Wen Zhengxi came from an aristocratic family. Everything had always been arranged for him, and he had never faced a situation like this, where even a hundred mouths could not clear his name.
Several times he tried to speak, only for Wang Chong to curse him back into silence. The voices around him could melt gold, and their mounting slander could wear away his very bones; they left him no room to argue.
Blood rushed to Wen Zhengxi's head. He struck at Wang Chong with his palm, shouting, "You traitor! How dare you frame me?"
Wang Chong silently circulated his profound art and met the blow with his own palm. Having advanced to the Second Realm of the Innate Realm and set foot across the threshold of a Grandmaster, he suddenly understood the Pure Yang Skill, which he had not yet fully mastered, with perfect clarity. His internal power shifted in subtle ways, drawing in and surging out, roaming without any fixed pattern.
As Wen Zhengxi unleashed his palm force, he felt nothing but emptiness, and alarm instantly gripped his heart. Immediately afterward, a surge of palm force came rushing toward him. His own force was already spent, leaving him no room to change his move. Wang Chong's palm struck him, inflicting a grievous injury, while Wang Chong shouted, "Cousin, are you trying to flee your punishment?"
Wen Zhengxi's heart chilled. I absolutely cannot die here. As long as I get back to Chang'an, there will be room to explain. He immediately employed his lightness skill and leaped onto the wall. Wang Chong thrust out a palm, but Wen Zhengxi dared not block it and turned to flee. In truth, Wang Chong had held back. Wen Zhiwei had been killed by "Wen Zhengxi," and Wen Zhengxi, too, needed someone for