I Am the Fated Villain Chapter 1268:

1629. As the troubled eldest prince, with a childhood sweetheart by his side

Many dignitaries and high-profile guests had already departed the celebration before its conclusion. Among those who left early were Gu Changge and the Saintess of Xiyuan. Chu Wushang, however, remained within the great hall to attend to those who stayed, determined to avoid any potential disapproval. As the firstborn prince of the Immortal Chu Haotu, he was the presumed heir to the throne, destined to rule the realm provided no disasters occurred.

Consequently, he felt compelled to maintain a perfect reputation and could not permit any loss of dignity before his peers. On this night, he had consumed more alcohol than at any other point during his lengthy years of Cultivation. His intoxication was so severe that he required physical assistance just to walk. In truth, he found no joy in drinking; he detested the flavor of spirits and loathed the loss of control that accompanied drunkenness. Such a state made it impossible to regulate his speech, actions, or emotions in a manner befitting his royal status.

Nevertheless, he had indulged far beyond his limits tonight.

“I lack the natural Cultivation talent of my second sister, and I am denied the liberty enjoyed by my younger brothers. My life is consumed by endless administrative duties, forcing me to meticulously curate my image and weigh every syllable for fear of shaming the royal lineage. Yet, my father remains in his prime. Being the eldest prince... perhaps it would be better if I did not hold this rank at all...”

Leaning on several younger princes, Chu Wushang exited the hall. For reasons he couldn't grasp, his mind was flooded with intrusive thoughts this evening, and a look of deep weariness settled upon his features.

Beyond the Great Hall, the scenery remained grand and luminous, with the glow of artifacts sparkling and the stars flowing overhead like a celestial stream. Countless palace maids were occupied with clearing the remnants of the feast. Feeling the cool night air begin to clear his clouded mind, Chu Wushang gestured for his brothers to release him and depart.

“You should all attend to your own responsibilities. Father’s birthday feast was plagued by too many disruptions today. The officials require reassurance. If the hearts of the people falter, our Immortal Chu Haotu will find itself on the edge of ruin.”

His voice remained steady and commanding, despite the underlying exhaustion.

Following the establishment of the Immortal Chu Haotu, Chu Gucheng had taken numerous concubines. These younger princes were the offspring of those unions, and they did not possess the same status or favor as legitimate children like Chu Wushang and Chu Xinyue.

“Understood, Big Brother,” the younger princes replied with deep respect before quickly taking their leave.

Chu Wushang let out a soft sigh, opting to walk toward his palace without the aid of servants or attendants. Though the distance was significant, he craved a moment of solitude to organize his scattered thoughts.

Excessive drinking often led to errors, and ideas that should have remained buried were now taking root in his mind like invasive weeds. He feared that a stray comment might be intercepted by his brothers; if such words reached the wrong ears, the consequences would be severe.

He maintained a slow pace on the long path back to his private chambers. For a man in his position, this brief span of quiet was a rare luxury—a fleeting moment where he truly belonged to himself.

The sky was a canvas of brilliant stars, devoid of clouds. Moonlight bathed the landscape, casting a shimmering silver glow over the lake. Cultivators and various beings traversed the wide avenues, while the surrounding pavilions and palaces were draped in a mystical fog, resembling a true immortal realm. Even a brief look revealed the immense prosperity of the capital.

Yet, surveying this magnificent vista brought Chu Wushang no sense of pride or ambition. Perhaps influenced by the wine, suppressed memories began to surge forward like a breaking dam. The history he had desperately tried to bury was now resurfacing, shattering his internal peace.

“Qinglan...”

As he whispered the name, a vivid image of a beautiful woman materialized in his mind. Her every expression—her laughter, her pouting, her joy—played out before him like a scroll, dragging him back to the memories of a bygone era.

“I suspected something was bothering you. You are lost in your own world, yet you dismissed all your attendants,” a voice, seasoned by age, suddenly spoke from behind him.

Chu Wushang stiffened, momentarily startled. Turning around, he found an elderly man with a hunched back but vibrant Qi. The man, sporting a white beard and hair, watched him with a knowing smile.

“Uncle Fu...” Chu Wushang offered a weak smile. “How did you get so close without a sound? You nearly gave me a fright.”

Uncle Fu let out a small laugh. “You were so preoccupied that I’ve been standing here for quite some time without you noticing. Were you dwelling on the past again tonight?”

Chu Wushang realized he must have been deeply distracted; otherwise, regardless of Uncle Fu’s Cultivation level, he should have sensed someone approaching so closely.

“Uncle Fu, what brings you out here?” Chu Wushang asked, forcing a smile while avoiding the previous question.

