Their eyes traced from the Captain back to Fang Chen who remained in the cell with the cuffs still wrapped around his wrists.
Fang Chen sighed and turned to the Lieutenant who had rushed out of the office. "It wasn't my fault. I simply acted to defend myself." He stated with a plain look.
"Who knew he would be that weak?"
Lieutenant Xiaomei's face fell as she stared at Fang For a moment and then toward Captain Lou who was now being carried away.
She turned back to Fang Chen and sighed. "Try to keep your hands to yourself or you will be in there longer than you wish."
"So long as I get to gaze upon your heavenly beauty, I see no issues," Fang Chen displayed a flirty smirk that caused Lieutenant Xiomei to take a step back.
She didn't even know what to say to this shameless man anymore. Did he think she would fold at his words just because he had divine-looking charms?
She gestured to the officers to lock the cell and clean up the surroundings.
After all was said and done, Lieutenant Xiomei gave a stern warning to her officers to stay away from Fang Chen's cell regardless of how he behaved.
They were told to ignore him.
----
Fang Chen's mind wandered far beyond the physical constraints of his cell, drifting back through the annals of time to a world that had long since vanished.
"Twenty thousand years," he murmured to himself, a hint of wistfulness coloring his tone. "So much has changed."
His thoughts traveled back to the Featherstone Continent, where he had once roamed as an immortal dao cultivator.
The memories were vivid as if they had happened yesterday. He remembered the sprawling landscapes, the towering mountains that kissed the sky, and the verdant valleys that teemed with life.
Fang Chen had walked those lands not just as a cultivator but also as a revered medicine man and teacher, his knowledge of traditional medicines unparalleled.
Being a true immortal, a lot of people were curious about his secret but he never revealed it.
In his mind's eye, he saw himself curing the sick. The ailing and the infirm usually flocked to him from far and wide.
His reputation as a healer was matched only by his notoriety for his perverted ways.
Wherever he went, he left behind a trail of cured patients and broken hearts. Women found his divine charms and devilishly handsome looks irresistible, and he, in turn, indulged in his desires without hesitation.
"Ah, the ladies," he sighed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "They couldn't resist me, and I couldn't resist them."
He recalled traveling across the continent on his treasured flying artifact, a majestic jade ship that glided through the skies with effortless grace.
How liberating it had been to soar above the clouds, free from the constraints of the earth below. Now, in this age, he had seen people relying on vehicles—cars, they were called—clunky machines that rumbled along the ground, confined to the limits of the roads.
"Cars?" he chuckled while shaking his head. "What a step backward."
He didn't know if there were still cultivators that followed the old path but since he just got here, there was more to figure out.
One thing that bugged him the most was why he suddenly got freed.
He had spread his cultivation senses far and wide across this unknown city but couldn't feel the presence of the emperor.
"Perhaps I am in the wrong place... But no matter, since I am free now I should try changing... But I must have my revenge on the emperor for the clever trick of sealing me for twenty thousand years," Fang Chen muttered.
"I didn't touch his wife out of respect for him... I only did his daughter but now, I shall sow my seed within all the females of his second-line generation," Fang Chen decided.
*****
In the heart of the modern city of Raoshen, the grand palace stood as proof of the amalgamation of ancient splendor and contemporary luxury.
The throne room, an abundant chamber adorned with gilded columns and traditional decorations filled with the hushed whispers of anticipation as a group of masked, robed cultivators entered.
Each of these figures exuded an aura of immense power, their qi swirling around them like a tangible force, causing the palace guards to stiffen with unease.
The cultivators moved with a serene grace. Their flowing robes of deep crimson and gold glinted under the ambient light of crystal chandeliers.
Their faces were hidden behind ornate masks, each depicting a mythical beast, symbolizing the ancient clans they represented.
They approached the throne, where the current emperor, Zhao Ming, sat in regal splendor.
Emperor Zhao Ming was a man in his late forties whose face bore marks of both indulgence and pride.
His robe was an elaborate garment of black silk embroidered with golden dragons, symbols of his imperial lineage.
His crown, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, glittered with precious stones that reflected the flickering torchlight. He regarded the approaching cultivators with both curiosity and disinterest. His dark eyes revealed nothing about his thoughts.
