My Golden Core is a Star, do you call this cultivating?

The autumn evening did not feel desolate. The yellowish sunlight lazily blanketed the land, radiating warmth rather than chill.

Liu Sheng was dressed casually, his demeanor calm and amiable, like that of a typical elderly man.

"Not bad. Your group in the Judgment Association is full of good children."

Liu Chudong, proud of her efforts, smiled with a hint of smugness. "Grandfather, I personally picked them all!"

Whether it was Chi Changle or Wang Cong, both were individuals Liu Chudong had personally invited to join the Judgment Association.

At this moment, Liu Sheng's brows twitched slightly, and he spoke in a seemingly casual tone: "What about that Qi Yuan from Ning? I haven’t seen him around."

A thoughtful look crossed Liu Sheng's face.

This Qi Yuan from Ning—his sudden and convenient appearance—was peculiar. Could he perhaps have some special connection to the rumored revival of the Divine Descent?

Hearing this, Liu Chudong seemed to remember something and muttered, "I wonder if he's back. Grandfather, let’s go check his courtyard."

A light knock on the door was answered by Chen Kangbao, who poked his head out, his expression curious.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, the young master has returned," Chen Kangbao said, munching on a steamed bun as usual.

"He’s back? My grandfather wants to see him," Liu Chudong said, already stepping forward toward the courtyard.

But Chen Kangbao extended an arm to block her way. "The young master is asleep. He specifically instructed not to let anyone disturb him."

"Asleep?" Liu Chudong’s tone carried a mix of impatience and disbelief. "Wake him up!"

Her grandfather had rarely been in such good spirits, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who wouldn’t want a chance to meet a Divine-tier Weapon Master and receive his guidance?

Chen Kangbao shook his head firmly, his expression serious. "The young master said no one is to wake him up."

His resolute gaze left no room for negotiation as he stood firmly in front of Liu Chudong.

Fuming, Liu Chudong argued, "This is an important matter, and you—"

"The young master’s sleep is the important matter," Chen Kangbao retorted bluntly.

Rendered momentarily speechless, Liu Chudong could only hold back her frustration.

Her grandfather chuckled and asked, "How long does your young master usually sleep?"

"I don’t know," Chen Kangbao replied with a shrug.

Liu Chudong looked even more exasperated.

Liu Sheng, his gaze falling briefly on the courtyard, smiled warmly. "No rush. I’m in no hurry; we’ll just wait a bit."

Liu Chudong was taken aback, her eyes filled with surprise and confusion.

Wait?

Her grandfather was willing to wait for Qi Yuan to wake up?

She couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

It wasn’t as if her grandfather was doing this for her sake. Despite being her grandfather, Liu Sheng was still a Divine-tier Weapon Master—someone even she had to treat with the utmost respect. РАƝộʙΕṤ

Her grandfather must have a deeper reason for this.

With her head lowered, lost in thought, Liu Chudong waited silently.

From dusk until late into the night, Liu Chudong and Liu Sheng remained outside the courtyard.

The door to the room stayed firmly shut, and Liu Chudong’s confusion only deepened. "Brother Qi still isn’t awake? When will he wake up?"

Chen Kangbao simply shook his head. "I don’t know."

"It’s fine. He’ll definitely wake up by tomorrow morning at the latest. Grandfather, you—" Liu Chudong looked anxiously at Liu Sheng, worried he might lose patience.

After all, having a Divine-tier Weapon Master wait outside for an entire night—even she found the situation unprecedented and absurd.

But Liu Sheng only chuckled, his expression gentle. He glanced at the closed room and said, "It’s no problem. I have nothing urgent to attend to."

Chen Kangbao chimed in, "Even if he doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning, it’s not a big deal."

"What?" Liu Chudong exclaimed in disbelief. "Is he injured? How can a normal person sleep this long?"

"Ha! The young master is like a god descended from heaven. Even if he sleeps for three thousand years, so what?" Chen Kangbao replied smugly.

Liu Chudong fell silent, convinced that Chen Kangbao was utterly delusional.

Meanwhile, Liu Sheng squinted, studying Chen Kangbao’s expression closely.

After a long moment, Liu Sheng smiled again and said, "What an amusing situation. I’ll wait here and see just how many months your young master can sleep."

The rain fell steadily over Linhai City, the soft drizzle building into a heavier downpour.

Winds swept through the streets, stirring waves in puddles and rivulets.

Inside a modest teahouse, an elderly storyteller stood at the front, his figure short and stooped. His patched clothing bore six or seven neatly sewn repairs.

He cleared his throat, preparing to continue his tale.

"Now, as the story goes, it was the sixth month when snow fell from the skies. The courtesan was bound by ropes, tied to five horses positioned to the north, south, east, west, and center.

