219: With one slap, it was earth-shattering!

The ten-day deadline had just passed the corner tower of the Great Zhou Imperial City, which had already lost its usual order.

Vermilion Bird Street, from the intersection to the palace wall, was so crowded that even the wind had to bypass it.

Peddlers with their carrying poles had long since thrown them by the roadside, craning their necks to get closer to the center.

The old man selling candy figures had stuck his straw pole, filled with candy figurines, against the wall and was stroking his beard, staring at the very front of the crowd.

Even the Imperial Guards, who usually guarded the gates of the residential areas, had retreated to the street edge, clutching their saber hilts, watching as Cultivators, some in green robes with hair tied up, others in black robes with faces concealed, swept past their feet, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Because of this ten-day agreement, several Star-Picking Towers had been built overnight around the Imperial City, from which one could overlook the interior of the Imperial Palace.

Li Hentian and Wang Ning met on a Star-Picking Tower, then tacitly sat at the same table, looking out the window, anticipating the coming great battle.

They were both cold people, so they just sat there quietly, neither of them speaking.

"Strange..." a purple-robed Cultivator in the corner whispered, his gaze flickering towards Li Hentian and Wang Ning, "Isn't that 'Fallen Immortal'? Rumor has it that she is one of the few Prodigies of the Righteous Path in the Great Zhou Dynasty, with white hair, specializing in killing those of the Demonic Path. How is she sitting with that 'Demonic Woman'?"

These years, Li Hentian, in her pursuit of strength and revenge, had killed without distinguishing between righteous and evil, so being called a 'Demonic Woman' now was not an exaggeration.

"Who knows," another Cultivator nearby whispered, "Could it be that they've taken a liking to each other?"

"After all, they do look somewhat like a perfect match."

Just as the murmurs began, a furious roar suddenly erupted from the tower entrance, making the window frames hum: "Li Hentian! You beast! Pay with my grandson's life!"

Everyone turned to look, only to see a gray-robed old man with bloodshot eyes rush in, clutching a short saber. The blade was wrapped in the spiritual power of a Golden Core Stage Cultivator, aiming directly for Li Hentian's heart.

This old man was an Elder of the Chen family from Zhongzhou, a Nascent Soul family. His direct descendant and only grandson had gone out for training a few days ago, only to be found dead in a mass grave outside the city, his body shriveled, all his vital essence and spiritual power completely absorbed.

At the time, he had guessed it was Li Hentian who did it. After days of inquiries, he finally cornered her at the Star-Picking Tower.

Li Hentian didn't even lift her eyelids. She lightly tapped the edge of the table with her finger, and an invisible spiritual barrier blocked her front.

Chen Ze's Magic Treasure struck the barrier, bouncing off with a "clang" that numbed his tiger's mouth, but he still charged forward with bloodshot eyes: "My grandson had no grievances with you! To become stronger, you even absorbed the vital essence of Righteous Path Cultivators! Today, I will risk my life to avenge him!"

"Brother Chen," someone beside him suddenly spoke, "Rumor has it that this 'Demonic Woman' is the Disciple of Ice Peak Zhenren, Li Xiangyun! Today is the day Immortal Master Li fulfills his ten-day promise. If you act against him now, what if you touch Immortal Master Li's reverse scale...?"

At these words, Chen Ze's steps abruptly halted with a "swish."

Li Hentian killed his grandson; this revenge he could not forgo. But Li Xiangyun's reputation, he dared not provoke even more.

After all, ten years ago, Li Xiangyun had fought a Nascent Soul Cultivator. Now, ten years later, since he dared to declare war on the Great Zhou Dynasty, his strength must be considerable.

Chen Ze stood frozen, the veins on his hand gripping the Magic Treasure bulging, the bloodshot in his eyes almost seeping out.

