Eight Hundred Retainers Test Their Blades? Let's See How Sharp They Are!

The ceremonial procession arrived before the plaza of Zhangtai Palace with a deafening roar, its momentum vast and imposing.

Zhao Cheng sat upright in a leather chariot, clad in full general's armor. As the procession advanced into the plaza, his features became increasingly clear to the many ministers watching.

The ministers gradually began to show looks of astonishment.

When the procession halted in the plaza, Zhao Cheng stepped slowly from the chariot. As his heroic, martial figure stood tall as if supporting the heavens, his face became even more distinct.

Truly, it was:

His forehead was like carved jade holding a frosted blade, his brows like sharpened edges reflecting the cold of snow. A pair of starry eyes broke from their sheath, just like the glint of the Longyuan Sword.

His nose was like a golden spear pointing obliquely at the palace gate, his bridge like an iron spine piercing the high heavens. His cheekbones were sharp and prominent like arrowheads, his jawline stern and imposing like the swaying tassels of a helmet!

Many ministers saw this and immediately grew even more suspicious and unsettled.

They only felt, why did this youth look so familiar?

The more they looked, the more familiar he seemed, and within that familiarity, a sense of inexplicable awe permeated their hearts. Mixed with the shock of Zhao Cheng's killing intent, it formed a strange, indescribable feeling.

It made many ministers feel as though they were a head shorter just by seeing Zhao Cheng.

It was not until they heard Ying Zheng's laughing sigh, "Meng Wu spoke truly; this youth resembles Us!"

The ministers, who had been filled with doubt and suspicion, were suddenly struck with realization upon hearing these words. Looking at Zhao Cheng again, they finally understood where that sense of awe originated.

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