With a noble spirit and unyielding integrity, defying the frost with elegance, the chrysanthemum is truly beloved by the people of the Central Plains. Chrysanthemums are not rare, and Danzhou, where Fan Xian once resided, is particularly famous for them. Dan chrysanthemum tea is a well-known product of Qing, and in recent years, the Fan residence in Kyoto has annually procured a large quantity for the Old Ancestor.

Because of this, Fan Xian was quite familiar with this flower. He often thought of that small yellow flower blooming timidly on the cliffside of the Danzhou seaside. He knew that while chrysanthemums are cold-resistant, as the poet Yuan Zhen so brazenly declared in his previous life that no other flower blooms after it, it is ultimately not the winter plum. In this cold, late autumn weather, it should have withered into mud long ago.

The carriage passed through layers of extremely strict defenses at the foot of the mountain. Under the watchful eyes of the Imperial Guards and the Forbidden Army, the young members of the Fan family alighted from the carriage and walked up the mountain path alongside Autumn Stream for a long time. As they rounded a waterfall, whose flow was far less abundant than in spring and summer, they suddenly saw a temple built in the Qing Temple style before them, perched on a cliff face carved like an axe.

The Hanging Temple was built against the mountain, stacked layer upon layer with wooden pillars. The widest part was no more than ten feet, making it look like a thin sticker, casually pasted on the flat cliff face. The autumn wind in the mountains was fierce, whistling past and causing onlookers to feel a chill. They couldn't help but worry if the wind would blow down and carry away the paper-thin temple. Legend has it that this was the earliest temple in Qing, built brick by brick and wood by wood by ascetic monks who believed in the temple, taking hundreds of years to complete. The purpose was to promote the supreme light of the temple and encourage the world to be virtuous.

The temple has always been mysterious and never interfered in worldly affairs, but it seems to have been secretly influencing the rise and fall of the continent for thousands of years. In many rumors that have disappeared into the river of history, the shadow of the temple can be vaguely seen. In addition, although the number of ascetic monks is small, they have always been upright and highly loved by the people, so the temple still holds a very high position in the hearts of the common people.

The royal families, as rulers, maintained considerable respect for the temple, which did not affect them but still possessed a certain mysterious influence. This kind of superficial effort is what politicians are best at doing, and what they are most willing to do.

Therefore, the Qing royal family's chrysanthemum appreciation gathering, held once every three years, is set at the Hanging Temple, which has become a tradition. The chrysanthemum appreciation gathering is, to a greater extent, to reconcile the conflicts of interest between the royal family members, deepen mutual understanding, and thus avoid a situation of mutual destruction. At least, it should prevent the terrible situation of several decades ago, when two princes were assassinated at the same time, and Qing could not find a successor to the throne for a time.

The Qing royal family is not very prosperous now, so the chrysanthemum appreciation gathering also invites some relatives by marriage and even the closest families of the royal family to participate. According to the practice in recent years, the Qin and Ye families, the two pillars of the military, are naturally among them. The Qin family has considerable strength in the military, and the Ye family has been stationed in Kyoto for many years. Moreover, the only Grandmaster of Qing openly appears in the family, so their status is somewhat detached.

In addition, there are several families of old dukes who were enfeoffed at the founding of the country, as well as several newly promoted families, such as the Ren family, who married a remote princess. As for the Fan family being able to be among them, it is not because of the Fan family's current power. The power of a minister's family is not highly regarded by the royal family, nor is it because Fan Xian married Wan'er, thus having a secret relative relationship with the royal family—but because the old ancestor of the Fan family personally raised His Majesty and Prince Jing, these two brothers. Their intimacy is unknown to outsiders. Judging solely by personal relationship, the Fan family is the closest family to the royal family.

Fan Xian stood panting with his hands on his hips under the Hanging Temple, looking at the Qing dignitaries standing in twos and threes in all directions. He couldn't help but grumble in a low voice: "Chrysanthemum appreciation, chrysanthemum appreciation, but where are the chrysanthemums?"

Minister Fan had already been invited to a sheltered spot. The older generation always has some privileges. The carriage stopped at the foot of the mountain, and all the guards were left outside the defense range of the Forbidden Army. So the Fan family visitors were only left with the iron triangle combination of one man and two women. Lin Wan'er, one of the triangle, smiled and pointed down the mountain, saying, "They're over there."

