Order 81: The Prohibition of Instruction

The imperial family of Tianyuan could provide resources for their descendants, but would never dispatch masters to seek private revenge on behalf of any prince. All grudges had to be resolved personally—this was a rule laid down by the royal house over a millennium ago, and it was precisely this tradition that emboldened Mo Fan to act so recklessly.

“So, the mage who drew such a talisman must be highly accomplished?” A glimmer of hope lit up Ye Chen’s eyes.

Over on Zhou Changcun’s side, it was almost time to begin the farming. Back then, they had been allotted two acres of wasteland and two acres of vegetable plots. Now, a variety of vegetables had already been planted in the gardens.

Those who came here to buy medicine would purchase it in small amounts—no one would ever bring a sack, as if shopping for diamonds, to carry it away.

Thus, tomorrow’s most crucial vote would come from the entire Fengchuan family; whoever they supported would become the village chief of Nanxi Village.

Jiang Feng merely gestured with his hand, and at once, a tremendous surge of energy radiated from his body, instantly suppressing the restlessness of the many powerful figures present, compelling them all to silence.

Another servant, realizing he had misjudged the situation today, suspected that Qin Tian possessed an elusive movement technique unknown to them. He struck out with all his might.

Di Yunfeng was extremely busy, but he had truly spent ten days cleaning the entire Hanfeng Hall from inside out: the west wing, the east wing, the main hall, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the outhouse, the floors, the beams... Every grimy corner was now spotless under his care.

—Yellow clouds stretch for a thousand miles as daylight dims, the north wind sweeps wild geese as snow flurries fall. Fret not for friends unknown along your path; who in this world has not heard your name?

For over a day thereafter, public opinion continued to ferment, but no further developments occurred.

“Qingcheng, you and Simu married in such haste—have you any plans for the wedding?” He Yuankang inquired.

A beam of light solidified into a shield, mist swirling about it, instantly repelling the searing heat and blocking the flames.

Mu Sheng entered as well. When he saw Mu Chen, his expression grew a bit awkward. Mu Xue couldn’t help but smile inwardly at this—they were, after all, brothers, and their tacit understanding was extraordinary.

Even with all her cunning, she had been outmaneuvered by Chu Fan this time. Biting her lip so hard that blood seeped out, her chest heaved like a bellows.

Murong Jin swung down from his horse. The man beside him did likewise, pulling back the hood covering his head. Zhang Yi’s jaw nearly dropped in astonishment.

The guards held Su Qianqian in custody, awaiting orders. Zhao Yu’s intervention made the guards halt, stopping them from taking Su Qianqian away.

The giant of light erupted with a terrifying, sovereign aura, as if the will of all things in the world could not defy him.

Ning Yudong did not spend the solstice with her, but sent a message: “From tomorrow, the days grow long, the nights grow short; the cold moon and warm sun press upon our years. Take care.”

Lu Song thought this was a rather good idea, but his curiosity was piqued. Zhang Min was so fond of Rui Xue Group, and now all it would take was a word from him—why had she never mentioned it?

Long Tianyu was now in a predicament—clearly, he had miscalculated. He had intended to fight a guerrilla war, but now he was trapped by this Myriad Poison Array. There was no way to withdraw; he could only face it head-on.

Zhao Yi, unable to stand his smugness, rushed forward, but Zhang He was ready and pushed him back before he could get close.

In this world, it was rare to find someone who shared her views, so although Yue Si’s replies were always terse, Leng Nian was still eager to communicate with her.

“Mr. Su, I acknowledged your unparalleled talent, not wanting China to lose a genius, but your behavior is simply too unreasonable,” Ji Qian Gu said coldly to Su Chen.

Alice fell silent at these words, her gaze shifting to Xiao Se, as if seeking his opinion.

After those words, Qiu Wanyue laughed. In that instant, it felt as if they had returned to years past—back when their arguments always began this way.

“With all your muddling and obfuscation, aren’t you afraid of retribution?” someone angrily rebuked.

If one looked closely, they would see a thin membrane of light clinging to his body, continuously shattered and reformed by the wind and rain.

Brilliant sword energy surged forward, blasting a hundred meters through the rear wall. The Ghost Ancestor stared dully at the bloody hole in his chest.

The blistering heat surged wave after wave, each more terrifying than the last. Even at a considerable distance, I could feel my eyebrows curling from the intensity.

“Trade? Of course!” The weasel, having struck it rich, feared I would regret it and hurriedly tried to hand over the hairpin.

She hesitated for a moment, then proceeded according to protocol, biting her lip as she tied the red string and continued the conversation. Yet after all her fuss, nothing happened—the process was as uneventful as handling an ordinary corpse.

Upon arrival, there was already a crowd gathered, watching the spectacle. These people had grown numb, treating the battles between priests and demons as everyday entertainment, gathering to watch out of curiosity.

One was a middle-aged man with half his body exposed, covered in tattoos—upon close inspection, they were all sorts of dragons, black and vivid, with a black serpent coiled around his arm.

This man was Felik, the highest commander of the Tess City Divine Guard Bureau, his strength already at the mid-stage of the Human Extreme realm.

Two thousand years ago, when Liu Cheng slew his senior brother, the sight had so shocked him that he vomited blood. Ever since, Liu Cheng had avoided recalling that incident. If things continued this way, I would again overpower Liu Cheng’s aura, and perhaps, history would repeat itself.

Even now, though Mr. J’s potential had soared under the effect of secret arts to the Great Perfection stage, he knew deep down he could never be a match for Lord Ghost Venerable.