After the system set its sights on the dragon throne, the princess started courting death every day.

"I don't acknowledge this brother." Xiang An remained completely unmoved; she couldn't accept this perverted brother in the slightest. "Aren't Taoists supposed to be compassionate? Why are you so impatient now?"

"Let me say it again, the old Taoist is a Taoist priest, not a Buddhist monk."

Master Xuanqing remained expressionless. "If His Majesty hadn't wanted to know, do you think this old Daoist would have? It's all because of you that this old Daoist has been forced to meddle in such trivial matters."

"It's all because you had a big mouth and said it out loud, otherwise who would have known!" Xiang An roared.

If she could hit someone, she would want to beat this Taoist priest a hundred times over.

Master Xuanqing gave an awkward smile and said coyly, "I regret it now, but what's done is done, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"You're locked up in this prison and don't know what's going on outside. His Majesty is now resorting to any means to cultivate immortality. If we continue like this, the Yuan Kingdom will be in chaos sooner or later!"

Even as a prince, Xiang Xin was arrogant and domineering. Now that he is the emperor, with no one to restrain him, his temper has only grown stronger.

From the initial gathering of alchemists from all sides to refine elixirs, a mere month later, they began recruiting talented individuals from neighboring countries. There were even several instances of spies sneaking into the capital. Even a Taoist priest like Master Xuanqing, who was unfamiliar with politics, had heard about this, which shows just how serious the matter had become.

In the history of Xiang An, once an emperor became obsessed with the pursuit of immortality and elixirs, he was not far from death, nor was he far from the destruction of his country and the ruin of his family.

"I never expected you to have such a strong sense of national responsibility."

He looked on with a look of amazement, as if it were the first time Xiang An had discovered this.

"What are you talking about! I'm not some wicked, evil person. I'm just an old man who loves cultivating Taoism. As a native of this country, if I don't help my own family, am I supposed to help them? Do you think I'll destroy my own family by cultivating Taoism?"

Master Xuanqing was so angry that he blew his beard and glared, abandoning the "old Taoist" he used to say. His messy beard made him look like a Santa Claus with a blown-up beard, which was strangely comical.

Looking back at the quiet, unconscious Fu Qingbai, Xiang An pondered for a moment and made a decision: "How about this, as long as you revive him, I can allow you to cast a spell on me."

Master Xuanqing looked at her with a strange expression in his eyes. Xiang An looked back at him without asking him anything. Sure enough, after a while, he couldn't help but say, "I've been performing rituals outside these past few days. Didn't you feel anything?"

"No." Xiang An crossed his arms and leaned lazily against the wooden pillar of the cell, his smug face practically screaming, "If you want to know the reason, save Fu Qing's innocence."

"Fine!" Master Xuanqing was forced into a corner.

The group of imperial physicians brewing medicine not far away exchanged glances. Although they could not hear what Miankang was saying and were too far away to know the specifics of the matter, they guessed from the occasional loud words spoken by Daoist Xuanqing that it concerned the emperor.

As Master Xuanqing left, some people put down their work, while others sped up their work, unwilling to give up on the treatment. Xiang An observed their every move but did not say anything more.

After a while, Master Xuanqing came in with a large number of guards and carried Fu Qingbai out.

When the long-awaited sunlight shone on him again, and all he could see was a vast expanse of white snow, his depressed mood suddenly lifted, and Xiang An even had a real sense of being reborn: "People really do need to see the light to know that they are not dead yet."

The winter sun offered no warmth, and my intangible body felt neither hot nor cold, yet Xiang An felt incredibly warm and comfortable all over.

The place where he recuperated wasn't very nice; the small, empty room contained only a bed.

Thick snow piled up inside the courtyard, and a dozen or so armed guards stood watch inside and outside the courtyard. This most remote corner of the palace became the most mysterious and most watched place in the entire capital.

At midnight, the first batch of assassins arrived with knives. After a series of clanging swords, the assassins fell in the courtyard, and half of the guards died. Xiang An sat on the steps, expressionless, watching the second, third, and countless other batches of assassins arrive.

The courtyard was piled high with corpses, the red snow stinging the eyes. If you closed your eyes, the smell alone made you feel like you were in a slaughterhouse.

The "pig slaughter" in the dark night finally ended. The guards collected the bodies and cleaned the place. The courtyard was restored to its original state. New guards replaced the dead guards. Everything was over. However, Xiang An sat on the steps until dawn.

The imperial physicians entered in twos and threes, each with a face full of fear, pushing and shoving each other as they trembled as they entered the room.

"It seems they also know what happened last night," Xiang An muttered as he followed the imperial physicians into the room.

Come to think of it, with such a commotion last night, it was impossible to keep it a secret from so many eyes hiding in the palace.

"Hopefully they found something last night," Xiang An prayed in her heart, but she was not sure. The secret guards searching now were all left behind by the late emperor, so they were certainly capable. What worried her was that Xiang Xin would not take it seriously.

Fu Qingbai is still unconscious, but his high fever has subsided. The imperial physician predicts that he will wake up in the next day or the day after.

In the afternoon, Master Xuanqing entered the courtyard with large and small bags of ritual implements, claiming that he needed to prepare in advance.

The next morning, Fu Qingbai slowly woke up, his dark eyes quickly and warily surveying the unfamiliar surroundings before finally settling on the ritual implements piled up by Master Xuanqing in the corner.

“You haven’t seen many of these before, have you?” Xiang An sat on the edge of the bed, swinging her toes. “I was shocked yesterday too. It was the first time I’d ever heard of using so many. I thought—wait, what are you doing?”

Having just awakened, Fu Qingbai dragged his heavy steps to the magical artifacts and then stomped on them one by one, crushing them all.

"Are you crazy?"

Xiang An stared wide-eyed in disbelief. Yesterday, the dead Taoist priest treasured them so much that he had made more than a dozen trips back and forth, spending two hours to bring them over. He said that even money couldn't buy them.

Many of these items were supposedly his family heirlooms. Now that the dead Taoist priest's treasures have been destroyed, the dead Taoist priest will be furious tomorrow.

"You've got some nerve, acting like a mad donkey. Aren't you afraid the Taoist priest will fight you to the death? If he gets angry and doesn't treat you this time, I won't care. You brought this on yourself," Xiang An raged.

You can't stop someone who's determined to court death.

Watching helplessly as one magical artifact after another turned into a pile of junk, Xiang An paced back and forth anxiously, pulling out four strands of hair.

The instigator himself remained extremely calm, even glancing at the innocent lanterns illuminating the room several times, leading Xiang An to suspect that if he weren't currently imprisoned, he might have done more than just destroy the magical artifacts; he might have even set them on fire.