Infinite Professions from a Pearl Collector
Chapter 38 - 36: Supreme Sovereign? More Like Putting a Price on Your Own Head

Chapter 38: Chapter 36: Supreme Sovereign? More Like Putting a Price on Your Own Head

Using the old eunuch’s face as a disguise, Chen Ye moved through the Imperial City unimpeded.

Along the way, any Palace Maid or eunuch who saw him would steer clear, bowing their heads and not even daring to breathe too loudly.

The old bastard’s authority in the palace was just that fearsome.

Soon, the towering silhouette of Yangxin Hall appeared before him.

The hall was brightly lit, casting a brilliant yellow glow upon the paper-paned windows.

Chen Ye ascended the steps. When the two Little Eunuchs guarding the hall saw him, they were so frightened they hastily bowed and retreated to the side.

"Grand... Grand Ancestor!"

Without even glancing at them, Chen Ye gave a cold snort and pushed the doors open, striding inside.

The moment the doors swung open, a thick stench of alcohol mixed with the scent of expensive incense washed over him.

On the low table beside the Throne, a jade pot lay toppled, its wine pooling and spilling over.

Yang Zhao was slumped in his chair, his face flushed with drink. His eyes were glazed over, his face was pale and bloated, and he possessed none of the Emperor’s august presence.

Hearing the commotion, he dazedly lifted his head. Seeing it was the old eunuch—the one Chen Ye was impersonating—he actually gave a foolish chuckle and beckoned to him.

"Perfect timing! Quick, come have a drink with me!"

As the situation in the realm deteriorated, Yang Zhao had lost faith in everyone. The only person he still held a sliver of twisted trust for was this old eunuch, whose formidable Martial Arts had repeatedly repelled Assassins and kept him safe.

Looking at this Emperor, his soul utterly hollowed out by fear, Chen Ye felt not a single ripple of emotion.

The collapse of Great Zhao was, to some extent, inevitable. Yet as its Monarch, not only did Yang Zhao make no attempt to turn the tide, he instead turned his butcher’s knife on his most innocent subjects.

For the decree to gather a thousand young maidens for Alchemy alone, he deserved to die ten thousand times over.

"All of you, withdraw." Chen Ye turned and waved a hand at the other Palace Maids and eunuchs standing in attendance.

As if granted a grand pardon, they all scrambled to exit, not daring to linger for even a moment.

Soon, only Chen Ye and Yang Zhao remained in the vast Yangxin Hall.

Chen Ye walked forward, his face devoid of expression. He sat on a brocade stool opposite Yang Zhao, impassively observing the dead man walking’s every move.

Yang Zhao seemed to be completely drunk, oblivious to these details.

He even grabbed another flagon himself and, swaying unsteadily, filled the jade cup before Chen Ye. His face was flushed with a morbid, fanatical excitement.

"Heh heh... Guess what Immortal Master Xuanji told me?"

"He said... in two more days, just two more days, everything will be ready. Then he’ll fire up the furnace and begin the Alchemy for me!"

Yang Zhao’s voice grew louder, an unnatural flush spreading across his gaunt face. "Once that Immortal Pill is complete, I’ll be able to live forever! I... I will be the first true Immortal Emperor in all of history! Then, those pathetic barbarians on the grassland... I’ll be able to wipe them out with a flick of my finger!"

He grew more and more agitated as he spoke, eventually starting to gesticulate wildly.

Chen Ye watched him quietly, as if looking at a pathetic clown.

After a moment, he lifted his cup, a sneer gracing his lips.

"Then I must congratulate Your Majesty in advance."

The voice was clear and crisp, with the unique magnetic quality of a young man.

This was definitely not the old eunuch’s voice!

The crazed laughter on Yang Zhao’s face froze. He froze, his cloudy, drunken eyes filled with confusion as he stared intently at the "old eunuch" before him.

"You..."

He had just managed to utter a single word.

A hand seized his throat.

The terrifying force of the grip instantly cut off his words and his breath.

"Ghk... GHKK..."

Yang Zhao’s face instantly turned a deathly shade of purple. He thrashed his arms and legs in terror, but the hand around his neck was like an iron clamp, unmoving.

Gripping him by the neck, Chen Ye dragged him like a dead dog into the bedchamber behind Yangxin Hall.

This was where the Emperor rested when he grew tired of his duties. To ensure his sleep was undisturbed, the room was not only soundproofed but also carpeted with a thick, plush rug.

Chen Ye looked at Yang Zhao, whose face was now a ghastly blue and who was trembling like a leaf. A flicker of amusement crossed Chen Ye’s eyes.

"Don’t panic, Your Majesty. Dizziness is normal. It will all be over soon."

As he finished speaking, a cold light flashed. A small Flying Saber had already sliced across Yang Zhao’s throat.

SQUELCH.

A jet of blood shot out. The warm fluid splattered onto the carpet and was instantly absorbed by the thick pile, leaving only a rapidly darkening stain.

All strength instantly drained from Yang Zhao’s body. He collapsed to the floor, his eyes filled with terror and incomprehension.

’He couldn’t understand.’

’Even if this was an assassination, shouldn’t the killer at least list my crimes so I can die knowing why?’

’This man... why did this man strike without a single word?’

As if sensing the question in his eyes, Chen Ye smiled and crouched down. "Find it hard to believe?" he asked in a calm voice. "Wondering why your death is so... unceremonious?"

"Let me be honest. In my eyes, a so-called Emperor, a ’Supreme Sovereign,’ is no different from a pig or a dog at the market, waiting to be butchered."

"You’re all just marked for death."

After hearing this, the light in Yang Zhao’s eyes began to fade.

He felt his body growing cold, his consciousness sinking into an endless darkness.

And just as his last wisp of consciousness was about to fade, he witnessed the most incredible sight of his life.

The muscles and bones on the old eunuch’s face began to shift and writhe unnaturally.

In the space of a few short breaths, the face settled into its final form.

It had become a face he knew all too well.

Yang Zhao’s eyes flew wide. A strange gurgling sound rattled in his throat, as if he was trying to speak but couldn’t form a single word.

Chen Ye looked down at Yang Zhao and gave a slight smile. "Go peacefully."

"You can leave what comes next to Us."

Yang Zhao shuddered, and the last light in his eyes faded as he breathed his last.

Chen Ye changed into a set of robes, straightened his appearance, and strode out of the bedchamber.

He returned to the main hall of Yangxin Hall and sat upon the Throne. After a moment of savoring the chair’s unique feel, he spoke in a deep, majestic voice, identical to Yang Zhao’s.

"Attendants."

The Little Eunuch outside scrambled in and prostrated himself on the floor.

"Summon Immortal Master Xuanji for an audience."

"At once!"

At that moment, Master Xuanji was in his chambers, drinking and carousing. Yang Zhao had bestowed upon him dozens of beautiful Palace Maids in one go, not to mention countless other rewards.

As a result, Master Xuanji had been spending his nights in debauchery, enjoying himself to the fullest.

When he received the summons, Master Xuanji was taken aback for a moment, then climbed out of bed with some annoyance.

"Where is His Majesty now?"

"To answer the Immortal Master, His Majesty is in Yangxin Hall."

Master Xuanji had no suspicions, assuming Yang Zhao simply had something to discuss with him. He just grumbled a few words and pinched the cheek of the Palace Maid in his bed.

"Be a good girl and wait in bed for this Daoist Master to return!"

"When I get back, this Daoist Master will go another three hundred rounds with you."