No, Please!

At the hotel entrance, Yang Haohan, Saint Moon, and Sheng Cai'er vanished on the spot.

Inside the Alliance Executive Government, Yang Haohan glared at Saint Moon with a grim expression. Unable to restrain himself, he slammed the table. "Saint Moon, what am I supposed to say to you? Can't you rein in that temper of yours? You tried to kill a prodigy of our Knight Temple without even finding out what happened!"

"It was a misunderstanding, wasn't it? I lost my head too." Saint Moon gave a bitter smile.

"Enough. Your great-granddaughter never considers the consequences of her actions. Even if she escapes punishment this time, I expect you to teach her properly," Yang Haohan said. "Otherwise, even as the Reincarnation Saintess, she'll never become a top powerhouse with that attitude."

Saint Moon nodded repeatedly. This affair had indeed gotten out of hand, and he did not dare argue.

"What's more, your Assassin Temple must compensate that boy. Otherwise, I won't be able to answer to him," Yang Haohan said. "You'd better not try to fob him off with some trifling gift. I'll assess it on his behalf. If it isn't satisfactory, let your great-granddaughter take a slap from my elder brother too."

"Yes, yes, I understand. We'll certainly compensate him properly." Saint Moon agreed.

Just then, Yang Haohan's expression shifted slightly. He froze for a moment, then looked at Saint Moon with a strange expression.

"Is there something else?" His stare made Saint Moon uneasy.

"My elder brother would like you to come see him." Yang Haohan's expression was exceedingly odd.

"Uh, no. I'm not going, not even if it kills me. At my age, how could I take another beating?" Saint Moon actually looked frightened now. He waved his hands repeatedly and tried to leave.

However, ripples suddenly spread through space, and a tall figure stepped out.

"Yang Hao... Senior Yang," Saint Moon exclaimed in shock.

He and Yang Haohan were roughly the same age, but he was over thirty years younger than Yang Haoyu. When he was born, Yang Haoyu had already made a name for himself in the Alliance and was on the verge of becoming one of its top powerhouses.

Thus, Yang Haoyu actually belonged to the generation above them.

The brothers Yang Haoyu and Yang Haohan were also over thirty years apart in age. Upon seeing Yang Haoyu, Yang Haohan hurriedly rose to greet him. "Elder Brother."

"Mm." Yang Haoyu nodded, then turned his gaze toward Saint Moon.

"Haohan, step outside," Yang Haoyu said calmly.

"Yes, Elder Brother."

Although Yang Haohan was the current leader of the Alliance, Yang Haoyu had raised him from childhood. He therefore held his elder brother in the utmost respect and would never disobey him.

"Senior Yang, this was a misunderstanding." After Yang Haohan ignored his pleading look, Saint Moon hurriedly explained himself to Yang Haoyu.

Before this man, Saint Moon showed none of the bearing of the current master of the Assassin Temple. He was simply a junior, trembling with apprehension.

"I don't think this was a misunderstanding. It was attempted murder," Yang Haoyu said calmly. "Don't worry, I won't do much to you. I hear you've been stuck at the peak of the second level of the ninth tier for many years. Combat is always the best way to bring out one's potential. How about this? Let's spar."

"No, please don't..."

Outside the door, Yang Haohan smiled.

Meanwhile, Yang Wenzhao helped Jiang Feng back to his hotel room. Along the way, several curious contestants opened their doors to watch them, but all had the sense not to ask what had happened.

The commotion outside had been far too alarming. The oppressive auras of two ninth-tier powerhouses had left everyone in the hotel unable to move a muscle.

They had always been the prodigies of their respective cities, the finest among their peers.

Yet only after encountering true top powerhouses did they realize just how weak they were.

In the eyes of a ninth-tier powerhouse, they were probably no different from ants-lives that could be snuffed out with a single finger.

Inside his room, Jiang Feng looked at the still-sleeping Dragon Baby, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly.

His mood wasn't too bad. Although he had taken a slap from Saint Moon, it wasn't much to someone as tough as him. As long as he wasn't killed outright, his undying body could restore him quickly.

Besides, what had that old bastard Saint Moon been thinking, attacking someone in the Holy City?

Jiang Feng felt that both the great-grandfather and great-granddaughter were rather pigheaded.

Originally, Jiang Feng had expected Yang Haoyu to arrive first. With over five hundred thousand spiritual power, his might surpassed everyone in the Alliance, and he could have reached Jiang Feng from the Demon Hunt Squad Trading Center in an instant.

But Jiang Feng was somewhat disappointed. His conveniently acquired master hadn't even shown his face; instead, the current Alliance leader had arrived.

Put that way, Jiang Feng felt Yang Haohan had certainly made an impressive entrance.

Now Jiang Feng was simply waiting for the Assassin Temple to deliver his compensation.

He believed that, after his performance as an achingly considerate young man who swallowed his grievances for the sake of friendship between the two great temples, Yang Haohan would secure the most generous compensation possible for him.

"Martial Nephew Yang, you should head back. You're injured too, so go and recuperate properly. You can't let this affect tomorrow's match." Jiang Feng managed a smile. His pale face was utterly bloodless, making his injuries look severe.

Hearing himself addressed as Martial Nephew Yang, Yang Wenzhao's eyelids twitched uncontrollably. He said solemnly, "Martial Uncle, thank you for arriving in time today. Otherwise, even if I hadn't died, I couldn't have avoided serious injuries."

"What are you saying? I'm your martial uncle. Isn't it only right that I help you?" Jiang Feng patted Yang Wenzhao's shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Martial Uncle. My grandfather will definitely get justice for you," Yang Wenzhao said with conviction.

"Justice doesn't matter. As long as this doesn't affect the relationship between our two temples, that's enough." Jiang Feng laughed inwardly, but his expression remained bitter, his frail face filled with helplessness.

"Rest and recover, Martial Uncle. I'll take my leave." An idea arose in Yang Wenzhao's mind. He would find his grandfather and make certain Jiang Feng received justice.

They had injured someone for no reason. The Assassin Temple had gone too far. This was outright bullying.

"Mm, off you go."

After seeing Yang Wenzhao out, Jiang Feng shed his feeble appearance, and color gradually returned to his face. He stretched his limbs, setting off a series of cracks and pops.

The several bones broken earlier had already reset themselves.

His injuries had indeed been quite severe at the time. An ordinary person would have been reduced to a bloody pulp by such a blow, but Jiang Feng was no ordinary person. He possessed nearly three thousand points of external spiritual power and an undying body that refused to let him die.

Still, Jiang Feng really was furious. Being struck and nearly injured by someone's slap without any explanation was more than anyone could bear.

But he knew that, in the situation earlier, the two great temples could truly have become enemies over this.

And if they became enemies, wouldn't he have taken that beating for nothing?

Thus, Jiang Feng could only offer everyone a way out first, preserving the relationship between the two great temples without making anyone lose face.

As for compensation, that wasn't important. In any case, he trusted that his master, Yang Haoyu, would not disappoint him.

Jiang Feng lay on the bed, observing Dragon Baby.

At that moment, Dragon Baby's body was curled up, and pure spiritual power was slowly gathering around it, forming a transparent cocoon that wrapped tightly around it.

The cocoon formed very slowly. Naturally, Jiang Feng would not disturb it. He went straight to the hotel room's sofa, sat cross-legged, and began cultivating.

Suddenly, delight appeared on his face. Under Yang Haohan's ninth-tier healing spell earlier, not only had his injuries almost completely healed, but even his internal spiritual power had increased.

Jiang Feng was just about to examine it carefully when a rapid knocking sounded at the door.

"Jiang Feng, are you there?"