—together with the royal family’s Great Tengu—was the sole chance for a second round of negotiations. Of course, such negotiations could never offer terms as favorable as the first one. The loss of all armies, lands, and power was certain. But at the very least, some dignity could be preserved, sparing the Fenglin royal line from total extermination. Under normal circumstances, it would be nearly impossible for Princess Himiya Akiko to escape from both the Imperial Preceptor and Zhang Qihan. But there was one exception—a divine artifact. Princess Himiya Akiko wasted no time. She resolutely drew upon the divine power of the Yasakani Magatama, splitting open a vast yin-yang rift. It was the same technique once used in the attempt to assassinate Toyotomi Hidemochi. Back then, it required the combined ritual of the Shinkan-dan from the Asahi-jingu. But now, Princess Himiya Akiko could wield it alone. As soon as the rift opened, Princess Himiya Akiko plunged into it without hesitation. The Imperial Preceptor and Zhang Qihan made no move to pursue. Fenglin was already within the Daoist control. As long as Princess Himiya Akiko remained in Fenglin, she was a caged bird, incapable of stirring up any great storm. The Imperial Preceptor merely waved his hand, claiming the Dragon Pearl from the slain flood dragon. The Yinglong Warship, which had been circling in the skies to maintain formation, slowly descended. A group of Spirit Guards disembarked and approached the Imperial Preceptor. One carefully received the Dragon Pearl from his hand and sealed it within a special container, while the others began tending to the flood dragon’s carcass. Such a dragon corpse was a vital material for constructing a new Yinglong warship, which the Daoist Order had not built in many years. The Imperial Preceptor paid no heed to such trifles. His gaze was fixed upon the direction of Mount Okami. Soon, the mountain itself began to tremble. The Ise-jingu, which had long sunken into the mountain’s depths, rose once more to the surface. Zhang Qihan and Suzuka Gozen also descended to the ground. The rightful source is novᴇlfire.net The Imperial Preceptor and Zhang Qihan were old acquaintances, so they exchanged only a brief glance without words. Yet his manner toward Suzuka Gozen was markedly courteous because she was an outsider who had contributed to their cause. She could never enter the Daoist Order’s core leadership. She was merely treated kindly as a woman. However, if it had been Zhang Yuelu or Yao Pei—women with real prospects of reaching the Daoist inner circle—they would not have been treated like such. After all, Suzuka Gozen was a mountain god who was several centuries old. She could hardly be flattered by such courtesy, yet she still chose to respond warmly to the goodwill shown by the Imperial Preceptor. Before long, Sage Qingwei and Tamamo-no-Mae also returned to Ise together. Neither the Imperial Preceptor nor Zhang Qihan was surprised at Tamamo-no-Mae’s surrender, as it had always been within the Daoist Order’s expectations. Thus, the Battle of Ise concluded with the fall of the Ise-jingu, Tamamo-no-Mae’s submission, and Princess Himiya Akiko’s escape. This marked the successful closure of the February Offensive. The significance and impact of this were immense. It meant the Fenglin campaign had entered a new stage in early March, and the outlook was overwhelmingly favorable. The victor of this chess game had been revealed midgame. What followed was merely a matter of cleaning up. They had to secure Ise and the whole of Fenglin, tie up loose ends, and strive to conclude the campaign before the Zhongyuan Festival on July 15th. That way, the Daoist army could return to Jade Capital in triumph. Moreover, by mid-year, the Imperial Preceptor would succeed the Earthly Preceptor as the next Great Sage Lunzhi. The Earthly Preceptor hoped the war would not drag on too long. Ideally, troops could begin returning to Jade Capital by June, allowing him to make promotions and appointments within his term, rather than leaving everything to the Imperial Preceptor’s tenure with all its uncertainties. Of course, if the war went poorly and dragged on for a year or more into the Heavenly Preceptor’s term, or even the next Earthly Preceptor’s term, that would be a spectacle. If so, the Zhengyi Sect and the Quanzhen Sect would never spare Sage Qingwei and would certainly seize the chance to punish him harshly. The Imperial Preceptor was equally courteous toward Tamamo-no-Mae. For one who had spent a lifetime navigating the Daoist hierarchy, such habits were as natural to him as breathing, etched into his very bones. There was not the slightest trace of pretension in his demeanor. The Imperial Preceptor said, “There are no specific duties for Daoist Priest Kindreds, so we do not weigh seniority or merit. Instead, a Daoist Priest Kindred status is determined by one’s cultivation. Should great merit be achieved, titles such as Sage or Great Sage may be conferred. This was the decree laid down by the Holy Xuan. Suzuka Gozen, you were given a second-rank Taiyi Daoist Priest Kindred. As for you, Tamamo-no-Mae, you ought to be granted a first-rank Tianzhen Daoist Priest Kindred. But since our Grand Master’s seat remains vacant, no one has the authority to confer this title. So for now, you must accept the lesser title of a second-rank Daoist Priest Kindred.” Tamamo-no-Mae replied, “I understand the Daoist Order’s difficulties, and I have no objections.” Though Tamamo-no-Mae had lived for