It was the Hour of the Snake, and the sunlight blazed.
The palace walls stretched on and on as the Phoenix Carriage raced past.
Pearl curtains and draperies swayed from side to side, and Empress Yin's face was filled with terror.
The heavy snow had come without warning and vanished without a trace, as though nothing had happened. Yet five guardians were dead!
"Your Majesty." The Phoenix Carriage stopped outside the Ancestral Hall, where Empress Yin saw the Imperial Carriage that had just arrived.
Emperor Jingde's face was overcast with dark clouds. Without a word, he strode into the Ancestral Hall.
In this sacred sanctuary of martial arts, three gray-haired elders held incense and candles aloft, mourning the old friends with whom they had spent every day.
"Take it down!!"
Emperor Jingde lost control of his emotions and roared hoarsely.
The youthful portrait hung high in the Inner Hall. That gentle smile stabbed deep into the emperor's eyes, filling him with a sense of invisible humiliation.
Emperor Jingde sprang off the ground and tore down the portrait. His face contorted as he ripped it apart, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it to the floor. Then he stamped on it in fury, trampling the youthful face again and again until the portrait lay in fragments.
"Your Majesty..." Empress Yin stepped forward to try to soothe him.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." Emperor Jingde took a deep breath and forcibly steadied himself.
The three old guardians looked withered, their cloudy gray eyes filled with grief.
Emperor Jingde stared fixedly at the elder in the three-clawed Python-Robe and demanded urgently:
"Jiang Huji, tell me! You are the supreme gods of martial arts! The strongest warriors outside the Ninefold Palace are merely flies in your palms-you need only close your fists to crush