After Yang Chen surpassed Sima Long's result, Wu Changkong closed his eyes. His disciple He Feng was likewise rendered speechless, having lost every trace of his earlier sharpness.
He Feng's heart was bitter beyond words. The ridiculous part was that he had actually planned to provoke Yang Chen just now.
He feared Sima Long and did not dare contend with him, believing himself to be first among everyone except Sima Long. Though Yang Chen had defeated him once, he still refused to accept it. But now, even if he did not want to accept it, he had to. His earlier provocation of Yang Chen had simply been asking for humiliation.
Even Sima Long could not surpass Yang Chen. What right did he have to refuse to accept Yang Chen? What did he have to be unconvinced about?
He Feng looked miserable, but he had no idea how miserable his master was.
Wu Changkong truly felt like crying. At first, when he saw Sima Long reach the Eighteenth Level, he had indeed been extremely displeased, but he had still been able to calm himself somewhat.
Yet who could have known that, in the blink of an eye, Yang Chen would emerge—more monstrous and more terrifying than Sima Long. He had charged straight to the twentieth level in one breath.
Once word of this reached the other higher-ups of the royal family, whether Wu Changkong could keep his position today would become an unknown.
Why?
Because the Trial Assembly had been his idea. If it succeeded, he would surely receive endless rewards. But with Yang Chen's matter thrown into the mix, talk of success was nothing but fart.
This Trial Assembly had become a wedding dress made entirely for someone else.
"Damn it, damn it!" Wu Changkong roared inwardly, yet he had