Mingjing asked with concern, "Lord Hu, are you all right?"
Only then did Hu Xiaotian realize that he had survived Unenlightened's devastating punch. It was not because Unenlightened had shown mercy out of regard for their bond as master and disciple, but because the blow had struck his dantian sea of qi, triggering his body's instinctive defenses. Somehow, they had neutralized the heavy blow, sparing him any serious injury. Even so, the impact had sent his dantian sea of qi surging and his blood and qi churning.
By then, the two Phosphorus Fire Bombs Unenlightened had thrown had ignited the scriptures, which were burning fiercely. Mingjing hurried to the corner, grabbed a bucket, and began fighting the fire. Since countless scriptures and books were stored in the Book Collection Tower, fire prevention had always been given the utmost priority. Every floor of the Library Pavilion had buckets, along with dedicated vats of water.
Enduring the pain in his abdomen, Hu Xiaotian rose to help. The fire had not spread far, and their combined efforts soon extinguished the flames.
Both their faces were now blackened with smoke and soot. They exchanged a glance, relief showing on their faces.
At that moment, the monks of the Buddhist Sutra Pavilion came rushing up, and they heard Tongyuan anxiously calling for His Majesty.
Hu Xiaotian and Mingjing went downstairs and found the monks gathered in a circle. In their midst, Abbot Tongyuan knelt beside the Fake Emperor's corpse, looking utterly despondent. Yuanchen sat against the wall, his face drained of color and white as paper. "It seems Heaven has decreed that the Heavenly Dragon Temple cannot escape this calamity," he said bleakly.
Hu Xiaotian pushed through the crowd. Every monk glared at him, plainly venting their anger on him. They believed that if these