A few days later.
Outer Sanli, capital outskirts, Qing Temple.
The first time someone heard the name "Outer Sanli," they might assume it referred to a place three miles outside the capital. In reality, however, it was simply the name of a location. (Li is a Chinese unit of distance)
Qing Temple was situated on the fringes of the capital and was said to be the only place in the Qing Kingdom where one could communicate with the Divine Temple. It also served as the imperial family's sacred site for worshiping the heavens.
"Clip-clop, clip-clop..."
The crisp sound of horse hooves drew nearer, followed by a carriage embroidered with the character "Xiao" pulling to a graceful stop before the temple gates.
Two burly men clad in black martial attire stepped down first, their expressions cold and indifferent, exuding an air of solemnity.
"Dian Wei, open the door."
At Xiao Feng's command, the towering Dian Wei strode forward and pushed open the temple's heavy black wooden doors.
"Halt!!!"
The moment the doors parted, a sharp reprimand rang out from within.
A middle-aged man with a sinister expression, deep-set eyes, and a hooked nose blocked Dian Wei's path.
"Leave at once! A noble is currently offering prayers inside. No disturbances allowed!"
As he spoke, the man reached out to shove Dian Wei away.
Detecting the hostile action, Dian Wei's internal counterattack protocol activated. He swung his massive palm—each hand like a giant fan—toward the man with overwhelming force.
"Boom!!!"
The moment their palms collided, a dull impact resonated through the air.
"Thud! Thud! Thud..."
The middle-aged man's expression twisted in shock as an irresistible force sent him stumbling backward. His feet left deep imprints—nearly an inch deep—in the solid stone pavement.
Finally steadying himself, the man stared at Dian Wei's unmovable stance, his pupils contracting sharply with undisguised wariness.
This man was no ordinary figure—his name was Gong Dian, the Qing Emperor's personal guard captain and a martial artist at the upper eighth-grade level.
Yet Dian Wei had effortlessly repelled him. That could only mean one thing—this black-clad giant was at least a ninth-grade expert.
Ninth-grade martial artists were not common. The entire Qing Kingdom had only seven, all of whom Gong Dian knew by name.
This man was definitely not among them. Could he be a foreign ninth-grade master?
At this very moment, the Qing Emperor was inside the temple offering prayers. The sudden appearance of an unknown ninth-grade expert was far too suspicious to ignore.
"Who are you people? What is your purpose here today?"
Gong Dian questioned sharply, his guard raised. Behind his back, he subtly gestured for the hidden guards to evacuate the emperor first.
Xiao Feng pretended not to notice the covert signal. Instead, he flicked open his folding fan with an amused smile.
"This young master has come merely to offer prayers. Must you be so hostile?"
"You—!"
Gong Dian bristled at the mocking tone, but before he could retort, a shrill voice interrupted:
"His Majesty decrees that this young master be invited into the main hall for an audience."
Gong Dian's expression shifted slightly. Though he found the order unwise, he dared not disobey the emperor. Reluctantly, he stepped aside.
"Let's go."
Xiao Feng beckoned to Dian Wei and Xu Chu, then swaggered into the temple's main hall.
The hall's architecture resembled the Temple of Heaven, with two layers of circular eaves exuding solemn grandeur.
Inside the spacious hall stood a middle-aged man in his forties, hands clasped behind his back as he admired the murals.
His features were not particularly striking, but his eyes carried an imperious air, radiating the dominance of one long accustomed to absolute authority.
Seeing the Qing Emperor deliberately keeping his back turned—a classic power move—Xiao Feng smirked.
"So, you're Li Yunqian?"
!!!
The eunuchs and guards in the hall paled, quickly bowing their heads to avoid being implicated by this audacious fool.
"Hahaha~"
A flash of killing intent flickered in the emperor's eyes before he turned with a chuckle.
"It has been many years since anyone dared address me by that name."
"Names exist to be spoken, no?"
Xiao Feng feigned ignorance of the emperor's murderous gaze and continued pointedly:
"In this young master's eyes, the name 'Li Yunqian' is no different from 'Ye Qingmei' or 'Wu Zhu.'"
"..."
Hearing those two forbidden names, the emperor's pupils constricted. Only now did he scrutinize Xiao Feng properly.
Initially, he had allowed their entry simply to avoid disrupting his plans—and because he was confident in his own strength.
But now that Xiao Feng had mentioned Ye Qingmei and Wu Zhu, the emperor couldn't help but wonder about his origins.
Noticing how Dian Wei and Xu Chu stood beside Xiao Feng with expressions of detached superiority—as if mortals were mere ants—the emperor was reminded of the Divine Temple's emissaries.
Believing he had pieced together the truth, the emperor cautiously probed:
"Do you, perhaps, hail from the same place as Ye Qingmei?"
"Correct."
Xiao Feng inclined his head slightly.
"This young master is the current Holy Son of the Divine Temple—Xiao Feng."
"Holy Son of the Divine Temple?"
The emperor frowned at the unfamiliar title.
"Dian Wei, enlighten him on what a 'Holy Son' is."
"As you command, Your Holiness."
Dian Wei bowed before turning to the emperor.
"The Holy Son is second only to the Divine Temple's Holy Master. When a Holy Master ascends to the divine realm, the Holy Son succeeds them."
"If the Holy Master were likened to an emperor, then the Holy Son would be the crown prince."
"The Ye Qingmei you knew was merely His Holiness's personal maidservant during her time at the temple."
"Had she not fled the temple and stolen His Holiness's divine artifact—the 'Barrett Sniper Rifle'—the temple would never have dispatched envoys to hunt her down."
"Hiss—"
The emperor inhaled sharply. He had never imagined Xiao Feng's background to be so formidable.
Ye Qingmei alone had once shaken the world. Yet she had only been this man's maid?
As for the "Barrett Sniper Rifle"—that must be the heavenly thunder artifact that had slain the two princes and haunted him for years.
(End of Chapter)