Niao Ni
Chapter 758 The Rainbow of Qing Yu Nian, Year Twelve (2)
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The rain gently pattered on the straw hats. The ascetics knelt on the wet ground, their faces pale, staring blankly at the blind teenager with the black cloth covering his eyes in the center, unable to react for a long time. They were originally the last defense force of Emperor Qing. Back then, more than ten ascetics joined forces and almost killed Fan Xian and Shadow, which showed how powerful they were. But now, facing Wu Zhu, would they turn against him?
His Majesty the Emperor stood under the long corridor in front of the hall. The slight cold rain in the sky was blown by the wind to the place where he stood, wetting the beard beneath his chin, strand by strand. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze becoming increasingly cold, and said indifferently, "Useless things, a traitor from the temple has frightened you like this."
Strangely, His Majesty the Emperor didn't seem to be worried that these ascetics would betray him at this moment. Many, many years ago, the messenger who came out of the temple, in order to eliminate all traces of Ye Qingmei left in this world, reached some kind of agreement with the Emperor. It was from that day on that the ascetics of the Qing Temple traveling in the south of the continent regarded His Majesty as the true Chosen One.
What choice should be made between the Chosen One and the messenger from the temple? The ascetics were at least silent at this moment. Having gradually aged, they naturally knew the divine decree issued by that messenger many years ago, knew that a messenger had already fallen, but they didn't know if that messenger was the person in front of them.
His Majesty the Emperor didn't bother with these ascetics kneeling in the rain. He just quietly looked at Wu Zhu in the rain, and after a moment of silence, said, "There are no gods in this world. I am not... Old Wu, neither are you."
Wu Zhu's leg had been broken, and he was standing barely upright in a posture that was extremely heartbreaking. A person from the temple had returned to the world. Facing the most powerful military force assembled in the human world, he had bravely and fearlessly charged over, but still paid a heavy price. His Majesty the Emperor was right, he himself was not a god, so he had been betrayed one after another this year, injured by weapons that did not belong to this world, and his injuries were lingering, and he was no longer at his peak. However, Wu Zhu at this moment had also reached the most dilapidated and powerless stage.
In this duel between two peerless powerhouses, who would win and who would lose? Moreover, Ye Zhong had already led his troops here, surrounding Wu Zhu completely. Could Wu Zhu still break through the encirclement and stab the iron rod in his hand into Emperor Qing's throat?
The Emperor's indifferent gaze fell on Wu Zhu's tattered clothes and the left leg that was already broken, held together only by some skin and flesh. There was not a trace of emotion in his eyes, but he was thinking in his heart, even at this time, why haven't you come out yet?
Gradually, a complex emotion rushed into Emperor Qing's eyes. It was a self-deprecation, a trace of admiration, and a trace of unwillingness. Now Wu Zhu was already trapped in the encirclement. No matter how powerful he was, he could not turn the tide single-handedly. But at this moment, Fan Xian still hadn't shown himself. This kind of cold and forbearance was really terrifying.
Fan Xian, dressed in a eunuch's uniform, seemed to be extremely far from the main gate of the Hall of Supreme Harmony at this time, but in reality, he was extremely close. He carefully concealed his figure, controlling his breathing with the utmost concentration he had honed over the past two years, and slowly approached that side, taking advantage of the gentle rain falling all over the sky and the heavy, tense breathing of countless people in the arena.
From the moment he saw Emperor Lao Tzu coughing, Fan Xian confirmed the top-secret information he had learned on the way south: His Majesty's body... seemed to be really failing. He hadn't seen this powerful monarch for almost a year. Looking at him from afar through the rain today, it seemed that his face had become much older, his beard under his chin had grown much longer, and his expression seemed much more tired.
His Majesty had already stepped down from the altar, but he stood calmly under the eaves of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, watching Wu Zhu walk step by step, and still seemed so powerful, so powerful that anyone who tried to challenge him subconsciously lost three points of confidence first.
Fan Xian had of course seen Wu Zhu's miserable state. He had never thought that Uncle Wu Zhu would be injured so badly one day, just as he had never imagined before that someone in the world could break through the defenses of the Southern Qing Imperial Palace head-on, kill all the soldiers, and kill all the way to Emperor Qing's presence. His gaze swept over Uncle Wu Zhu's broken leg, forcibly suppressing the violently pounding heartbeat, forcibly suppressing the trace of panic and worry in his heart, as well as the sadness and sourness, and still hid in the shadows of this Hall of Supreme Harmony, coldly and powerfully waiting for the opportunity to strike.
