"My father is well in every regard. Thank you for your concern, martial uncle."
Nezha's tone was flat, carrying a touch of distance. Clearly, he had no wish to say more, much less take up Jiang Ziya's thread of conversation.
He had come this time on True Man Taiyi's orders, merely lending Xiqi a hand along the way and doing his part for the face of his sect.
As for next time... he had no intention of standing on Xiqi's side every single time.
Before this, he had long since made an agreement with Ao Bing: in this Great Tribulation of Investiture of the Gods, they would steady the situation in Zhaoge and share the pressure weighing on his father, Li Jing.
In his heart, all those feudal lords, ministers, and generals of Xiqi were rebel officials and traitors who had betrayed Yin Shang. Once the time came, he would surely cast every last one of them into the Eighteen Levels of Hell, never to be reborn for all eternity.
Just as Nezha was taking his leave of the others, his figure shifting slightly as he prepared to step out of the prime minister's residence, leave Xiqi, and return to Chentang Pass—
A gentle yet unquestionable divine thought abruptly pierced through the void and sank straight into his sea of consciousness. It was True Man Taiyi's transmitted voice, leaving not the slightest room for discussion:
"Disciple, remain in Xiqi for now. Assist your martial uncle Jiang Ziya, help Xiqi rise, and follow the momentum to push forward the Great Tribulation of Investiture of the Gods, overturning Great Shang's national destiny."
The icy Dao Sound lingered in his sea of consciousness, every word heavy, pressing down until the Immortal Light around Nezha's body abruptly stalled.
The youth's tall, straight figure stiffened