He possessed a profound respect for this Elder, who had been a constant presence throughout his life. To Chu Wushang, Chu Xinyue, and their siblings, Uncle Fu was a revered figure, almost a grandfather. In their youth, they would often huddle around him to hear tales of their father, Chu Gucheng’s, early exploits.

“I have been present since the start of the monarch’s feast, though I was not seated at the primary table. You were likely too occupied to spot me,” Uncle Fu explained, his face wrinkling like a flower in bloom, radiating a warm, fatherly energy.

Hearing this, Chu Wushang felt a pang of guilt. He was well aware of the rumors following the death of his younger brother, Chu Xiao. People whispered that Uncle Fu had acted out of cowardice, abandoning Chu Xiao to save his own life. Consequently, Chu Gucheng had distanced himself from the Elder, shifting his trust and responsibilities to Bai Mei Xing Jun instead.

The fact that Uncle Fu had been excluded from the head table at the banquet was a stark reminder of this fall from grace. Had the Elder not mentioned it, Chu Wushang wouldn’t have even realized he was there.

“I will speak with Father. Please do not let those baseless rumors trouble you, Uncle Fu. I am certain Father is merely trying to manage public perception...” Chu Wushang said, attempting to justify his father’s coldness.

In his heart, he refused to believe the slander against Uncle Fu. The Elder’s devotion to the Chu family was absolute. He assumed Chu Gucheng knew this as well but was forced to distance himself for the sake of political caution.

Uncle Fu laughed heartily at the sentiment. “Rumors? I pay them no mind. I am an old man now, and many of these grand affairs are beyond my fading strength. Even if the monarch gave me heavy burdens, I would likely fail him. Besides, the Immortal Chu Haotu is navigating a storm right now. Only the most capable should hold the reins. If the monarch favored me over talent, it would only hinder the Sect’s progress.”

Chu Wushang sighed, moved by the fact that Uncle Fu still placed the welfare of the Immortal Chu Haotu and Chu Gucheng above his own pride.

If such a steadfast Elder were truly marginalized and disheartened, it would be a devastating blow to the morale of the entire Immortal Chu Haotu.

“I could see the distress on your face tonight, and the scent of wine is heavy on you. You even spoke Qinglan’s name just now... It appears you are still haunted by the past, still harboring a seed of resentment...” Uncle Fu walked closer and sat beside Chu Wushang, his tone filled with genuine concern.

Chu Wushang felt a wave of internal bitterness. He preferred not to discuss the topic, yet he knew that avoiding it only allowed it to fester into an inner demon. Just as it had tonight, the past would inevitably claw its way back to the surface. It was a memory he could not outrun.

Years had passed, and the woman named Qinglan had long since moved on, becoming a wife and mother. Yet, the circumstances remained a painful knot in his soul.

“Do not harbor bitterness toward your father. At that time, he was forced to prioritize the grand design and the stability of the Immortal Chu Haotu,” Uncle Fu advised gently.

“I understand. I have never held it against him,” Chu Wushang replied, turning his gaze away and shaking his head slightly.

Uncle Fu gave a helpless chuckle. “You remain as stubborn as ever. I have watched you grow from a child; I know your heart better than most. Even when you speak to me with the familiarity of a grandson, I view all of you as my own kin. I see the pain and the sense of betrayal you carry. You have spent years trying to mask it, but the wound is still there. You resent your father for separating you from Qinglan. Back then, your bond was so evident that everyone assumed she would be the future crown princess...”

Uncle Fu paused, letting out a sigh heavy with nostalgia.

Chu Wushang sat in stunned silence as grief washed over him again. His refusal to marry all these years was rooted entirely in that loss.

But what did it matter now? His father had given Qinglan’s hand to the Marquis of Champion, and she was now another man's wife.

The father he idolized had essentially stolen the woman he loved and given her away.

He, Qinglan, and the Marquis of Champion had been inseparable as children.

The Marquis of Champion, born Du Heng, had been orphaned at a young age. Chu Gucheng had brought him into the fold, renamed him Chu Heng, and raised him with great care. Chu Heng possessed a terrifying talent for Cultivation, often whispered to share the same heaven-defying destiny as Chu Gucheng himself.

Chu Gucheng had even publicly speculated that, given time, Chu Heng’s potential might eclipse his own.

Qinglan, the daughter of the Grand Tutor of Immortal Chu Haotu, had always been closest to Chu Wushang. They were the definition of childhood sweethearts, growing and practicing their Cultivation side by side.

When Chu Heng first arrived, Chu Wushang had welcomed him with open arms, treating him like a true brother despite his status as the eldest prince.

Chu Heng had been a person of integrity who respected Chu Wushang deeply, never showing any signs of ambition toward the throne. He had seemed destined to be Chu Wushang’s most loyal general.

