Chapter 135: Ascending to the Throne

Three days later, inside a villa, Zhao Boyue successfully met with Lin Zhongqing as planned.

"President Lin, I have long heard of your esteemed name. To finally meet you today is truly a great honor for me," Zhao said.

"Enough with the pleasantries," Lin Zhongqing interrupted impatiently. "Just provide me with the ritual method for those three evil entities, and I will kill them for you right now. Ensure the payment is ready: I want spirit cores worth 2 billion. Your Chamber of Commerce manages at least five evil-spirit mines; you should have no trouble coming up with that."

"Refreshing," Zhao Boyue replied, immediately handing over a manuscript containing the sacrificial rites.

He was equally anxious to avoid complications; if the three grand masters discovered his schemes, he would be killed on the spot. He had his reasons for taking such a risk. One of them was that his fiancée, during the early days of the Chamber’s expansion, had been sacrificed to please those three entities. This hatred had festered for years. Since they had children out of wedlock—in a time over a decade after the apocalypse began—they were never formally married, and very few people knew the truth. He had endured in silence, but once he heard that someone in the north was capable of killing high-level evil spirits, he decided to act.

Lin Zhongqing had no interest in the motivations of this middle-aged man. Whether he was plotting to usurp power or seeking revenge was irrelevant to her. She was just finishing a job to collect her pay. After reviewing the ritual, she felt confident, and her figure turned ethereal as she entered the spirit realm.

Seeing this, Zhao Boyue fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. "My love, if you can see this from the afterlife, please bless us so that our great vengeance is fulfilled! Our son still thinks you were killed by an ordinary monster; he has no idea that his true enemies are the very entities he has been worshipping every day!"

He did not know that a shadow was watching from the window outside.

***

In another villa nearby, "How was that, Grandpa Sword? Did I handle things well?" Fatty Hou asked, fawning.

"Acceptable," the sword vibrated, expressing satisfaction.

"By the way," Fatty Hou seized the chance to ask, "is Zhao Boyue trying to use Lin Zhongqing as a backer to usurp power?"

The sword struck his head. "You see? Your worldview is skewed; your head is full of power plays. While there are many bad people, there are still good ones. Zhao Boyue isn't acting in secret to seize power, but to seek revenge." It then recounted what it had witnessed.

Fatty Hou wore a complex expression. He had always assumed the upright-looking Zhao Boyue was a master villain, like Wang Mang or Cao Cao—men who claimed loyalty to the Han dynasty only to eventually steal the throne. Everything had seemed to point to his suspicion, but it turned out there was a hidden motive.

"Sigh, human nature is always complex," Fatty Hou mused. "Even if he is doing this for revenge, who is to say he won't use the momentum to seize power afterward?"

"Enough. You did well today. Those three thugs will be dead soon. Get ready; you are ascending the throne tomorrow," the sword commanded.

"Grandpa, you’re being completely unrealistic," Fatty Hou retorted bitterly. "My men are all secret guards left by my father; they can’t be seen in public. I have no support. How can I ascend the throne tomorrow? It will be chaos; I should be finding a safe place to hide."

The sword was powerful and overbearing, but its temperament was like a child's—impulsive and stubborn. "With me here, why would you cower? At worst, you die. What is there to fear?"

Fatty Hou almost vomited blood. "Is death not scary?"

"It’s not me dying, so why should I be scared?" the sword replied matter-of-factly.

"I knew you'd say that," he muttered.

"Since you know, get ready. Look at you, you don't even look like a leader. Even if you change, no one will support you," the sword scolded.

Fatty Hou had no choice but to walk out and call out: "Juejue, come here! Get my dragon robe ready. I’m wearing it tomorrow to hold court and ascend the throne."

"Master, playing emperor again?" a female voice replied impatiently. "Everyone is busy celebrating the 36th Lunar New Year; who has time for your games?"

"You don't understand. Tomorrow, they will be very free."

"Fine, fine. As long as you don't cause trouble, I'll get you whatever you want."

"The phoenix crown is for you. Why not play Empress again?" he tried.

"Don't count on it. I've decided: you're grown up now. Next month, I’m telling the President I’m leaving to get married."

"Who is the jerk? We grew up together! Don't you have any attachment to me?" Fatty Hou’s heart shattered.

"I had high hopes for you once, but you’ve been so foolish that it’s impossible to worry any less. I have to find a reliable brother-in-law to support you for the rest of your life," Juejue sighed.

Fatty Hou fell silent, feeling both touched and heartbroken. That was the price.

***

The next morning, the Nanling Chamber of Commerce was in total chaos. Everyone was idle, panicked and at a loss. In a gilded ancestral hall, people were frantic. "Disaster! The incense for the three Great Masters isn't working... their plaques have shattered!"

"Inform the President immediately!"

In Hou Jinhua’s office, the scene was equally chaotic. Only Zhao Boyue remained outwardly calm, though he was deeply satisfied inside. He knew he couldn't seize power now; the Hou family still held all the important positions, and Hou Jinhua’s martial prowess was beyond him. Most importantly, his persona was one of unwavering loyalty; a sudden betrayal would only lead to everyone turning against him.

"Do not panic," Hou Jinhua said, forcing composure. "Even if the three masters are dead, we can find new backers. The Nanling Chamber is too big to fail." She was internally terrified—why hadn't the entities killed her as they died? It was impossible for them not to have suspected her, and they should have triggered the blood-line curse to take her with them.

Zhao Boyue spoke up: "President, as long as the mountains remain, there will be wood to burn. The most urgent issue is finding someone to take the blame."

"Blame? For what?" everyone asked.

"The three masters had peers. If we want new backers, how will you explain their deaths?" Zhao said coolly.

"What are you implying?" Hou Jinhua frowned.

"I mean, you should retire and cede your position to the young master. That way, you preserve yourself, and everyone has a scapegoat. If new masters come looking for the truth, they will blame the foolish young master, not you."

The crowd finally understood. It was a selfless act—turning a "useless" piece into a shield. To them, Hou Jinhua, with her power and connections, was far more valuable than the foolish young master. With her in the shadows, their interests remained protected.