Uncle Wu Zhu had reached the most dangerous moment, but he still didn't strike, because he knew that before His Majesty and Wu Zhu collided head-on, any strike of his would be meaningless. The war of Grandmasters was not something that ordinary people like them could arbitrarily interfere with. He didn't want to let down Wu Zhu's earth-shattering assassination attempt, so he had to endure it.
Ye Zhong was still there, Eunuch Yao was nowhere to be found, those ascetics didn't know if they would attack, and the imperial palace was still full of experts. Fan Xian had to place the hope of attracting everyone's attention and consuming Emperor Lao Tzu's strength on Uncle Wu Zhu, who was already tottering and whose body had been severely injured.
No matter who it was, including the three old monsters who had already died and left, if they had suffered such severe injuries as Wu Zhu today, they would probably only have one path: to resign themselves to death. However, Wu Zhu was still standing, which gave Fan Xian confidence and also gave the crowd in the imperial palace endless pressure.
Through the black cloth, Wu Zhu looked at the bright yellow figure on the stone steps ten feet away, the man who was much older than he remembered. For some reason, an endless feeling of sadness, sorrow, loathing, and disdain welled up in his heart.
Yes, after the events on Mount Dong, after listening to Fan Xian's drunken ravings all night on the eaves of the Fan residence in Kyoto, Wu Zhu silently embarked on the path of finding himself, because he wanted to know who he was, so he returned to the Temple.
At the moment he entered the Temple, he remembered many, many things, and naturally judged many things. Although in the next instant, the Temple forcibly erased those memories of his, as Fan Xian came to the Temple, Wu Zhu's memories had not yet fully recovered, but the deepest emotion before it was erased remained.
This emotion was stronger and more direct than his feelings for Fan Xian, directly attracting him to quietly watch this imperial palace for two days, directly attracting him to directly kill his way into the palace from outside the square of the imperial palace. Even if he didn't remember those things from back then at this moment, he still remembered the man in the dragon robe on the stone steps, remembered the killing intent he felt in his heart towards this man.
Fan Xian wanted Wu Zhu to follow his heart, and Wu Zhu's heart was filled with endless sadness, especially after seeing Xiao Li Zi at this moment, this sadness seemed to have found a channel for venting.
He wanted to kill him, he only remembered this one thing.
So Wu Zhu moved. He dragged his crippled leg, relying on the support of the iron rod in his hand, with extreme difficulty, yet full of murderous intent, dragging himself step by step, rubbing against the rainwater on the ground, his intact foot impatient, as if wanting to jump, and walked towards His Majesty the Emperor on the stone steps!
The moment Wu Zhu moved, the Qing army experts surrounding him also moved. With a deafening shout of killing, countless long weapons stabbed towards his body!
Those ascetics who were originally kneeling beside Wu Zhu finally couldn't withstand this powerful pressure and also moved. Some ascetics drifted away into the wind and rain, while others blocked Wu Zhu's path.
This fragment showed the supreme status of Emperor Qing in the hearts of these ascetics. Even though they knew that Wu Zhu was a messenger from the temple, Emperor Qing's single word "traitor" still made some ascetics choose to believe His Majesty.
The moment Wu Zhu moved, the situation in the arena immediately changed drastically, but no one noticed that when most of the ascetics sandwiched between His Majesty and Wu Zhu drifted into the wind and rain, clearing the path for Wu Zhu to face His Majesty the Emperor directly, one ascetic wearing a straw hat and coarse linen clothes drifted diagonally towards the side and rear, intentionally or unintentionally disrupting the offensive of the military experts.
Ye Zhong, who held a spear and sat on his horse like a martial god, condensing his Qi throughout his body, when Wu Zhu moved, his eyes flashed with murderous intent. He spurred his horse, and the horse neighed. The spear stabbed towards Wu Zhu's slightly tilted back like lightning.
Of the people in the arena, only Ye Zhong had experienced those events in Kyoto of the Qing Kingdom many years ago, so he knew how terrifying Wu Zhu was more than anyone else. He was a peerless powerhouse who could face Liu Yunshu head-on without falling behind in the slightest. Once he made up his mind to protect the Emperor, he would gather all his strength and leave no room for retreat, because he knew that when facing Wu Zhu, there was no way to stop the opponent's seemingly staggering footsteps other than putting all his efforts into one spear.
With a roar, a silvery spear light, as clean as water, stabbed towards Wu Zhu's back. Ye Zhong used the most powerful spear he had ever used in his life, concentrating all his spirit and aura on this spear, so he didn't notice that the ascetic who had drifted into the wind and rain seemed to be too close to his body.
