On the Tai Chi Hall, the lights are bright.
The ministers were still standing where they were, and no one dared to leave.
Nanan Gate's battle report is like a huge stone pressing on everyone's chest, and even breathing becomes cautious.
Yao Jingyi The moment he stepped into the palace gate, everyone's eyes fell on him.
He walked to the center of Danbi, stood still, and bowed.
"Your Majesty, I am back."
Emperor Xianwu looked at him and said nothing.
The ministers also fell silent, and everyone's eyes fell on Yao Jingyi.
Yao Jingyi straightened up and took a deep breath. "Zhou Qi... I won't come."
Four words are like four stones thrown into a frying pan.
Tai Chi Hall has exploded.
"What?!" Ministry of War Minister Liu Chong jumped out first, his face flushed, "He won't come? Your Majesty rewarded him with spiritual stones, Cultivation Method, and elixirs. How dare he not come?!"
Ministry of Revenue Shang Shu Zhou Wenyuan's face was livid, and his voice was a little higher. "Master Yao, how did you spread the word? Have you made His Majesty's will clear?"
Yao Jingyi glanced at him and said calmly, "I've made it clear."
"Then what does it mean that he doesn't come?" Liu Chong took a step forward, his voice getting louder and louder, "Who does he think he is? A guest, how dare you resist the order and be disrespectful?"
"That's right!" Another official came out and pointed in the direction outside the palace, "Just a Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer, really thinks he is invincible? The court gives him a face, but he slaps his nose on his face!"
"I don't know what's good or bad!"
"Ungrateful!"
"This kind of person should have his home searched and held accountable!"
The angry scoldings of the ministers grew louder and louder, like a swarm of wasps that had their nest stabbed.
Yao Jingyi stood there without saying a word.
Emperor Xianwu never spoke.
He leaned on the dragon chair and watched the officials quarreling together without any expression on his face.
The scoldings of the ministers gradually became quieter.
They finally noticed that the man on the dragon throne had not said a word from beginning to end.
It's quiet in the Tai Chi Hall.
An inexplicable pressure is constantly growing.
Everyone secretly looked at the man on the dragon throne. He was motionless, but his momentum was getting stronger little by little.
It was so overwhelming that everyone could only bow their backs and lower their heads.
Yao Jingyi was the closest, and he felt the momentum most strongly.
A calm before the storm.
Your Majesty is patient.
This is not a good thing.
Emperor Xianwu has never been a good-tempered person.
During his thirty-seven years as an emperor, he had learned one thing: not to make decisions when he was angry.
But that doesn't mean he isn't angry.
Yao Jingyi has noticed the murderous gaze firmly fixed on his back.
Just for a moment, Yao Jingyi felt that his legs and feet were weak, and his back was soaked with cold sweat.
Yao Jingyi Now I regret not using that favor.
Accompanying you is like accompanying a tiger.
It's hard to say whether this Xianwu emperor would kill himself in a rage.
The hall was silent for as long as a cup of tea.
Yao Jingyi felt the eyes on his back move away, and his racing heart finally recovered.
Emperor Xianwu spoke in a calm voice, "Transmit the message, please ask Uncle Jing to come out!"
The ministers' breathing stopped for a moment.
Prince Jing.
Emperor Xianwu's uncle, Old Wang, who has the highest seniority, seniority and deepest cultivation in the royal family.
I am one hundred and forty-three this year, but my cultivation level is unfathomable.
Thirty years ago, Northern Frontier barbarians invaded. He defended Yanmen Pass for three days and three nights with one man and one sword, until reinforcements arrived.
After that battle, he was hit by an arrow in his left knee and walked with a slight limp, but no one dared to underestimate him for this.
The eunuch who conveyed the order hurriedly ran out of the palace.
Nanan Gate, It's already dark.
The large array of spiritual lights on the city gate flickered on and off, like a lamp that was about to burn out.
The soldiers guarding the city had pale faces and chapped lips. They had spent a lot of energy in the fierce battle for a long time.
Even though I didn't go down to fight for real, it was still very tiring to be on tenterhooks for half a day.
On the city wall of Nanan Gate, Han Zhang was leaning on the battlements. The wound on his left arm had been simply bandaged, but blood was still seeping out, and the bandage was soaked in dark red.
Zhao Hu stood beside him, his face ashen, his eyes fixed on the dots of firelight in the darkness outside the city.
Three thousand cavalry were still roaming outside the city.
They changed their tactics. Instead of sporadic cold arrows, they organized a charge every half hour, rushed to the city gate, poked the door panel with their spears a few times, and then retreated.
Every time they charge, a large portion of the formation's spiritual stones will be consumed.
In just half a day, nearly tens of thousands of Mid-Grade Spirit Stone have been lost.
Money is what fights wars.
On the city wall, Zhao Hu's voice has become hoarse from shouting.
He stood behind the crenel, looking at the dark cavalry under the city, his eyes were red.
"Hold on!" His voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible. "Reinforcements will be here soon!"
Reinforcements did come, but only one person came.
When Prince Jing came, he did not lead any troops.
A white-haired old man climbed up the stairs step by step from the city gate.
