Volume One, Chapter 54: The Iron Cavalry’s Broken Spears—The Fierce Battle at Yanmen Pass

The biting northern wind swept across the barren fields, carrying swirling yellow dust in its howl.

Nami gave Han Feng a gesture indicating all was well, just as a sudden wave of oppression crashed over them.

Jing Boyuan casually folded the towel in his hand twice, reached out to turn off the light, then stepped around the foot of the bed. Without a word, he set the towel on the bed frame, climbed onto the bed, and from behind Ye Qingxin, pulled her into his embrace.

His former master had refused to ascend to immortality with his help, choosing instead to reenter the mortal realm and endure hardship for the sake of all beings.

"Understood, BOSS!" The electronic voice crackled through the comm device, and immediately outside, two pursuing Hondas were obliterated by beams of light.

"Li Miaomiao threatened me, saying if I didn’t comply, she’d spread rumors that I tried to secretly film her changing clothes," Lu Mingfei muttered weakly, his head resting on the table.

The four judges and the event coordinator who appeared in the video were all affected, from their careers to their families.

The worsening injury from the Heavenly Dao previously meant he could now only muster half his strength—a barely sufficient force to handle a member of the three great clans. Confronting the prodigies of Gaidai or the heads of the three families would likely mean death.

Within mere breaths, Taichu, Bai Jingqi, and Zhuge Shangyan rushed past the stone chamber, sprinting toward the stone gate.

Stepping off the dining car, Chen Jiexi saw Reba and Chen He hoisting a wooden beam, ready to carry it onto the wooden platform of the cabin, while two workers waited above to assist.

"Speak plainly. What information did you get from me? You must understand, some things are beyond your reach," Ye fixed his gaze on the old man, trying to intimidate him into retreat.

A radiant light burst forth—a divine sword breaking through the darkness at dawn. The blade shimmered with a piercing force; its dazzling glow was magnificent and mesmerizing, causing an involuntary shiver in the hearts of those who beheld it.

The other meaning behind those words was clear: if Zhen Shifeng didn’t rest properly, he himself would be placed on the ‘kill on sight’ list.

By all rights, the matter had reached its conclusion. Now, all that remained was to await the birth of the ghost child and the Six Gates’ stationing at the ghost gate.

Shi Jingtian turned his head and saw the elderly man sitting at the door, smiling kindly. His face, aged and yellowed with wrinkles, suggested he was close to a century old, yet his benevolent expression was unmistakable.

Yang Weinan looked puzzled as he examined the visitor outside the door—neither a TV reporter carrying a camera nor a weightlifting coach in sportswear, but a young man dressed in police uniform... a civilian officer?

As for me, I continued guarding the shop, bored, stretching out my left and right hands to play rock-paper-scissors.

Nearby, the foreign Taoist priest pulled out his phone, drawing arcs in the air—three circles to the left, three to the right.

Although the Prison Lord’s resolve was steadfast and he yearned to strike back, the disparity between forces was immense. He absorbed the chairman’s lessons in struggle—never acting rashly, instead building strength patiently, waiting for the right moment. His objective was purely political, achieved through military means: to carve out control over the Sanhe region, not to wage total war.

"Brother Zhiji, I have a question! Why do you show no suspicion toward me? Aren’t you afraid I’m a spy sent by another sect? Your attitude doesn’t seem that of a stranger, but more like an old friend reunited after many years," Gu Qing smiled gently, voicing the question that had long puzzled him.