Honestly, Yu Xuanyue really did resemble Ling Xiao.
Or rather, he resembled her.
What was going on?
He couldn’t quite grasp it.
Could it be… no, no, impossible.
Ling Xiao shook his head, giving a wry smile.
They passed the statues and reached a lavishly decorated corridor. Yun Ya smiled and said, “The Holy Emperor invited only you and a few young talents, I’m not included, so we part here.”
With that, she gracefully departed.
Ling Xiao looked at the palace ahead, sensing several familiar auras, likely from opponents he faced in today’s Martial Arts Festival finals.
It seemed the emperor had invited many, not just him, easing his concerns.
At the palace entrance, he nearly stepped inside when a figure forcefully bumped into him, trying to shove him aside.
Ling Xiao wasn’t one to be trifled with. Facing someone so rude, he wouldn’t yield.
The person, failing to push Ling Xiao aside, grew furious and pointed at his nose, cursing, “Get lost, you dare block this young master’s path? Seeking death?”
Ling Xiao frowned.
He’d met arrogant people, but encountering someone in the palace who was clearly in the wrong yet blamed him was a first.
He glanced at the person.
Handsome, with a face as fair as a woman’s, dressed in high-quality fabric unaffordable to most.
The person glared at him like a proud rooster, eyes filled with resentment.
Ling Xiao didn’t recognise him, as he wasn’t a finalist in the festival.
“Idiot!”
Ling Xiao couldn’t be bothered with such a fool. Since this was the palace, he didn’t want trouble over something trivial, so he stepped toward the palace, treating the fool like air.
“Scoundrel, I told you to get lost, are you deaf?”
The fair-faced youth was enraged.
In this palace, even the Holy Son gave him some respect. Who was this nobody daring to ignore him?
He was here on imperial orders to reward the festival’s prodigies, yet this arrogant fool refused to yield?
This wasn’t just disrespecting him, but the Holy Emperor himself.
The youth not only shouted at Ling Xiao but also attacked.
His fair hand turned claw-like, grabbing at Ling Xiao’s shoulder with terrifying celestial essence at his fingertips.
This seemingly delicate youth was a Celestial Vein martial artist.
However, Ling Xiao merely glanced back, his eyes radiating cold, murderous sword intent, forcing the youth to stagger back several steps.
Terrifying, such fearsome will. Who was this person?
The youth stared at Ling Xiao, trembling.
Ling Xiao stood like a demonic sword ready to unsheathe and drink blood, too daunting for the youth to provoke.
“This is the palace, so you kept your life. In the martial world, treating a stronger martial artist like this would mean death! Next time, look at yourself in a puddle before acting!”
Ling Xiao snapped, turning to enter the palace.
The youth stood stunned, only reacting after a moment.
“He dared lecture me? He’s younger than me, yet he spoke like that? Even my father doesn’t scold me so!”
The youth’s face twisted with rage.
A favourite of the Holy Emperor, he had never faced such humiliation.
“You bastard, what’s your name!”
Roaring, the youth charged into the palace.
Ling Xiao completely ignored the insolent youth. He was holding back, as killing or injuring someone in the palace wouldn’t do. He didn’t want trouble.
He wasn’t impulsive, quite the opposite, he had a strong sense of the bigger picture.
The palace was opulent, beyond anything Ling Xiao had seen, with gold seats and jade beds.
Even teacups and wine pots were crafted from top-grade spirit stones, true works of art.
In the main hall, thinly clad women danced gracefully, their every move enchanting.
Many had arrived before Ling Xiao. Of the twenty prodigies, only Lan Yuer was absent, healing in seclusion.
Jian Wuji’s half-puppet body had been upgraded, tougher than during the day, with higher technological enhancements.
Ling Xiao didn’t look at him, but Jian Wuji’s hateful gaze seemed to want to tear him apart.
The commotion outside had stirred the hall, and someone was about to investigate when Ling Xiao entered.
Some smiled at him, others remained indifferent, some mocked, and others showed hatred.
“Greetings, Your Majesty the Holy Emperor!” Ling Xiao bowed.
“Hmph, you see His Majesty and don’t kneel?” Mo Wushang said coldly from his seat.
“The Holy Dynasty’s rules state that prodigies need not kneel to the emperor. Is your knee so weak you must kneel to others?” Ling Xiao replied calmly.
“Enough, no need to argue over trifles. Ling Xiao, come, sit beside me,” the Holy Emperor said amiably, smiling.
Ling Xiao was puzzled. Why was the emperor so courteous today? Was it really due to his stellar performance in the finals?
Shaking his head, unable to figure it out, he decided not to dwell on it. He didn’t hesitate, as there were two empty seats beside the emperor, and sitting there was fine.
But at that moment, the youth Ling Xiao had repelled stormed in, burning with rage, his fierce aura charging at Ling Xiao.
In front of the emperor and the twenty prodigies, he showed no restraint, suggesting his status was significant.
Some in the crowd gloated.
Ling Xiao daring to offend this person was like eating a bear’s heart or leopard’s guts. Even the Holy Son was polite to him.
“Courting death!”
After repeated provocations, Ling Xiao’s patience ran out.
He reached out, a qi sword forming at his fingertip.
“Ling Xiao, show mercy,” the Holy Emperor’s voice rang out. “Hua Yu, you stop too. Ling Xiao is my guest, don’t be rude!”
On the surface, he didn’t favour either, but his words saved Hua Yu’s life, as Ling Xiao’s qi sword would have killed him otherwise.