Fan Xian was stunned. He took a step to the edge of the cliff. A nasty autumn wind blew in his face, making him narrow his eyes. Then he took a breath and praised, "What a beautiful place."

The cliff where the Hanging Temple stands is slightly recessed, like a U shape. The mountain road goes along the side, so when he came up, Fan Xian didn't notice anything unusual in the mountain field beside the road. Now, standing high up and looking down, the view is extremely wide. He found that this mountain field was full of chrysanthemums. The color of these chrysanthemums is much darker than ordinary varieties, with a golden hue, and the shape of the petals is somewhat slender.

"Golden chrysanthemums, indeed in line with the royal style." Fan Xian stood on the edge of the cliff, looking at the mountain filled with star-like flowers, and exclaimed, "In such cold weather, they still bloom so fiercely. It's truly a miraculous sight."

Lin Wan'er explained: "They are Golden Thread Chrysanthemums. It is said that after the Hanging Temple was completed, Master Gen Chen of the Northern Wei Heavenly One Sect personally transplanted them here, and since then it has been a major spectacle of Kyoto."

"Gen Chen?" Fan Xian sighed leisurely, "Could it be the Great-Grandmaster of Grandmaster Ku He?"

"That's right."

Fan Xian shook his head and continued to look down the mountain. After looking at them a few more times, he realized that the alien chrysanthemums were not growing very luxuriantly. The soil in the mountains is not fertile, so chrysanthemums often grow several feet apart. However, the distance between the flower viewers and the mountain field has been maximized at this time, so a visual illusion is formed, making people feel that the scattered golden flowers have occupied every corner of the mountain field. Coupled with the mountain color in late autumn, it looks particularly magnificent. The delicate flowers spread out a magnificent momentum.

People were already coming up to say hello. However, due to His Majesty's recent indifference to Fan Xian, and Wan'er's status not allowing those young noble sons to talk to Fan Xian about too many topics that young people should talk about, they separated after a brief greeting. While smiling gently and talking to everyone, Fan Xian began to relax and felt a little bored. Subconsciously, he began to observe the surrounding environment according to his professional habits.

The Hanging Temple hangs alone in the mountains. Behind it is a cliff. There is only one road up the mountain. Today, the Qing royal family is gathering here. The foot of the mountain is already full of Forbidden Army, heavily guarded. The inner circle is carefully guarded by the Imperial Guards led by Gong Dian. As for those low-browed and obedient eunuchs, no one knows if there are any disciples of Hong Gonggong among them. However, Fan Xian did not see the Tiger Guards, which was slightly strange. But with the current deployment, it can be said that it is watertight. Not to mention assassins, even if a mosquito wants to fly up the mountain, it will have a very headache.

He smiled and greeted Ren Shaoan, watching the other party being dragged away a little embarrassed. He also smiled in his heart. His father-in-law has resigned from the position of Prime Minister for a long time, and the original connections are finally fading away. Looking upwards, Fan Xian couldn't help but narrow his eyes. The most powerful people in Qing were now in this wooden temple. From afar, he seemed to be able to see a figure in bright yellow clothes on the top floor, watching the scenery while leaning on the railing. That person was naturally His Majesty the Emperor.

Looking up, Fan Xian had some inexplicable emotions in his heart. His mind suddenly turned, and he imagined a scene very amusingly—if the people of Northern Qi or the masters of Dongyi City burned this Hanging Temple at this time, what would the world suddenly become like? Of course, he also knew that Kyoto was heavily guarded today, and this kind of thing was impossible to happen. But he still imagined presumptuously, if he wanted to climb this temple, which foothold should he choose, and what kind of route should he choose, so that he could reach the top floor in the shortest time.

This was really just a professional habit.

An eunuch walked out of the temple in a hurry. The young nobles on the open space in front of the temple quickly made way. The eunuch walked to the three members of the Fan family and said respectfully in a low voice, "His Majesty summons Miss Wan'er to appear before him."

Lin Wan'er was slightly stunned. She glanced at Fan Xian and asked softly, "Eunuch Dai, is it just me alone?"

