"Chen Yan?"
Chen Fazhen looked toward Xia Zhiyang, light flickering in his eyes.
"He isn't dead?
"Chen Sheng didn't kill him?"
Xia Zhiyang nodded calmly.
"It wasn't Chen Sheng. It was Chen Yuan."
Chen Fazhen's eyes were still, his expression unruffled, but he slowly shook his head.
"I know him. The greatest genius in ten thousand ages, the Heavenly Divine General of Great Xia, the most dazzling figure in the Human World.
"But I've been laying my plans for tens of thousands of years. How could I withstand the upheavals of these last two or three years?"
Xia Zhiyang seemed to have anticipated Chen Fazhen's refusal. He spoke evenly.
"He managed to turn the tables in just a few short years. You could take out the Emperor Fruit as an investment."
"An investment?" Chen Fazhen looked at Xia Zhiyang sternly.
"Lord of Qi and Blood, you should go back. Never mind Xuan Yi—even the seven Dao Children under my command are all peerless Eighth Orders I painstakingly cultivated over tens of thousands of years.
"You want me to invest in a Chen Yan who appeared out of nowhere. What are you trying to do?
"Are you denying all my patience, or mocking my plans?"
Chen Fazhen's voice grew colder and colder as his gaze clashed with Xia Zhiyang's.
"As you said, you are the Lord of Martial Arts, and so am I.
"If the Lord of Qi and Blood is dissatisfied, then I, Chen, would also like to seek Venerable Sir's guidance."
In an instant.
Crimson light filled the vast lake, spilling outward in layers until a blood-red starry sky appeared, rising from below.
Xia Zhiyang stood calmly, surveying his surroundings. Billions of Formation Patterns flickered into view in the void, and an immense force of rules locked onto him.