Chapter 1667: Escort the Emperor!

However, Bai Hengbo's unexpected death was a major loss in the Qingyang plan.

She glanced at the Frost Immortal Hall, as if she could see through the walls, spotting the smug face of the Yao King: Bai Hengbo's subordinates had lost their leader—would they still obey Qingyang's orders? They weren't familiar with her.

Moreover, the Yao King had summoned her to the hall, and Qingyang sensed a hidden killing intent.

This old thing wanted to transfer her away from the Fourth Prince and the ministers, then lure her into the Frost Immortal Hall to kill her?

Needless to say, the Frost Immortal Hall was lying in wait; once she entered, it would be hard to escape unharmed.

The other party feigned ignorance, so Qiu Long had to speak plainly: "His Majesty wishes to discuss a few matters with the Regent and the Wu envoy."

Qingyang showed concern, speaking softly and slowly: "How is His Majesty's health? I just saw bloodshot eyes, heavy breathing, phlegm in his voice—truly fatigued. I have some spirit pills here to protect Qi, nourish the heart, calm the mind, and stabilize the spirit. Would His Majesty like to take some?"

She silently calculated—time was nearly up—what was Bai Tan doing?! Qiu Long cursed inwardly: It's all your fault! But he forced a smile: "His Majesty rested for two quarters of an hour; he's much better."

Qingyang empathized, sighing: "We old fogies can't stay up late once we age—only youngsters like Your Highside have boundless energy."

She lightly placed her hand on the Fourth Prince's shoulder, her face full of affection. The Fourth Prince couldn't very well shake her off, his face slightly awkward.

Bai Hengbo was dead, the terrain was in the enemy's hands, and she had to destroy their advantage.

That old Yao King probably guessed why she summoned the person in charge of the Tian Shui East Expansion Project—now he rushed to separate them from Qingyang.

Correct—she harbored a plan to net them all tonight. Those who could participate in the Tian Shui East Expansion Project were basically the Yao King's diehards, his core base.

He Hao used just one project to screen out all those who deserved death—efficient! Especially the Fourth Prince.

This youth was intelligent and eager to learn, favored by his father. Since Qingyang had risen in revolt, the Fourth Prince was a key target.

He usually didn't reside in the palace, his guards were numerous; if she didn't find a reason to lure him in and kill him together, Qingyang feared he'd flee the city during a palace mutiny, causing endless trouble.

Prince Rui was popular among the people; if he escaped and raised his arm, many generals would likely rally to him.

The Heavenly Gods wished for chaos on the Jinjin Plains, but Qingyang disliked the uncertainty the Fourth Prince brought.

Qiu Long also secretly anxious. That old demoness must have seen something—she neither fled nor entered the hall, just stood there, dragging the Fourth Prince! He had to step forward, half-blocking between the Fourth Prince and Qingyang: "Your Highness, His Majesty summons you to the rear hall."

Prince Rui had already sensed the atmosphere was off; he answered and walked backward.

At that moment, Qingyang felt a faint tremor in her bosom.

She casually took out the water mirror to look; her gaze tightened, her heart leapt with joy.

The mirror bore four large characters: Already passed the palace gate.

Good, good, good! This was Bai Tan's victory report—he had already led his troops through the palace gate, straight into the palace! The first major obstacle of tonight's operation was finally overcome.

Qingyang secretly relaxed, dropped the pretense, and smiled at Qiu Long: "I think the Fourth Prince should enter the hall with me."

According to her prearranged plan, once Bai Tan passed through the palace gate, Bai Hengbo's side should immediately act.

But Bai Hengbo was already dead.

Qingyang had not wanted to get involved, but now she couldn't avoid it.

The Fourth Prince had already taken three or four steps; she flicked her wrist, and the boy stumbled back.

Qiu Long, quick-handed, stepped forward to block Qingyang, flicked his wrist, and drew a short axe, swinging it between Qingyang and the Fourth Prince—

Qingyang had secretly stuck a silk thread on Prince Rui's shoulder; a single tug would yank the unsuspecting Fourth Prince back, like a marionette.

At the same time, Qiu Long's tongue burst like spring thunder as he roared: "Guard the carriage!"

He was only two years younger than the Yao King, yet this move revealed dragon-like vigor and tiger-like ferocity—where was his usual aged frailty?

