The Popular Hotcake

The people from the Miro Divine Cult and the East Sea League of Myriad Nations came and went in a hurry. The Snowfield Federation's envoy had simply been slain on the spot, and now only three long-bearded, bald old men with exceedingly ugly expressions remained at Lin Qi's residence. They glared hostilely at Ying Zheng, who sat in the center of the hall, their auras churning like thunder. Clearly, they were truly enraged.

Lin Qi frowned. Before he could speak, Blackbeard swaggered forward and, before everyone present, gave Master Miaowen a hard slap on the shoulder. "Hahaha, all who come are guests. Today is Lin Qi's—my son's, and also the Eastern Harmony King of the Blood Qin Empire's—wedding feast. The three masters are all honored guests who were not easily invited. Please, take your seats, take your seats!"

With a forceful wave of his hand, Blackbeard roared grandly, "Replace the table of food! Bring out the finest wine and meat!"

Blackbeard's joking thoroughly muddled the stiff atmosphere between Ying Zheng and Miaowen's group. Smiling, Ying Zheng raised a jade-green wine cup and took a sip, narrowing his eyes at the three presiding masters as a glint of cold light silently flashed through them. He gave Zhao Lu a meaningful look, then slightly tilted his head toward the doors. Zhao Lu immediately understood and slipped out like a ghost.

Since Jiafanluo had delivered himself to the door, Ying Zheng would not let him leave. He needed the Miro Divine Cult's strength to check the Heavenly Temple. Better still if both sides emerged battered and broken—that would be the most wonderful outcome of all.

If those two colossal religious powers truly tore each other apart, then thinking of the immense gains he might reap under such circumstances, Ying Zheng trembled all over