Eunuch Dai was an old acquaintance of Fan Xian. He also knew what kind of discussion it would bring if Fan Xian was not summoned into the temple in the eyes of the public. He secretly gave Fan Xian a look of guilt and said calmly, "His Majesty has no other decree."

Fan Xian laughed and said to Wan'er, "Then go." After a pause, he said with a light smile, "Uncle always loves his niece the most. I know that."

Watching Wan'er disappear into the dark door of the Hanging Temple, Fan Xian narrowed his eyes and said nothing. He led his sister to another corner, preparing to see the scenery that might be unique there. Unexpectedly, someone refused to let him relax. A slightly uneasy voice rang out: "Master."

Looking back, it was indeed that girl Ye Ling'er. Seeing the other party's uneasy face, Fan Xian knew why. Next year, Ye Ling'er will marry the Second Prince. And the seemingly bickering struggle between himself and the Second Prince was actually bloody and violent. Since the other party was Ye Zhong's daughter, how could she not know the real reason behind it.

He looked at Ye Ling'er with a gentle smile and said, "What are you thinking about? Are you blaming me for bullying your future husband too much?"

Seeing his calm expression, Ye Ling'er regained her usual frankness. She smiled and spat, saying, "I was still worried that you wouldn't want to talk to me."

Ruo Ruo laughed aside: "What are you talking about?"

Ye Ling'er sighed and said, "I don't know where the Second Prince is... It's really a bit unusual to be missing him at the mahjong table in the future." In the back garden of the Fan residence, mahjong sessions are often held in the past two years. The four people at the table are the sisters Fan Ruoruo and Fan Sizhe, and the other two are Lin Wan'er and Ye Ling'er, a pair of close friends.

"Isn't it you and Ruoruo who give Fan Sizhe and Wan'er money?" Fan Xian said with a smile, "Now that the game is over, you can lose less. You should be happy."

As they were talking, Qin Heng walked over from afar. Before he got close, he was already shouting, "What are you hiding here and talking about?" Listening to his loud voice, he probably wanted everyone to hear clearly. Fan Xian said with a wry smile, "We are talking about mahjong."

Qin Heng became interested and patted Fan Xian on the shoulder, saying, "I'm good at this." He glanced around and frowned slightly, "The chrysanthemum appreciation meeting... was originally an opportunity for His Majesty to bring these young people from big families closer, but why is it so deserted around you?" With Fan Xian's current power, even if those people felt inferior in status, they should at least come and curry favor with him. It shouldn't be so deserted.

Fan Xian's face was calm. He replied, "Today I realized that chrysanthemums can only be appreciated from a distance, not played with up close... You know my temperament. I'm impatient to say anything to these people... As for making friends." He laughed, "I really have no interest in it."

In his opinion, the so-called chrysanthemum appreciation meeting was just a social occasion similar to a cocktail party in his previous life. It was also a bit like a tea party, using it to show off the closeness between each other and the royal family and to establish their status. But for Fan Xian, he didn't bother to use the authority of the imperial power to declare his existence, so he found it really boring.

Qin Heng was thirty years old and already had a wife at home. However, people from the Qin family must come and see the yellow flowers once every three years. He had seen it countless times and was already tired of it. Hearing Fan Xian say this, he couldn't help but nod.

Today, the Second Prince and the Prince Jing were not granted special permission to leave the mansion and were still under house arrest, so they did not come to the Hanging Temple.

"Master, the scenery here is beautiful. Write a poem." Ye Ling'er blinked her clear and bright eyes.

Every time Fan Xian saw this girl's jewel-like shining eyes, he always felt dazzled. Subconsciously, he narrowed his eyes and replied, "I have already said that I will no longer write poetry."

Ye Ling'er calling him master could still be regarded as a little girl's playfulness, and this interesting thing had already spread in Kyoto. But Fan Xian actually calling himself master so bluntly seemed a bit ridiculous. Qin Heng and Fan Ruoruo couldn't help but laugh.

Qin Heng joked, "The little song that Lord Fan wrote in Northern Qi has already become popular all over the world. How could you hide it from us?"

Fan Xian felt a headache. He casually threw out a poem to suit the occasion and shook his head, saying, "Don't spread it outside. I hate writing poetry the most now."