Her crime? She had slain a prince, and for this, the punishment was to be torn apart by five horses!"

The storyteller’s voice rang out with practiced rhythm, his delivery both steady and dramatic.

"But then, on that fateful day… snow fell from the summer sky!"

The gathered crowd listened with rapt attention, expressions ranging from fascination to trepidation.

One young scholar in the corner lowered his head nervously, muttering to himself, "Is this really something we should be hearing?"

Though the tale of the courtesan who had killed the third prince was well-known, it had long since been banned by the court.

To speak of it openly, even in Dingbo Prefecture, was bold—perhaps even reckless.

"And in her moment of despair, the Divine Descent appeared! The courtesan was declared innocent, and her life spared!"

The storyteller’s voice boomed, filled with righteous fervor.

"A prince? Bah! Before the Divine Descent, even royalty must face justice like any commoner!"

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers of approval.

Suddenly, a patron leaned in toward his companion, speaking in hushed tones. "Have you heard the news? That scourge, the Blood Cloud Bandits, has been wiped out. And they say the one who did it… was the Divine Descent!"

"Hah, you must be from out of town. Everyone in Linhai City already knows about it!"

"Still," the first man persisted, "isn’t it incredible? The Divine Descent… has returned!"

"Yes," murmured an older man in worn clothing as he nursed a cup of cheap wine. "Finally… He has returned."

In the dimly lit corner of the teahouse, an old woman in simple, coarse clothing sat silently. The storyteller’s voice reached her ears, stirring something deep within. Her wrinkled face bore a look of quiet reminiscence.

"To think… a hundred and twenty years have already passed," she murmured.

Though her attire was plain, her dignified demeanor set her apart. Despite the weathered lines on her face, remnants of her youthful beauty could still be discerned from her sharp features and delicate bone structure.

"Vice Master, it has been a century since the Divine Descent disappeared. Finally, the wait is over," said the man sitting across from her. He was a lame elder, his leg twisted unnaturally—a cruel reminder of the day a noble had broken it for failing to kneel.

It was the Divine Descent who had sought justice for him, restoring not his leg but his dignity.

The elderly woman, a figure of renown in her youth, had been the central figure of the tale that now captivated the teahouse: the "Courtesan Who Slew a Prince." She was one of the two Vice Masters of the Arbiter Society.

"Indeed, it has been far too long," the woman replied, her voice heavy with emotion.

Though the Arbiter Society’s leader remained trapped in the capital, unable to move, and her fellow Vice Master had to remain behind to safeguard their base, the recent emergence of the Divine Descent’s name had prompted her to personally make the journey to Linhai City.

Her face, though lined with age, radiated hope.

"This current era… It is far removed from the days of old," the old woman said softly, her eyes reflecting the burden of her memories.

Age often led one to dwell on the past, but for her, the weight of history was a responsibility she could not shirk.

Even though the court had spent a century suppressing the legacy of the Arbiter Society and erasing all traces of the Divine Descent, the stories and faith of the people had never truly vanished.

The tales of the Divine Descent, whispered among the people, had endured, passed down in secret. Even as statues were destroyed and prayers were outlawed, many still worshiped the Divine Descent in the hope that He might one day return to bring justice to the world.

For many, He was not just a figure of history but a beacon of hope.

"The current state of the Rosha Kingdom…" The old woman shook her head as if lamenting the downfall of an empire.

The monarchy’s desperate attempts to cling to power had only further eroded its legitimacy. They were even willing to cede cities to foreign powers to preserve their rule.

Generals seeking glory and promotions had taken to beheading innocent villagers and presenting their heads as those of bandits.

And for those who journeyed through the cities, there was no need to visit a zoo to see beasts of burden—pull back a curtain in any commoner’s home, and you’d find a city full of people treated as cattle.

No, not even cattle. For in these troubled times, cows and horses were considered valuable.

"This world is broken," she said bitterly, "and yet it persists."

Even with seven Divine-tier Weapon Masters ruling as the pillars of the kingdom, thirteen of its provinces experienced over a hundred uprisings every year.

"If the people could live, if they could fill their bellies, why would they rebel?" she asked, her tone heavy with sorrow.

She closed her eyes and recited an old saying: "It’s not the starving corpse that rises. It’s the starving heart that rebels."

The last time such hope had stirred among the people, it had been because of the Divine Descent. The Divine Descent had been the justice that no one else could deliver, the blade that could strike down even a prince.

Now, after all this time, could He truly have returned?

"Where is He?" she wondered aloud, her voice trembling with both hope and fear.

In her youth, after the Divine Descent’s death, she had abandoned the arts of embroidery and poetry to become a Weapon Master and join the Arbiter Society.

Even now, she stood ready to do whatever it took to aid His return.

