Chapter 126: Shall I Deduct a Hundred Heads? The Chanting Intensifies

Chapter 126: Should I Bow One Hundred Times? Repeatedly Chanting “Grandfather”

“Hmph—” Wu Hong abruptly turned his head, casting a cold glare at Eunuch Li, letting out a contemptuous snort.

Eunuch Li’s face immediately darkened; he had suffered a heavy blow. What was Wu Hong’s cultivation level now? He had nearly reached an invincible realm.

Sweat soaked through Li’s garments as he dared not speak another word, not even daring to show a trace of resentment on his face. Wu Hong’s current status and identity were vastly different—not only was his martial prowess formidable, but his rank was nearly equal to Emperor Yang Wei himself. To order the death of anyone was merely a matter of a single command!

The degree of power he wielded was staggering. Yet all of this had unfolded only a few hours prior.

Yang Wei couldn’t help but wonder: if all these masters truly united in concert, adding tens of thousands of the Imperial Guard, could they really take down Wu Hong?

“Ha ha—Wu—Your Highness—long time no see!” Huang Hu exclaimed upon hearing Wu Hong recount his acquaintance with Huang Ling.

At once, he was certain that the handsome man before him was indeed the same Wu Hong from before. The one who had been roaming the martial world resembling Wu Hong was merely an impostor.

But seeing Wu Hong’s current rank and stature, Huang Hu’s words shifted mid-sentence, elevating Wu Hong’s title to “Prince Wu.”

Huang Ling resumed her usual cold demeanor, yet her eyes sparkled with a myriad of colors, fixated unwaveringly on Wu Hong.

Wang Biluo sidled up to Wu Songran and whispered, “Sister, your lover is a prince? You truly have many suitors.”

All of them were as fair as celestial maidens! You must be careful, sister.

Though Wang Biluo’s teasing tone hinted at jest, Wu Songran felt an unprecedented sense of danger, her gaze locked firmly on Huang Ling—a woman of a peculiar aura.

Those who came later to pay respects witnessed everything and gradually understood the situation, feeling somewhat relieved. If the man with a stellar reputation in the martial world was the true Wu Hong, then their common enemy was the fake Wu Hong, rendering past grievances meaningless.

Their anger soon calmed, and one by one, they stepped forward to respectfully pay homage.

As for the new Emperor Yang Wei, the various sect leaders naturally performed the customary triple kowtow with nine head knocks, and the same was due for Wu Hong. Yet Wu Hong showed no arrogance, allowing all to forgo the ritual bows—though there were exceptions.

“Leader of the Qingyang Sect, Qingyang Zi, approach and pay respects!” Eunuch Li announced loudly.

Qingyang Zi shuffled forward, his corpulent frame bearing a sour expression. He offered the grand salute to Yang Wei, but before Wu Hong, he attempted only a simple bow and sought to stand aside, refusing to kneel.

“Hmph—how rude of you. Are you dissatisfied with me?” Wu Hong’s face darkened as he stepped down from the dragon throne once more.

Qingyang Zi’s expression turned ghastly. His Qingyang Sect had fought fiercely against Wu Hong at Blackwood Cliff, earning Wu Hong’s deep enmity. Moreover, Qingyang Zi never restrained his disciples; their misdeeds in the martial world were even more despicable than some demonic cultists.

Wu Hong bore no goodwill toward him; the moment he saw Qingyang Zi approach, he immediately challenged him.

Qingyang Zi’s face grew ashen, trembling all over. He wanted to retaliate but glanced around at the crowd and realized any insubordination would prompt a swift and brutal counterattack, reducing him to nothing.

Helpless, Qingyang Zi lowered his noble head and fell to his knees, saying, “Congratulations to Prince Wuwei on your promotion—” Then, he began the kowtowing ritual.

He knocked his head on the ground nine times in succession. As he was about to rise, he suddenly felt a powerful surge of true qi pressing down on him. Alarmed, he attempted to resist.

“Do you wish to resist? Resistance is a capital offense. I never permitted you to rise!” Wu Hong’s cold voice echoed into Qingyang Zi’s ears.

Qingyang Zi wanted to retort defiantly but was now thoroughly frightened. Wu Hong’s voice held no emotion whatsoever.

He knew that any hint of defiance would condemn him to eternal hell, with no hope of redemption or burial.

“Your Highness, please forgive my past offenses. I humbly ask for your mercy,” Qingyang Zi pleaded.

