"..." Seeing Zhao Zhitong's firm attitude, as though he would never turn back until he slammed into the southern wall.
The two guards exchanged glances and said nothing more.
But one thing was clear: if Zhao Zhitong fell out with the Tianyuan Holy Land, they would never choose to intervene and stand against Tianyuan.
They were no fools. They knew their own weight, and they knew even better what a miserable fate awaited anyone who made an enemy of Tianyuan.
As for Zhao Zhitong, it would certainly have been a lie to say he was not nervous at all.
After all, everyone knew that the Great Wu Dynasty had submitted to the Tianyuan Holy Land.
He was merely an official. How could he accomplish something that even an entire dynasty could not?
Surely such a vast holy land valued honor and kept its word.
That was how Zhao Zhitong comforted himself.
The Three Thousand Scrolls of the Grand Confucian meant far too much to him. He had to retrieve it.
It was an indispensable part of his breakthrough from the provincial graduate realm to the presented scholar realm-the most crucial piece of all!
Looking at the token Chen Juexin had given him, which he held in his hand, Zhao Zhitong kept praying that he could retrieve the Three Thousand Scrolls of the Grand Confucian without trouble.
Then, after spending considerable time and effort, he finally climbed the mountain.
Led by several disciples-though watched would have been more accurate-he arrived at Qingyun Prefecture.
Gulp!
Before he even entered, he could already feel an immense pressure bearing down on him.
As expected of the residence of the youngest Great Emperor in history.
Its imposing presence truly was extraordinary!
Zhao Zhitong approached the entrance, raised his hand, and grasped the door knocker held