Han Zhang frowned and pressed his hand on the handle of the knife.
Zhao Hu also became alert and turned to look at the stairs.
The moonlight shone on his face, revealing an old man who looked to be no more than sixty years old.
His white hair is neatly tied back, his figure is slim, his cheekbones are slightly high, and his eyes are sunk in the eye sockets.
He was wearing a washed gray robe and had a sword hanging on his waist.
Han Zhang reacted instantly, knelt down on one knee, cupped his fists and said, "Han Zhang, the last general, see Master Prince Jing!"
Zhao Hu and the surrounding soldiers also knelt down and said in unison, "See Master Prince Jing!"
Prince Jing didn't look at them.
He walked to the battlements, stood with his hands behind his hands, and looked at the campfire outside the city.
The night wind blew his white hair, fluttering in the firelight.
"Get up." The old man's voice sounded.
Everyone stood up and stood behind the old man.
He looked at the camp of three thousand cavalry outside the city, looked at the big flag with the word "Qin" in it that rustled in the night wind, and was silent for a few breaths.
Then he asked, "Who is leading the charge?"
"Qin Hao." Han Zhang replied, "Champion Marquis's nephew, Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak."
Prince Jing said nothing, stretched out his hand and slowly pulled out the sword from his waist.
When the sword was unsheathed, the momentum of the city gate changed instantly, as if there was an invisible hand holding down the entire city gate.
The Han Zhang on the side is Foundation Establishment, Eighth Layer. At this moment, it is clearly felt that the strength of this Prince Jing is by no means an ordinary Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer.
That momentum was definitely more powerful than Qin Hao, whom he had just fought several times.
Prince Jing holds the sword and jumps down from the top of the city.
Not far away, Qin Hao was riding on a black horse, holding a spear, looking at the lonely figure outside the city gate from a distance.
He couldn't see the man's face clearly, he could only see an old man in gray robe standing there under the dim light of a lantern, like an old pine tree.
Qin Hao narrowed his eyes.
Prince Jing.
One of the royal family's trump cards was Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer fifty years ago.
Qin Hao gripped the spear tightly, feeling an indescribable sense of heroism in his heart.
Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak vs. Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak, he takes advantage of his youth, Qi and Blood is in full swing, and his physical strength is at its peak.
But the man opposite has been fighting for nearly a hundred years.
One hundred years of killing experience and fifty years of Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer experience cannot be compensated by youth.
Qin Hao took a deep breath and rode forward.
The horse's hooves trampled on the grass, making a dull sound.
He reined in his horse twenty feet in front of Prince Jing.
"Master Prince Jing." Qin Hao clasped his fists and said in a polite tone, "Junior Qin Hao, I have long admired your name."
Prince Jing looked at him and said nothing.
Qin Hao continued, "Your Majesty is already old, why bother wading into this muddy water? It is better to go back home and enjoy your old age."
"Words are useless, just draw your sword." Prince Jing interrupted him.
Qin Hao's words were stuck in his throat.
Prince Jing slowly drew out the sword from his waist.
The sword was unsheathed, and the low hum echoed in the night sky.
The tip of the sword points to Qin Hao.
"Come."
One word.
No unnecessary words.
Qin Hao's face darkened.
He gripped the spear tightly, Spiritual Power surged wildly in his body, and Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak's momentum suddenly released, pressing towards Prince Jing like a huge wave.
Prince Jing stood there, motionless.
His robes were blown by the momentum, and his white hair was fluttering in the wind, but his body was as motionless as being nailed to the ground.
Then, he also released his momentum.
It's not overwhelming.
It is restrained and introverted, like a knife hidden in a sheath, with only a little edge showing.
But that bit of sharpness made Qin Hao's expression change.
The aura did not overwhelm him, but rather like a needle, it pierced his aura accurately and reached the center of his eyebrows.
Qin Hao subconsciously took half a step back.
He gritted his teeth, steadied his body, shook his spear, and Spiritual Power gathered on the tip of the spear, making a sharp whistle.
"Since the prince insists on fighting, then this junior will be offended!" Qin Hao said seriously with his eyes focused.
The spear thrust out.
The gun energy was like a dragon, carrying all the power of Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak and heading straight for Prince Jing's chest.
Prince Jing moved.
He turned sideways and the sword flashed.
The intersection of guns and swords.
"Qiang--!"
Sparks flew everywhere, air waves exploded, and a large area of turf on the ground was blown away.
Qin Hao took a few steps back with both men and horses, the mouth of the gun holding the gun numb.
Prince Jing stood where he was, not taking a step back.
But his left leg trembled slightly when he landed on the ground.
That's an old wound.
An old wound from thirty years ago.
Qin Hao saw it.
A sneer curled up at the corner of his mouth.
"Your Majesty, are your legs not feeling well?"
Prince Jing did not answer.
He raised his sword and pointed at Qin Hao again.
The night wind howled, and two Foundation Establishment, Ninth Layer Peak momentums collided in the void.
Sword light and gun gas exploded in the darkness, illuminating half of the sky.
Everyone's eyes were attracted to the two figures, but no one noticed that something was quietly happening in the west direction of the city.