Such was imperial authority, such was the power of Prince Wuwei. As a sect leader without official rank, at the end of the day, he was merely a subject of the Great Qian Dynasty.

“Bow one hundred times. Miss one, and I’ll sever a finger. If your knocks lack sound, I’ll cut out your tongue,” Wu Hong said coldly.

For someone so wicked, who failed to restrain his disciples, Wu Hong’s leniency was remarkable.

Wu Hong’s actions frightened those who had old grudges against him—like Ma Yanhang, representing the Earth Fiend organization.

Or members of the Medicine King Sect, like Ximen Hong, who had offended Wu Hong over the mysterious Xuan Yin fruit and fled, spreading slander about him in the martial world.

Seeing Qingyang Zi’s fate, they felt a grim sadness, drenched in cold sweat but utterly helpless. Any sudden move now would be fatal—not just from Wu Hong’s wrath but also because Emperor Yang Wei, for the sake of face, would immediately order their execution.

The tens of thousands of Imperial Guard were no joke, and the palace housed hundreds of thousands of elite soldiers.

If they all charged simultaneously, many in the martial world would certainly die. There was no doubt.

Among the crowd were some who secretly reveled in Qingyang Zi’s humiliation before Wu Hong but dared not show it publicly.

“Thud, thud, thud—” Qingyang Zi’s head kept striking the hard ground. He dared not use any protective true qi and soon was bleeding from his wounds.

Yet no one dared to pity him.

Wu Hong smiled and said, “As the saying goes, local officials are like parents to the people. Since you are a parent, should you not utter ‘grandfather’ instead?”

“Pfft—Your lover brother? You really know how to mess with people. But I’m liking it more and more,” Wang Biluo’s eyes gleamed as she gazed at Wu Hong.

Qingyang Zi dared not disobey Wu Hong’s wishes. Each time he knocked his head, he repeated aloud, “Grandfather—grandfather—grandfather—”

How pitiful for a sect leader, crushed so utterly beneath imperial power and overwhelming authority.

Now Qingyang Zi bitterly regretted his decisions. When Emperor Yang Wei had invited him, he was overjoyed, seeing it as a grand opportunity to eliminate Wu Hong. Yet he never imagined such a dire outcome.

At the same time, his awe of Wu Hong’s strength turned to terror. This incident would force the entire sect to relocate deep into the mountains to avoid Wu Hong’s vengeance.

Huang Ling, proud and aloof as a noble lady, found her heart pounding fiercely at the sight of Wu Hong’s commanding presence.

At last, Qingyang Zi, covered in blood, finished his kowtows. Wu Hong, bored, returned to his seat.

Thereafter, everyone else approached to pay respects to Emperor Yang Wei and Prince Wu Hong, careful not to act presumptuously, observing all proper etiquette.

Wu Hong did not make things difficult. After each major sect had paid their respects, only the small Eastern faction from Blackwood Cliff had yet to approach.

Wu Hong did not force anyone.

Not even Ma Yanhang was troubled. The man was already terrified of Wu Hong and impeccable in his manners, leaving no fault for Wu Hong to find.

Then, Xiao Dongfang stepped forward, dazzling the eyes of every man present. She was truly stunning.

Xiao Dongfang’s tall figure possessed a unique charm distinct from ordinary beauties. But what truly caught everyone’s attention was her extraordinarily bold attire.

The Minister of Rites among the officials looked particularly displeased.

Xiao Dongfang wore an outfit so revealing it was almost scandalous—akin to being nearly naked.

It was shocking that a woman could be so audacious, clad only in narrow strips of cloth.

A slender, semi-transparent band stretched tightly across her chest, barely containing the surging curves beneath.

Her upper body was wrapped merely by this single band, causing many to worry it might slip at any moment, revealing forbidden crimson peaks.

Her lower half was even more provocative. Some of the more conservative men dared not look directly, feigning propriety by covering their eyes, though Wu Hong noticed their fingers left slight gaps through which they peeked.

Wu Hong sneered inwardly. “Hmph—these so-called gentlemen and scholars, are they truly any better than those who stare dumbfounded with slack jaws?”

Xiao Dongfang’s lower garb stirred a wild passion. The men’s faces flushed red and their necks thickened with excitement.

Around her waist was a belt composed of thousands of tiny embroidered needles, and between her legs, a very narrow strip of cloth was drawn so tight that, viewed from behind, it pressed deeply into her groin, revealing no trace of fabric—like a naked woman.

That tightly bound forbidden zone shimmered faintly, evoking endless fantasies.