45. Entering the City and the Imperial Scholar

The distance of ten miles vanished in an instant.

The towering walls of the county town stood like a ferocious beast crouching before the mountain range.

Blazing torches illuminated the battlements, their raging flames outshining the moon in the sky. Row upon row of tension-spall ballistas stood neatly arranged, while the projectiles for the tiger-crouching cannons were piled into small hillocks, resembling clusters of tiny graves.

Zhang Guangjian, standing silently and rigidly atop the city wall, wore a solemn expression as he nervously gripped the scabbard of the long saber at his waist.

A faint silver hue emerged in his eyes, and his fangs grew uncontrollably until they pierced through his lips.

Yun Tingting spoke with a resolute tone, though her heart was filled with boundless emotion. She knew her father had already expended an immense amount of mental effort for the sake of her illness, yet she would rather die in a peaceful slumber than have her father take someone else's life on her account.

"What about the worst-case scenario, then?" Jiang Ming asked with a smile. Since there were noble ambitions, there were bound to be less desirable ones.

Hearing this, Cheng Lingzhi simply rolled her eyes in response, unwilling to dwell on the subject any longer. She was no cripple who needed to be supported and fed for doing nothing.

A startled cry echoed from outside the door, and Mo Langyue darted out swiftly, followed immediately by the sound of intense combat.

Letting go of her younger sister's hand, she placed her palm against her sister's forehead, her face instantly filling with confusion—why did it feel no different from an ordinary person's?

"Hehe, now you know how to beg for mercy? It's too late. Given the threat you just made, there's no way I can let you leave. I'm afraid for the safety of my children and grandchildren, so today, you must die." Song Niuche's face was brimming with murderous intent as he sneered at Wei Kang, who was kneeling and begging for mercy, practically kowtowing.

After pondering for a long time, Aunt Yun finally made a silent decision. She turned, entered the inner room, and came out wearing a brown hooded brocade cloak. Some things would never happen if one didn't take the chance, and besides, she could no longer afford to wait. Therefore, she intended to play a dangerous game.

Ning Lu's pretty face flushed red, and she let out a low moan, submissively getting to her feet. Following that, the room was suffused with a scene of intoxicating spring scenery.

While Yingjun and Mu Wan'er supported Old Master Mu out of the main hall, one on either side, the old master looked at his two sons, whose faces had finally lost their swelling, and said, "You two unfilial wretches, fend for yourselves. When I return, I do not wish to see you here ever again." It was clear that the old master was truly disappointed in these two good-for-nothing sons.

The very moment they exchanged blows just then, their acute perception of danger instantly sensed an extreme threat, prompting them to retreat decisively.

Was this Long Ying acting magnanimously for show, or was she intentionally trying to bring Sun Fengzhao and Wu Xiaojing together? Or perhaps it was a probing test after hearing Long Jue's tearful complaints and discovering that Sun Fengzhao and Wu Xiaojing were not actually a couple?

Naturally, achieving this goal required an enormous amount of chakra—at the very least, Naruto's current body would need to reach adulthood first.

Three men walked in, two of them carrying a large platter on which rested a steaming roast suckling pig. The third man, slightly older, carried a wine pot and looked more like the proprietor of the restaurant.

The underground base was not large, and even for a first-time visitor, the entrances and exits could be found relying purely on instinct. Shoving Du Run aside, Qin Shuiyan finally strode toward the exit without looking back. Their argument had already attracted the on-duty family guards of the Du clan. While these men could not be called formidable warriors, they were at least elite soldiers of the East Lake Du clan.

Abruptly, his voice was cut off as if sliced by a pair of scissors; without the slightest warning, all sound vanished completely. The military doctor immediately rushed over to examine him, but it was already too hopeless.

The expressions of all the martial heroes sank simultaneously, and in an instant, a lingering gloom pervaded the great hall, impossible to shake off. Duan Zhicheng felt a chill in his heart, knowing he had spoken the wrong words, so he fell silent, retreated to his original seat, and drank his tea.

Zulati also stared at the mistress in sheer terror, murmuring, "How can this be... Are you not from the noble lineage of the Xire Tribe...? Who on earth are you?" The Xire Tribe was an advanced insectoid race whose true form resembled dragonflies. They did not belong to the eight mainstream insectoid races, but among the sub-mainstream races, they constituted the largest population by far.