In just ten days, the rumors of the Divine Descent’s reappearance had spread like wildfire across Linhai City, Liuye County, and the entirety of Dingbo Province.

Everywhere, lanterns were lit, and people celebrated with fervent joy.

Open worship of the Divine Descent—once punishable by death—had returned with a boldness not seen in over a century.

What was even more telling was the response of the local government.

They did nothing.

Their silence was a tacit approval, a quiet affirmation that the Divine Descent’s return was not merely a story.

This deliberate inaction carried the unmistakable mark of the Liu family, whose influence dominated the province.

Even the most skeptical had to wonder: Was the Divine Descent truly back?

Meanwhile, in the military camp, Prince Zhenyuan was pacing back and forth, a rare sight for someone of his stature.

His usual composure, his air of unassailable confidence, was gone.

Several long moments passed before the Blood Hand’s leader entered, bowing respectfully.

"What news?" Prince Zhenyuan asked sharply.

The events surrounding the destruction of the Blood Cloud Bandits had left him restless, haunted by an unease he couldn’t shake.

"Your Highness," the Blood Hand’s leader began, "the news of the Blood Cloud Bandits’ demise and the Divine Descent’s return has spread throughout Dingbo Province. Everywhere, people are talking about it."

"And what of the officials? How have they reacted?"

"They remain silent. In fact… they seem to be encouraging the spread of the rumors."

The Prince’s eyes darkened. "Encouraging it? Why would they—" He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning on him.

The Liu family.

"That coward Liu Sheng, usually so cautious, now dares to fan these flames. Could it be…"

The Prince’s unease deepened.

"Where is Liu Sheng now?"

"Ten days ago, he traveled to Linhai City. He hasn’t left since, but his activities remain unclear."

Prince Zhenyuan clenched his fists. "That isn’t like him at all."

A chilling thought struck him. Could the Divine Descent truly have returned? And if so, was Liu Sheng in secret negotiations with Him?

If that were the case…

"I must inform the Emperor at once. I will depart for the capital immediately!" Prince Zhenyuan declared, his voice grave.

"Your Highness, if you leave, what will become of the gains you’ve made here?" the Blood Hand’s leader asked hesitantly.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

But the Prince’s tone was resolute. "What use are gains if I’m dead?"

Half a month had passed since Liu Sheng began his vigil outside Qi Yuan’s residence.

By now, Liu Chudong had pieced together the threads of the mystery.

The timing of the Divine Descent’s appearance and the destruction of the Blood Cloud Bandits was no coincidence.

Could it be?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the creak of a door opening.

A tall, slender man in white robes stepped out, his hair dampened by the light rain but still appearing effortless and elegant.

Stretching lazily, Qi Yuan glanced at the gathered crowd and said with a yawn, "Good morning."

Liu Chudong’s expression was complex. "Brother Qi…"

"Young Master!" Chen Kangbao exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy.

Liu Sheng rose to his feet, his sharp gaze fixed on Qi Yuan. After a moment, he bowed slightly. "This old man, Liu Sheng, greets you, sir."

Qi Yuan glanced at Liu Sheng, his expression calm and unbothered. He gave a small nod in response, acknowledging the elder’s presence without further comment.

Glancing up at the rainy sky, Qi Yuan remarked, "The rain’s getting heavier. Traveling in this weather… what a hassle."

"You’re leaving, Brother Qi?" Liu Chudong asked, startled.

Qi Yuan smiled faintly. "Now that I’m well-rested, it’s time to move on."

Having slept for over two weeks, Qi Yuan’s connection to the Divine Descent had deepened significantly, reaching a critical threshold.

With his newfound strength, a new plan began to form in his mind.

If he could embody the Divine Descent to the fullest, he might bring about true change.

"And where does the young master intend to go?" Liu Sheng asked politely.

"Hmm… Out of Dingbo Province, through Xianle, Cuilian, and Longgu, and then to the capital," Qi Yuan said casually.

He had charted a long and winding route, one that would take him through nearly every province of the kingdom before reaching the heart of its power.

"Such heavy rain… perfect for sleeping, but I pride myself on diligence. Rain or shine, I move forward!" Qi Yuan remarked with a grin.

Liu Sheng suddenly stepped forward. "The storm is fierce, and the roads are treacherous. Horses may panic in this weather. I was once a stable hand; allow me to guide your horse and accompany you on your journey."

Liu Chudong froze in shock.

Her grandfather, a Divine-tier Weapon Master, offering to lead Qi Yuan’s horse?

She had suspected Qi Yuan’s connection to the Divine Descent, but was it truly enough for even her grandfather to humble himself like this?

Qi Yuan glanced at Liu Sheng, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded lightly. "Very well."