Volume One, Chapter 77: A Formal Proposal—Agreeing to Register the Marriage
"This is the bond between master craftsmen and the Nine Clans in ancient times, isn't it?" Yan Qiuning made a joke; such supreme treasures are truly priceless, and anyone who lays eyes on them cannot help but covet them.
From the slight furrow in their target's brow, it was clear that the other party did not appreciate this feeling.
Zhang Jingzong also brought twenty members of the Yellow Gate, all of whom had undergone the grand etiquette training within the palace. They managed the schedule, arranged the seating, distributed documents, and inspected the main hall prepared for Zhao Zhen’s visit. Satisfied with everything, Zhang Jingzong simply left these attendants behind to respond to any need.
The next day was the Mid-Autumn Festival. In the afternoon, Fan Zhongyan and Fu Bi each arrived at the Liang residence bearing gifts. Both men were always frugal, so their gifts were merely two jars of fine wine—a gesture more than anything else. With a friendship such as theirs, material offerings mattered little.
Yet, in this pit nearly a hundred meters deep, stretching several li in length and width, there was not the slightest hint of anything simple.
"I swear to you, this matter truly has nothing to do with me, not a single coin! If I am even the least bit involved, may I be struck by five thunders from the heavens!" Gu Jian, desperate in his own right, raised his hand to the sky and swore to prove his innocence.
But it made no difference. When Li Kuafu lowered his right arm, Nangong Ni was reduced to ashes, leaving not a trace behind.
If he had brought out that mid-grade spirit treasure flying sword, the one he refused to forge after triggering his perfectionist talent, would they have been so shocked as to suffer heart attacks?
The poor Russians—at this point in history, even eating bread with salt was a luxury. If they could have beef stew with potatoes, or potatoes stewed with beef, it would be a feast beyond measure.
Cui Fengxian offered no further explanation and quietly asked, "Master Xu, would you mind asking again if he has any companions still awaiting rescue?" Xu Erzheng nodded, bent down, and spoke once more. The man appeared utterly exhausted; hearing the question, he only slowly shook his head, then closed his eyes and lay still, unmoving.
In front of the screen, someone recognized Li Kuafu, and word quickly spread. Those on the brink of despair found a new glimmer of hope.
How long had it been, barely two months? The Yulin Guards, who should have been Empress Wu Zetian's personal protectors, were now so loyal to Li Dongsheng that they dared to defy even her imperial edict.
In fact, Li Dongsheng had seldom come into direct conflict with the Five Surnamed Nobles. Those who had previously clashed with him were merely upstart aristocrats whose families had risen alongside the Tang dynasty—not only lacking the heritage, connections, and wealth of the Five Surnamed Clans, but far inferior in every respect.
Yet at that moment, Aiolia had no mind to admire the strange spectacle before him. When he saw Stuart’s movements, he was shocked—Stuart was preparing to cast a second forbidden spell.
Zhang Qiang led a group of Ming military officers to a well-preserved section of the second outer city wall to observe the battle.
Who was the ugly man? I already had a vague guess in my mind, but the fact that he allowed Rong Rong to enter left me at a complete loss for words.
Back when he was the top among the outer sect disciples, he had seen a bright future ahead. Little did he imagine that after a single turn, his cultivation would stall completely, leaving him no choice but to seek refuge with Gu Jinbo.
"Heh, you should be grateful that your body has lost most of its sensation. Otherwise, you’d be feeling the lingering agony all over again. You’ve already experienced that pain once, haven’t you?" Yis replied with a half-smile.
"It’s good that you can recognize this. The next round should be the lance—why don’t you take the field?" Li Dongsheng said.