The boundless crimson aura painted the clouds and mist in the sky the color of sunset.
The heavens seemed to be scorched by a raging fire, its refracted light spilling across people's faces and bringing an inexplicable sense of salvation.
Within the clouds.
Golden light flickered around Zeng Anmin.
It was precisely this golden radiance that gave him the ability to fly through the air.
Clearly, this golden light came from Zeng Shilin.
As an Extreme Confucian cultivator with the strength of a Fourth Rank Martial Artist, Zeng Anmin obviously did not possess the ability to fly.
Zeng Anmin's Vast Righteous Qi shone crimson, blocking the sword radiance that filled the sky.
Combined with the golden light around him, he stood like a War God, peerless and alone!
His phoenix eyes were exceedingly beautiful, yet at this moment, they looked down upon all living things.
The instant he appeared.
The entire plaza fell silent.
Everyone stared at him blankly.
"Zeng Anmin??"
Among the officials, Qin Shouchang was somewhat stunned. "How did he fly up there?"
"It was this old man."
Zeng Shilin's figure slowly emerged. He first came before Emperor Jianhong and gave a light bow.
"Your Majesty, matters at my home delayed this minister, and I arrived late. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness."
Emperor Jianhong looked at him with a smile and waved his hand.
"No matter. Duke Wenqing, please take your seat."
As he spoke, he cast a faint glance at Si Zhongxiao.
Si Zhongxiao understood at once and hastily stepped aside, bowing. "Duke Wenqing, please."
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
Zeng Shilin slowly walked to the only vacant seat and sat down. As he passed Emperor Jianhong, an unknown sharpness flashed through his eyes, only to be buried again an instant later.
Facing the puzzled gazes of the