Ascetics never used weapons, but this ascetic who was closest to Ye Zhong had taken out a poisoned dagger from his sleeve at some point, silently, like a strand of rain hidden in the rain, and gently stabbed Ye Zhong's waist!
Ye Zhong stabbed Wu Zhu's back, and the ascetic stabbed his waist!
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With a whoosh, Ye Zhong's spear, which had been charged up, stabbed out without any fancy moves, but ignoring any resistance, it directly stabbed into the extremely clean stone slab surface of the imperial palace that had been washed by the rain, as if it had stabbed into a piece of tofu. The tip of the spear was deeply plunged into the earth, several feet deep!
And that poisoned black dagger had already pierced his waist before his spear could fully unleash its power!
Ye Zhong's spear deviated, pierced into the ground beside the cloth strips of Wu Zhu's broken leg. Immediately after, a scream that was extremely shrill rang out in the rain. He abandoned his spear and returned his palm, slapping it onto the shoulder of the ascetic. With the release of the Great Coffin Split, the ascetic's shoulder shattered instantly!
However, the ascetic didn't groan or feel pain, as if he was an insensible wooden man, enduring Ye Zhong's palm strike from a Grade Nine Upper Realm expert. Amidst the spurting of blood, he pushed the dagger in his hand forward again, completely breaking through Ye Zhong's armor defense and severely injuring his abdomen!
A wave of energy exploded between the two of them, shaking the Qing army experts beside them to the ground. The two of them, like a large bird and its shadow, quickly flew out from their horses and crashed into the rain, not knowing how many layers of rain curtain they had shattered, and flew into the distance...
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Ye Zhong was crippled, at least for today. The one who attacked was Shadow. When that ascetic silently deceived the eyes of the many experts of Southern Qing in the arena, and used the rain to approach the rear of Ye Zhong, Fan Xian, who had been hidden in the dark watching everything in the arena, immediately smelled a strange atmosphere. This was a kind of innate keenness of the people in the Supervisory Council, and probably only he and Shadow could do this in the world.
Fan Xian had not contacted Shadow since entering Kyoto, because even he didn't know where Shadow had been hiding this year, but he knew that Shadow must be unwilling. This world's number one assassin must avenge Chen Pingping. So today, when there was a great chaos in the palace, Fan Xian knew very well that Shadow, who was nowhere to be found, would definitely look for an opportunity to strike, but he never thought that Shadow would actually be mixed in with the group of ascetics.
A year ago, the two of them had fought a great battle with the ascetics. How could Shadow mix in? Fan Xian couldn't understand this point either, but at least at this moment, Shadow had successfully eliminated the number one expert by Emperor Qing's side, and had shifted the odds of winning a lot towards their side.
If it were any other action in the past, the one who could make Shadow strike would definitely be the most important target in the mission. This was something that even Fan Xian couldn't compete with him for, just like the last sword strike when he entered the palace to assassinate. However, today, Shadow silently retreated, actively choosing Ye Zhong, because he discovered that the First Supervisory Council Director, Wu Daren, had come. Shadow, who regarded Wu Zhu as his idol all his life, naturally chose to cooperate with Wu Zhu.
This was actually a kind of trust.
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Fan Xian's gaze only glanced at Ye Zhong and Shadow, who were crashing through the rain curtain and constantly rushing backwards away from the battlefield, and then turned back to the arena in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
The moment Ye Zhong was assassinated, the crowd in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony inevitably panicked a little, and the offensive towards Wu Zhu's inconvenient body also became slightly chaotic. The only one who didn't panic was His Majesty the Emperor. He didn't bother with the ascetic's attack at all, but just stared at Wu Zhu's hand.
The Emperor's eyes were only on Wu Zhu.
The extremely hard iron rod was now bent, broken, and worn smooth, looking like an extremely ordinary fire poker, but this fire poker was driving the rainwater in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, splashing freely in the air.
With a crack, the iron rod deflected a long spear in front of him, and then in the shortest amount of time, along the most reasonable direction, it hit the wrist of the person holding the spear. In that instant, the skin on the wrist of the person holding the spear burst open, the muscles were shattered, the bones protruded, and he could no longer hold the spear.
With a crack, the iron rod slid up along the surface of a sword, the heavy pressure pressing the sword down. The already blunt iron rod touched the protruding part of the sword, and suddenly jumped up, then fell heavily, hitting the forearm of the sword holder, directly turning this forearm into twisted firewood.
An ascetic waved his palm to block, and the iron rod head, which had been ground flat, pierced fiercely into his palm, pinning his palm to the ground full of rainwater. Then the iron rod was swung up and heavily struck on the ascetic's head. The straw hat shattered into countless pieces with a crack, revealing a stick mark formed by blood on the ascetic's smooth head. The cervical spine made a cracking sound, and he collapsed into the rainwater.
