The streets fell silent in an instant.
Onlookers, stunned and terrified, scattered in a panic, desperate to avoid being dragged into the mess.
Chang’an, the Emperor’s seat, wasn’t above covert thuggery or hired killings, but beating Imperial Guards in broad daylight under heaven’s gaze was shocking.
“Thank you, young master, for your aid. This maid is endlessly grateful,” said the girl in a goose-yellow gauze skirt, her appearance lovely, draped in a vest, her pleated skirt slightly curved as she bowed respectfully.
“Helping the wronged is a hero’s duty. A dear friend of mine loves to say that. If she were here, she’d have acted too,” Ji Yanqing said with a smile.
The maid outside was a Demon Sect sword attendant, so the sedan likely held the Demon Sect’s saintess. Luckily, he arrived in time for this “chance encounter” before she reached Xiaoxiang Pavilion.
Even if she’d entered the pavilion, Ji Yanqing had ways to meet the alluring beauty before her debut, though it’d be more troublesome and lack the strong first impression.
In Canglan Goddess Chronicles, Chang’an was a mid-game map, its plots less gentle than early ones. Mishandling the Demon Sect’s poison bell event could doom half the city.
Ji Yanqing didn’t see himself as a hero, but with the key to saving millions in his grasp, how could he stay unmoved?
With the original male lead long buried, relying on a dead man to thwart the Demon Sect was a tall order. Better for this yellow-haired villain to step in.
As for rewards, claiming the male lead’s fated opportunities wasn’t too much, right?
The dead couldn’t use them. Better he, the villain, take them than let others benefit. At least he’d have heroines cheering his arrival.
‘Sigh, I’m truly a righteous gentleman’, Ji Yanqing thought, when a languid yet commanding female voice, melodious as a nightingale and sultry, drifted from the sedan:
“This humble one thanks you for your rescue, but I’m unwell. The doctor forbids wind exposure, so I cannot alight to thank you in person. Please forgive me.”
“No matter, just a small effort,” Ji Yanqing replied calmly, his eyes clear and composed.
A pair of purple, starry eyes, shimmering like autumn waters, peeked through the sedan’s curtain. Seeing the white-robed youth unfazed, Lingque was briefly stunned. This isn’t right.
As the Demon Sect’s saintess, Lingque had mastered the Charming Shadow Art to perfection, her every gesture exuding irresistible allure.
Not to mention her veiled beauty, her voice alone had enthralled countless men.
Yet this youth showed no hint of infatuation…
Smiling coyly, her purple eyes gleamed with subtle delight. An intriguing man…
“May my benefactor share his name, so I can hold it in my heart?” she asked.
“Just a passing gentleman,” Ji Yanqing replied, turning away, leaving only his silhouette in her gaze.
Clop, clop, clop…
Hooves thundered. Looking down the street, a dense crowd parted for a troop of light-armored cavalry, black-armored halberdiers weaving through, archers at the rear—a vast military formation advancing.
“Miss Lingque, you go. I’ll take responsibility for injuring the guards. It’s unrelated to you,” Ji Yanqing said resolutely.
“Please… be careful,” Lingque replied, longing to stay with the youth against the looming army.
But as the Demon Sect’s saintess, she had a critical mission in the Central Plains, requiring utmost secrecy to avoid the court’s watchdogs.
With a reluctant glance, she let the sedan carry her into an unblocked alley.
A richly dressed young man on a tall horse, Xie Ling, deputy captain of the Censorate, had rushed to summon troops. Dignified in appearance, his father was retired, but the Gusu Xie surname alone commanded respect, even from the Censorate’s deputy commander.
Beating Imperial Guards in Chang’an’s streets—an egregious crime—fell into his lap. No questions needed; he could execute the culprit on the spot and claim merit.
A free achievement—he wouldn’t let it slip.
Seeing the culprit waiting, Xie Ling’s face darkened. The audacity of this criminal, showing no regard for the Censorate!
A wicked smile crept up. Another self-righteous “hero” seeking fame in Chang’an, no doubt.
In his years of service, Xie Ling had seen many such martial wanderers—easily broken, groveling like mice before cats.
What a show awaited.
Within ten zhang of the culprit, Xie Ling slowed, barking arrogantly, “Bold villain, surrender now!”
Ji Yanqing extended his divine sense, catching every rustle within three li. Soon, his Soul-Condensing Nether Art would break through to the third layer.
Confirming a certain presence, he smiled, dragging his cloth-wrapped ferocious sword behind him as he strolled forward.
Xie Ling’s eyes flashed with fear. Not only did the culprit not flee, but he approached!
Was this a hidden master, youthful only by some special technique? If he had Transformation Realm strength, Xie Ling’s life was at stake.
But closer inspection revealed only Radiant Sun Realm cultivation, unstable, recently broken through—slightly stronger than Xie Ling.
Only one explanation: the culprit was surrendering.
As Xie Ling prepared to accept with superiority, the youth flipped his wrist, the cloth-wrapped heavy sword sweeping toward his waist.
Xie Ling’s mind blurred, half-dreaming, as if his long-dead great-grandmother beckoned.
Thud—
His armored body crashed from the horse, sharp pain snapping him awake. He saw it was just a palm strike breaking the air.
Slap!
A crisp sound, a red palm print blooming on Xie Ling’s face.
“You dare hit me, peasant? I’m from Gusu Xie…” he roared.
Slap!
The left cheek, louder still.
“Gusu Xie? Even Lanling Xiao’s direct line gets no mercy from this Heir!” Ji Yanqing spat, his tone dripping with disdain.