Chapter 50: The Guardian of the Gate

Within the Myriad Swords Returning to Origin formation, the main sword must be far more formidable than the others; otherwise, control becomes impossible. For now, these swords are useless to her unless she can find a supreme divine weapon to serve as the leading sword.

“Um, Zhang Xiaofeng, I’m at the People’s Hospital right now,” Wen Fangqian finally said to Zhang Xiaofeng in resignation.

At that moment, Xiao Yi’s stomach rumbled disobediently. Having just fought three rounds, and with the delay, it was already after seven o’clock.

A distance of a kilometer is nothing to a cultivator of the Celestial Martial Realm. Their gaze easily picked out Ye Qianfeng, who was crawling forward step by step with his rear stuck up in the air.

“You heard it, didn’t you? Now do you understand why I said what I did before?” Zhan Liuyun glanced at Wild Wolf and said indifferently.

Smack! Tang Yuchen took a slap to the face from the Demon Lord, a sound so loud it echoed through the air.

At level one, this skill can inflict a 50% slow for six seconds on a designated target, dealing an additional fifteen points of damage per second. For slowing effects alone, it’s nearly flawless, but there’s a drawback: if allies are nearby the victim, the turbulence effect is temporarily nullified.

“Of course not, of course not,” Lu Jiajia hurriedly explained, backing away a bit with some apprehension.

Though the Six Demonic Weapons of Heaven are Du Gu Feng’s signature treasures, with Du Gu Batian’s cultivation, any discomfort from wielding non-native weapons is reduced to almost negligible levels.

“How many times have I told you—leave these chores to the servants. What if you tire yourself out?” Consort Mei stepped forward, gently scolding as she took the pot from her hands.

Though his words were softly spoken, the venom and hatred in his tone were almost tangible.

How wonderful! Long Shaoyan grew even more forceful. But from that moment on, Helan Yao never managed to “keep the shuttlecock” in play again.

So, for a time, the fierce battle came to an abrupt halt. The great hall quieted once more, except for Bi Lingfeng, whose joints crackled and flesh squirmed, making him look eerily bizarre.

First, he rarely handled company affairs himself, so there was almost no need for a top luxury car. Second, after last time’s attack, a car worth over ten million gone in a flash seemed too much; by comparison, a car costing just over 1.6 million, whether in price or practicality, seemed much more reasonable.

“Your strength!” The Yin-Yang man’s face darkened. Even with the help of gu insects to deflect force, he found himself at a disadvantage in direct combat. Back in the port city, they had fought to a standstill, evenly matched.

Su Ruhui grew both shy and angry, turning her head to avoid him. But Gan Ran seized the moment to pinch her cheek, infuriating her further so that she turned and bit down hard on his finger.

How could the Prince of Gaomi, once showered with affection by Emperor Xiaozong and Consort Mo in the previous dynasty, possibly accept this?

The Fourth Prince, Gan Mei, was likewise shaped by his mother’s humble status. His true mother carried the pure blood of the Wei clan from Feng Prefecture, but he could not say so. Most importantly, the Empress Dowager and Changtai clearly disfavored him among the princes; without some great upheaval, Gan Mei’s chance at the throne was vanishingly slim.

Lin Bixiao brought up Shen Jiaming without warning—had she already seen through everything?

Now, for once, the two of them found themselves in rare accord, both understanding that if the lips are gone, the teeth will grow cold. At this critical moment, they had to maintain unity, for with the slightest misstep, they would both go down together.

“So what you’re saying is, you plan to run off with your whole family?” The man with the black scar sneered, dragging his knife along the boy’s neck. The cold blade made the boy shudder and drop to his knees.

He had to wait until the full line was engaged before entering the fray; otherwise, if he made a move too soon, the battleships and ground forces would surely retreat at once.

Lin Yuming could no longer force a smile. He understood that after this incident, the chairman would never forgive him. Acting without permission, striking first—he had certainly provoked the chairman’s wrath.

But that simple life no longer belonged to him. He still had a long road ahead, many things yet undone, and vengeance to exact. All of it bound him to an endless sea of suffering.

After Qiao Lina finished signing her name and came downstairs, Lin Yuming told her it might be an issue with the network cable outside, and he needed to go check.

The journey from Jingzhou to Chongqing alone spanned over two thousand li and would take three months on foot. Along the way were the thousand peaks and valleys of the Three Gorges, man-eating tigers, leopards, and wolves, beheading squads of government troops, and ruthless, savage bandits.

Jun Yan’s contemplation lasted a while, but the others, warned by Jinghua, did not disturb him until he finally snapped out of his reverie and looked at him in confusion.

He walked over and sat on the stump from earlier, gazing westward. That was the direction of the capital, Yan Jing, where both his grandsons had gone. Truth be told, he was tempted to go as well, to stand in Tiananmen Square and see Chairman Mao.

The old man lay prone on the ground, completely motionless. Perhaps after hearing the news of being stripped of his title and made a commoner, his heart condition had flared up on the spot.

In just a short while, the crowd of tourists had grown much larger than before, and in the distance, more visitors were strolling leisurely toward the scene.

So many years had passed. No one had achieved immortality, but magical arts had become ever more refined. Riding the clouds and mist was no longer a difficult feat.