centuries and could be called an “antique,” she was not a hermit cut off from the world. She had long wandered among mortals, witnessing, feeling, and enduring the ever-shifting tides of human affairs. Thus, she did not speak in archaic tones. Instead, she followed contemporary speech. The same was true for Suzuka Gozen. One’s environment always left a profound impact on people, subtly reshaping them over time. Just a few years ago, Qi Xuansu still spoke in street slang. Now, after a few years, he had learned to speak diplomatically. At this moment, Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu were making their way down the mountain path. The Spirit Guards passed them one after another. Recognizing the couple, they stepped aside respectfully to let them pass. Li Changge and Yao Pei were busy raising the Ise-jingu back up and purging its inner and outer areas, yet none of this had much to do with Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu. The couple walked slowly along the fractured mountain road. Not far ahead lay the colossal sword scar left by the Imperial Preceptor, with countless scattered traces of sword qi disordering the ground around it. Even amidst the battlefield, their mood remained rather light. It did not weigh their hearts down as one might expect. As the Imperial Preceptor Li Changgeng said before, “The blood of the enemy serves well as a battle adornment.” Some would consider love or relationships a luxury, which was not entirely wrong. Some stubbornly believed that there was an equal exchange between men and women—whatever one wished to gain, one must pay for in kind. Everyone’s view was shaped by their unique life experiences. Those who had known poverty cling to material things with desperate insistence. Those who had seen wealth strove by every means to seize and keep it. There was a saying that poor couples knew a hundred sorrows. For the sake of survival, feelings became bargaining chips. To many, speaking of love was like burning money for kindling—an extravagant waste. In that sense, love was indeed a luxury. Only wealthy households could raise people unversed in the ways of the world, retaining a childlike innocence. For the poor, all children matured early. Once burdened with responsibility, there was only harsh reality and no innocence left to speak of. Qi Xuansu and Zhang Yuelu lacked nothing materially, so they did not need to trade their feelings for gain. Rather, what they truly sought—the exalted Grand Master seat—could never be bartered with morality, ethics, or love, no matter what they gave up. Thus, they could set aside worldly realities and calculations of profit and loss. They could simply enjoy an unadulterated bond, a pure affection that might even reach a beautiful conclusion. In this sense, their love was indeed the most extravagant of luxuries. It was their great fortune that life had not burdened them with impossible dilemmas or cruel trials of the heart. That in itself was an immense mercy. Qi Xuansu had clawed his way up from the very bottom and knew this truth deeply. He was always stingy with his true feelings, since such feelings were too extravagant to give lightly. By his count, there were only ever two people—Madam Qi and Zhang Yuelu—whom he cherished dearly. As they walked, the two chatted idly. Qi Xuansu brought up the matter of Jiang Ye and Song Yu. He had nothing to feel guilty about, but to guard against others sowing discord, he chose to tell her first, lest any hidden resentment or suspicion linger. Zhang Yuelu trusted Qi Xuansu, but that did not mean she was some unfeeling saint. After hearing this, Zhang Yuelu sighed. “No matter how loudly the Daoist Order cries for equality, the halls of power today are still dominated by men. For a woman to make her way in, she must be exceptional. If she lacks that, she has to rely on a man. I have seen this happen often. Some even say a man’s success depends on who he drinks with, while a woman’s success depends on who she sleeps with. Such corrupt notions are filth and mire for the Daoist Order.” Zhang Yuelu had every right to speak . Her meteoric rise was due to her capabilities, willingness to fight desperately, and her family background. Whether it was major cases or open battlefields, she had taken part and charged at the forefront, surviving many brushes with death. That was how she earned her present standing, forcing the Daoist Order to acknowledge her with actual merit. So how could those women who climbed the societal ladder by trading their bodies compare? She had every reason to look down on such women. Zhang Yuelu paused slightly before continuing, “When I was at Beichen Hall, I handled a few such cases. Every time a corrupt, high-ranking Daoist was arrested, a number of female Daoists were implicated. These women were fascinating. If you pressed them hard, they displayed unimaginable defiance and unyielding spirit. Yet they were also fickle. Once they submitted and accepted their fate, they became so abjectly humble it was hard to believe they were the same person.” At this, Zhang Yuelu turned her gaze to Qi Xuansu. “Do you think those two women are submissive to you and Li Changge?” Qi Xuansu waved his hand dismissively. “I have no interest in making women submit. Since the arena of power is dominated by men, I would much rather have the men submit to me.” Zhang Yuelu chuckled and asked teasingly, “So this is what a true man should be like, huh?” Qi Xuansu replied solemnly, “This is how a true man should be!”