The leader of the robed cultivators, a tall figure with a mask shaped like a roaring tiger, stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Your Imperial Majesty," he began, his voice resonating with authority and reverence, "we are the Elders of the Four Ancient Clans, and we come bearing grave news that requires your immediate attention."
Emperor Zhao Ming raised an eyebrow. "Speak, Elder. What news brings you here with such urgency?"
The Elder straightened, his eyes gleaming behind the mask. "We have come to warn you of a prophecy—one that foretells the release of a great scourge, an immortal pervert whose very presence shook continents over twenty thousand years ago. This being is known as Fang Chen."
A murmur rippled through the gathered courtiers and guards. The name Fang Chen was not unknown to them, though it was often relegated to the realm of myth and legend. The emperor's expression, however, remained skeptical.
"Fang Chen?" Emperor Zhao Ming echoed a hint of amusement in his voice. "The immortal pervert? Are you suggesting that this ancient fable has some basis in reality?"
The Elder nodded solemnly. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Your great-great-great-grandfather, Emperor Zhao Yun, was the one who sealed Fang Chen away. The prophecy foretold that the seal would weaken a century after Emperor Zhao Yun's passing. We believe that time is now and that Fang Chen has been freed."
The emperor's amusement faded, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Superstitions and old wives' tales," he scoffed. "I rule a modern empire, governed by reason and law. I have no time for the fantasies of ancient texts. No cultivator can truly achieve immortality, let alone cause the upheaval you describe. Fang Chen is nothing more than a famous fairy tale."
The Elder's voice grew more insistent. "Your Majesty, this is not a matter to be dismissed lightly. Fang Chen's power and perversion are unparalleled. If he truly has been freed, he poses a threat not just to Raoshen but to the entire world. Our daughters, our wives, nieces, and even our female beasts... None are safe. We urge you to take precautionary measures—issue warnings, command his capture."
Emperor Zhao Ming leaned back on his throne, his fingers drumming against the gilded armrest. "And what would you have me do, Elder? Mobilize the imperial guard to hunt down a ghost? Disrupt the order of my city over a prophecy?"
Another of the robed cultivators, a figure with a phoenix mask, spoke up. "Your Majesty, the signs are there. We have sensed disturbances in the flow of qi, anomalies that coincide with the weakening of the seal. This is not merely conjecture."
The emperor's patience was wearing thin. He waved a dismissive hand. "Enough. I will not have my court plagued by such nonsense. I appreciate your concern, but I have more pressing matters to attend to. If Fang Chen does exist and poses a threat, we will deal with him accordingly. Until then, I will not indulge in fearmongering."
The leader of the cultivators bowed again, though the tension in his posture was palpable. "Very well, Your Majesty. We have done our duty in warning you. Should the prophecy come to pass, remember that we offered our counsel."
As the robed figures turned to leave, the atmosphere in the throne room remained tense. The courtiers whispered among themselves, casting wary glances at the departing cultivators. The guards, though still on edge, relaxed slightly as the powerful presences withdrew.
Emperor Zhao Ming watched them go, his expression inscrutable. When the last of the robed figures had exited, he turned to his chief advisor, a shrewd man named Li Wei.
"What do you make of this, Li Wei?" the emperor asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Li Wei stepped forward with a respectful demeanor. "Your Majesty, while the tales of Fang Chen are indeed ancient, there is often a kernel of truth in such legends. It may be prudent to keep a discreet watch for any unusual occurrences."
The emperor nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. Increase patrols and have our most trusted agents keep an ear to the ground. Should there be any news of such, inform me immediately."
Li Wei bowed. "As you command, Your Majesty."
As the throne room returned to its usual state of order, Emperor Zhao Ming's thoughts lingered on the warning.
He dismissed it outwardly, but the seed of doubt had been planted. The world had changed greatly since the days of his ancestors, but the shadows of the past often had a way of creeping into the present.
Outside the palace, the robed cultivators regrouped in the courtyard. The leader's tiger mask gleamed in the moonlight as he turned to his companions. "The emperor does not heed our warning. We must prepare for the worst."
The phoenix-masked cultivator nodded. "Agreed. If Fang Chen has truly been freed, we must be ready to act... Once there is any news, we will take matters into our own hands and deal with him."