Pressed by the title of "Li Xiangyun's Disciple," he couldn't take the step to avenge himself, yet his grandson's shriveled corpse kept flashing before his eyes. His throat rolled, and he finally couldn't help but spit out:

"What Ice Peak Zhenren! To raise such a Devil Head who absorbs vital essence, he must not be anything good either!"

As soon as these words fell, the air in the Star-Picking Tower suddenly turned cold.

Li Hentian, who had been twirling something with her fingertips and looking out the window, suddenly turned her head.

Her usually indifferent eyes slowly turned, and the Demonic Qi beneath her black robe surged with a "boom." Black spiritual power crawled along the table edge, instantly covering the hard wooden table with a layer of grayish-black frost.

She didn't speak, but the malevolent Aura around her, threatening to tear people apart, was more terrifying than the previous roar.

Although at the Foundation Establishment Peak, Li Hentian's Aura at this moment was stronger than that of a Golden Core Cultivator.

This was the power of the "Devouring Heaven Demon Art"; even if the opponent was Golden Core, Li Hentian still did not fear a battle.

Chen Ze's legs went soft under the pressure of this Aura. Just as he was about to retreat, a cold light suddenly flashed before his eyes.

The light was as fast as a meteor across the sky. With only a soft "hiss," no one even saw when Wang Ning drew his saber.

His previously slouched posture had straightened at some point. He held a dark red long saber, its blade so bright it could reflect the window frames.

Immediately, the spiritual power of the Mid-stage Golden Core, wrapped in the saber wind, swept past, creating a sharp whistling sound.

The next moment, a dull thud, "thump."

Chen Ze's head rolled to the ground, his eyes still wide open, blood spurting half a foot high from his neck, yet not a drop splattered on Wang Ning.

He flipped his wrist, and the short saber returned to its sheath, his movements as clean as if he had merely brushed dust from his clothes.

The tower was dead silent.

The Cultivators who had been discussing moments before didn't dare to breathe, their eyes filled with terror as they looked at Wang Ning.

Everyone knew he was ruthless, never showing mercy when killing Demonic Path Cultivators. But they hadn't expected him to be so swift and decisive; a Mid-stage Golden Core Cultivator killing another Golden Core Cultivator so quickly that there was no room to react.

"Who told you to strike?"

A cold voice broke the silence.

Li Hentian stared at Wang Ning, the Demonic Qi beneath her black robe not yet reined in, her brows furrowed with clear anger, "This is my business."

Wang Ning, however, nonchalantly sat back in his original seat, picked up the wine gourd from the table, took a sip, and spoke in a faint, indifferent voice:

"Because it was noisy!"

In the high sky above the Imperial Palace on the other side, the clouds parted, creating a gap by an invisible spiritual force.

Li Xiangyun stood with his hands behind his back on the cloud's Peak, his plain robe fluttering in the fierce wind, with layers of palace walls beneath his feet.

The Imperial Guards' armor glinted coldly in the sunlight, archers nocked arrows imbued with spiritual power, and even beneath the palace eaves, there were traces of hidden guards. The dense precautions were like a tightly woven net, yet they could not block his gaze.

His gaze pierced through the palace walls, landing in the most majestic hall.

A person sat on the Dragon Throne, the bright yellow Dragon Robe contrasting with the frost-like hair at his temples—it was Emperor Yongchang.

He had not summoned civil and military officials, nor had he allowed guards to stand by his side. He sat alone, his fingertips gently tapping the armrest of the Dragon Throne, as if waiting for a long-overdue rain.

Li Xiangyun did not look further.

He raised his hand, palm facing downwards. There was no earth-shattering incantation of a Magic Technique, nor a dazzling explosion of spiritual light, but as his palm descended, the clouds in the high sky suddenly condensed into a bluish-black.

The spiritual power above the Imperial City surged with a "boom," like a pond struck by a giant rock.

That power was not a violent collision, but it carried an immense pressure, sinking straight down from the high sky.

One palm strike, shaking heaven and earth!