That era had been the most peaceful and happy time of Chu Wushang’s life.

The shift began when it became clear that Chu Heng had developed a deep, silent affection for Qinglan.

Qinglan was slightly older than Chu Heng and was celebrated as the "Goddess" of the capital. She was graceful, intelligent, and kind-hearted. She had often looked after Chu Heng like an older sister.

Had it not been for her obvious bond with Chu Wushang, the Grand Tutor’s home would have been swamped with suitors.

Sensing the tension in their dynamic, Chu Heng eventually chose to leave the capital, joining the military at the borders to forge his own path.

It was during his time at the frontier that legendary tales of Chu Heng’s exploits began to reach the capital, stunning the people of Immortal Chu Haotu. He emerged as a young god of war, leading his troops to total victory. His enemies either fled or surrendered; none could stand against him.

Under his command, the armies of Immortal Chu Haotu became a symbol of invincibility. He consistently defeated superior forces, becoming the most brilliant talent of his generation. In contrast, Chu Wushang, who remained in the capital focusing on his Cultivation, began to look ordinary by comparison.

Even with Chu Heng away, his shadow loomed over the capital. Chu Wushang noticed that whenever news of Chu Heng’s victories arrived, Qinglan’s eyes would dance with a light of genuine happiness for him.

Jealousy began to take root in Chu Wushang’s heart. Chu Heng had eclipsed him in status, fame, and power. Even his closest companion seemed to view the young general with newfound admiration.

Driven to prove himself, Chu Wushang left the capital to seek his own glory through wandering and rigorous training. He braved the dangers of Wuyou Valley, scaled Jiuling Mountain, explored Wanhe Cliff, and entered the Dead Void Cave. His power grew steadily, and he hoped this would finally allow him to stand above Chu Heng.

However, the next reports of Chu Heng were even more staggering. The young general had crushed numerous rival clans and, in a legendary feat, led a small unit of fewer than a thousand riders into the heart of enemy territory to capture a clan leader.

His prestige was unmatched; every minister and general sang his praises. Chu Wushang was devastated. He had made great strides, but compared to Chu Heng, he felt as though he were standing still. The distance between them felt like a cruel decree of fate.

In a state of despair, Chu Wushang wandered into a forbidden zone spanning hundreds of miles, where he accidentally fell into an ancient Time Cave.

The Time Cave was a place where the laws of chronology were fractured. One moment might be the present, the next a million years in the past or future. Thanks to a protective jade talisman given to him by Chu Gucheng, Chu Wushang survived within that temporal anomaly for an indeterminate period. It could have been days; it could have been decades.

When he finally emerged from the cave, his Cultivation had skyrocketed to the very threshold of the Dao realm.

Filled with joy, he immediately entered secluded meditation to complete his breakthrough. But upon his return to the Immortal Chu Haotu as a powerhouse, he was greeted with the news: Chu Gucheng had betrothed Qinglan to Chu Heng.

The revelation was a crushing blow that left him spiraling in disbelief.

In his absence, Chu Heng had been named the Marquis of Champion, wielding absolute military authority. His Cultivation had long since surpassed the Dao realm, reaching heights that were now impossible to measure.

Despite the miraculous gains Chu Wushang had found in the Time Cave, he remained unable to close the gap between himself and Chu Heng.

“The truth is, you have always misjudged your father. He wanted to tell you the truth long ago, but he feared you might act impulsively. You are his own flesh and blood; do you truly believe he would maliciously steal your happiness? You assume he traded Qinglan to Chu Heng to secure the loyalty of a powerful general. But the reality is that Qinglan was the one who went to your father and requested the marriage to Chu Heng...”

Uncle Fu, witnessing Chu Wushang’s internal agony, sighed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What?” Chu Wushang gasped, his mind reeling. He couldn't believe his ears.

He had spent years blaming Chu Gucheng’s cold pragmatism for his heartbreak. Now, Uncle Fu was claiming the opposite—that Qinglan herself had initiated the union with Chu Heng.

“I cannot bear to see you continue to hate your father for this,” Uncle Fu went on. “He has always felt a deep sense of sorrow regarding your pain. He is incredibly proud of you. He knows you are suffering, yet you maintain your duties for the sake of the Immortal Chu Haotu.”

With a final sigh and a pat on the shoulder, Uncle Fu turned and walked away into the night.

Chu Wushang remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic mess as he tried to reconcile this new information with his years of resentment. He stood like a statue, lost in a daze.

He failed to notice that when Uncle Fu had touched his shoulder, a nearly invisible wisp of black mist had seeped into his skin, dissolving into the air like smoke in the wind.

As he stared toward the distant estate of the Marquis of Champion, a sudden, dark glint of pure malice ignited in Chu Wushang’s eyes.