Every swing of the iron rod was so accurate, so heavy. The iron rod, which had long been blunt, had now become an iron staff in Wu Zhu's hands, deflecting the dense swords in front of him, smashing countless joints, and allowing blood to mix with rainwater, splashing in the air in front of him.
The iron rod could no longer stab into the throats of the countless experts in the imperial palace, but it could shatter their throats. Wu Zhu, who was struggling to move forward in the rain, seemed to be able to fall down at any time, but in the end, it was the experts who bravely blocked in front of the Emperor who fell down!
At this moment, Wu Zhu seemed to have become the stern teacher on the cliff. Every blow of his stick would accurately land on Fan Xian's body. No matter how Fan Xian dodged, he could never escape it for eternity. It was just that today, the wooden stick had become an iron stick.
With a muffled sound, a palace guard's cartilage on his kneecap was shattered by the iron rod, and he knelt down beside Wu Zhu. The iron rod was swung down again, directly smashing this person down the stone steps, splashing a ground of rainwater.
Wu Zhu had finally stood in front of the Emperor.
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Without hesitation, without cursing, without eye contact, Wu Zhu raised his hand and struck the Emperor's face with the iron rod in his hand.
No one in the world dared to hit His Majesty the Emperor's face, but Wu Zhu did it just like that, and hit it so naturally, as if he was teaching an unfilial son, or as if he was going to beat a heartless man.
When Wu Zhu stood in front of His Majesty the Emperor, His Majesty the Emperor's pupils shrank slightly, and a certain radiance suddenly bloomed on his slightly aging face. Then he also raised his hand.
In the instant before even the raindrops could tremble, His Majesty the Emperor's left hand, which had been hanging by his side, suddenly appeared beside his face, his palm facing outwards, blocking the iron rod!
At the same instant, His Majesty the Emperor's right hand clenched into a fist and fiercely smashed into Wu Zhu's chest!
His most terrifying hands, as white as snow, seemed to never be stained with dust or blood, blocked Wu Zhu's iron rod and struck Wu Zhu's body!
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The last two peerless powerhouses in the human world who had surpassed the scope of humanity clashed for the first time, and it was so simple. They each just swung a blow, blocked a palm, and threw a punch.
However, no one other than the two of them could have blocked that iron rod and thrown that punch.
The Emperor's terrifying fist fiercely smashed into Wu Zhu's chest!
The air seemed to freeze at this moment. Wu Zhu's body seemed to strangely hover in the air at this moment, and then like an arrow, he was fiercely smashed out, like a heavy and hard meteorite, flying out from the stone steps!
Wu Zhu's body, which was knocked away, smashed through countless Southern Qing experts who had rushed to intercept him along the way. In front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony in the imperial palace, only black shadows passed by, and flesh and blood flew everywhere!
With a muffled sound, Wu Zhu's body finally landed dozens of feet away, heavily falling to the ground, shaking the world around him for a while.
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The arena fell into a strange silence. There were not many people left who could still live and stand at this time. Below the Hall of Supreme Harmony, on the stone steps, in the light rain, the lonely Emperor, the proud Emperor, still maintained the posture of one palm protecting his front and one fist extending into the air.
Knocking Wu Zhu down with one punch was something worth being proud of for Emperor Qing, but there was not a trace of emotion on his face. Instead, a hint of coldness appeared in his eyes.
Wu Zhu's iron rod shattered the majestic True Qi attached to Emperor Qing's palm and fiercely struck Emperor Qing's face.
Emperor Qing's face was very pale at this time, but his left cheek was swollen and red, and blood flowed from the corner of his lips, as if he had been heavily slapped in the face.
He slowly retracted his left hand and looked down at the iron rod marks on the palm of his hand. Only then did he realize that Wu Zhu's iron rod was already bent.
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Wu Zhu, in the pool of blood and rainwater, suddenly moved, and then stood up with great difficulty, hunched over, his hand holding the iron rod trembled as it stood on the ground, supporting his precarious body, and stood up in the rain.
It was so difficult to walk so far, to reach the Emperor's presence, but he was knocked back by the Emperor with one punch. This was something that could make everyone despair. However, there was no change on Wu Zhu's face. He just dragged his more crippled left leg again, and with a more difficult posture and a slower speed, walked towards the bright yellow figure under the Hall of Supreme Harmony again.
At this moment, the heavy rain that had been falling all morning suddenly stopped, the clouds in the sky gradually thinned, and the vision in the imperial palace gradually became clear, as if it was about to clear up.