Fan Ruoruo was looking down and savoring the two lines "It's not that I particularly love chrysanthemums among the flowers, but that there will be no flowers left after this flower blooms." Suddenly hearing her brother sigh, she couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

"Because, being chased on the ass and asked to write poetry, is, the most painful thing, in the world."

Fan Xian said it word by word, and then laughed heartily in the bewildered eyes of the three of them. His laughter was so happy, so private, and so senseless.

The dignitaries who were gathered in front of the Hanging Temple drinking tea, reciting poetry, and chatting casually, suddenly heard this burst of laughter. They turned their gazes in astonishment and saw the four young men on the edge of the cliff. They quickly recognized the identities of these four people, and couldn't help but feel a slight tremor in their hearts. Lord Fan's reputation is known throughout the world. Everyone knows that he has already overthrown the Second Prince, but now he is standing with the younger generation of the Qin and Ye families. Could this represent something else?

Fan Xian wouldn't care about other people's gazes. He just suddenly twitched his nose slightly and smelled a hint of a burning smell. He wondered if today's main course was ham? He turned his head and saw a wisp of black smoke rising from a corner of the Hanging Temple, which was extremely difficult to notice.

Among the people present, he was naturally the most sensitive, but no one else noticed anything unusual. Even the Imperial Guards who were guarding everywhere did not react.

And those people were still looking at the four young men standing against the wind on the edge of the cliff, feeling countless emotions and envy in their hearts.

……

……

As the autumn wind passed, the wisp of black smoke seemed to have been teased. It suddenly became furious and strong. Flames suddenly appeared in the black smoke, and Fan Xian's body had already rushed towards the Hanging Temple with extreme speed with this gust of wind.

"Qin Heng, protect these two girls."

As soon as he finished speaking, he had already arrived in front of the temple. Looking at the flames that suddenly spurted out, feeling the heat coming towards him, he slapped away an Imperial Guard who was swinging his sword at him wildly and scolded, "Are you blind?"

The fire surged up. Because the Hanging Temple was a wooden structure, the fire spread extremely quickly. The young dignitaries who participated in the chrysanthemum appreciation gathering screamed and fled in all directions. It was a chaotic mess. Although the autumn was dry, this fire came too strangely. And Gong Dian, the commander of the Forbidden Army, was currently on the highest floor, so the guards below were inevitably panicked.

Fan Xian shouted at the guards and eunuchs, "Where is the prepared sand and stone?"

After he spoke, these people woke up a little and recognized Fan Xian's identity. They began to follow his command and proceeded in an orderly manner step by step. First, they invited out the elderly ministers on the first floor of the temple. Then, they urgently sent guards upstairs to protect the Emperor and deliver the message. At the same time, they sent out a dozen experts to carefully set up defenses around the temple.

The reaction was quick, and the actions were clean and swift. Although the dignitaries were panicked, the guards and eunuchs still mustered the courage to put out the fire. Before long, they suppressed the flames downstairs. The old men, including Minister Fan, took the opportunity to retreat from the first floor. But the stairs of the Hanging Temple were very narrow, and the messenger was slow. The people on the top floor could not evacuate for a while.

Seeing that his father was safe, Fan Xian felt a little relieved, but he was still scared. He didn't expect his previous fantasy to become a reality. If this fire really spread, the emperor who was enjoying the scenery on the top floor... would probably die.

Someone must have set the fire. He didn't know how the other party could hide their identity and enter the temple with such strict security. But the means of setting the fire were too poor, and he had discovered it.

Things were definitely not that simple. In the chaotic temple, Fan Xian forcibly maintained his composure and analyzed the matter, but he still had no clue. But thinking that Wan'er was still on the top floor at this time, his mood was slightly disturbed. It was difficult for him to calm down, and a sense of foreboding arose in his heart. But he didn't dare to climb the stairs rashly at this time, for fear of being used by someone with ulterior motives.

"Fan Xian, go up and protect His Majesty!" Minister Fan walked up to him and said coldly.

"Yes." Fan Xian had already intended to do this. He didn't have time to study the somewhat elusive look in his father's eyes. He led two guards with high martial arts skills and went to the top floor of the Hanging Temple. But he refused to take the stairs. Instead, he pushed off the ground with both feet, and his whole body turned into a black shadow, stepping on the extremely narrow eaves of the Hanging Temple, climbing to the top floor like an extremely flexible ghost.