The silk thread on the Fourth Prince snapped; Qiu Long's elbow jerked outward, the short axe suddenly lengthened and sharpened, aiming straight for Qingyang's chin.

He wielded a pair of meridian double axes, unlike ordinary axes—slender, narrow, more like a sickle mounted on the arm, the gusts of its swing reaching over six feet! These axes came from an ancient battlefield, originally a relic of a great general; Qiu Long spent heavily to have them reforged and meticulously maintained for over twenty years before they became this wieldy.

Only a clear "ding" was heard, like jade chimes striking.

His axe naturally couldn't easily wound Qingyang; the opponent raised a short staff to block the blow, then made a scooping motion—wrist scooping and swaying—naturally dissolving the axe's force, and casually dragged Qiu Long into an invisible energy current! Qiu Long felt as if he'd been sucked into a vortex, barely able to stand.

Formidable.

The opponent hadn't even used divine powers, yet had already put him on the defensive.

As for Qingyang's long staff, the axe struck it several times but left not even a white mark.

Even ironwood aged hundreds of years wasn't this hard—yet the staff was wrapped in vines and bore several green leaves.

Qingyang's other hand had been behind her back, a string of red beads on her wrist; now her fingers flicked lightly, plucking the strings like a zither, forming a seal, and shot it at Qiu Long.

The gesture resembled pushing something forward; a cyan rune lit up in her palm.

Qiu Long felt nothing unusual, but the surrounding air suddenly grew heavy as a thousand jin, pressing him immobile.

To onlookers, he stood frozen, unable to lift even a little finger.

Immobilization Technique! Lost since antiquity, no one expected it to reappear in Qingyang's hands—let alone be used so smoothly. Once successful, it could immobilize enemies within seven feet on the spot.

As for duration, it depended on the target's size, strength, and resistance.

Against ordinary cultivators, Qingyang's move could immobilize for at least six breaths, but due to interfering vital energy, Qiu Long could only be controlled for about three breaths.

If used against Zhu Xiuer, who once caused havoc in the Heavenly Palace, it's uncertain whether even a moment would suffice—after all, Zhu Xiuer wore the shed skin of an ancient spider immortal, her size exceeding a thatched hut.

But against Qiu Long, Qingyang had full confidence; a single immobilization spell sent her staff tip veering, and in Qiu Long's horrified, despairing gaze, it pierced his throat!

In her hand, the staff tip rivaled a needle's point—she thrust it straight through, front to back, opening a blood hole on Qiu Long's neck.

Qiu Long's body also flickered with several faint lights—his protective artifacts activating one after another, yet unable to resist Qingyang's true power.

Three breaths—enough.

This seamless sequence left onlookers still reacting when Qiu Long lost his life. Qingyang's performance seemed effortless, as if she picked it up without expending a trace of effort.

Even the strike that killed Qiu Long appeared gentle and restrained, lacking killing intent.

The palace guards below the eaves had just rushed over when they saw Qiu Long slain by Qingyang in two exchanges—startled, they scattered to protect the Fourth Prince.

"Your Highness, hurry into the hall!"

Need they say more? Taking advantage of Qiu Long buying her time, the Fourth Prince had already strode swiftly toward the Frost Immortal Hall.

As he ran, he felt numbness in his shoulder, unable to shake off his arm, but with danger looming behind, he couldn't attend to this oddity.

Qingyang did not pursue.

Wang Zirui rushed up to the topmost steps in one breath, feeling safe, then turned to look.

The palace guards filled the steps, facing off against Qingyang and Bai Hengbo's subordinates with weapons drawn.

The two sides faced off.

Other officials also came to their senses from the shock, hurriedly rushing onto the steps of the Frost Immortal Palace and taking cover behind the guards.

How could it be that upon entering the palace today, I just happened to run into a rebellion? But here, most are civil officials, with no generals, so we cannot help with the defense.

Qingyang planted her long staff into the ground, still appearing unhurried, but Wang Zirui noticed that besides the original green leaves still on her staff tip, a small purple flower had actually bloomed.

Light and agile, very much like a clematis.

Then, something on the ground moved.

Wang Zirui looked and felt a chill run down his spine:

Qiu Long had actually climbed to his feet!

The reason Wang Zirui was not pleased but startled was because Qiu Long's movements did not resemble those of a normal human—first crawling on all fours, then unexpectedly arching his back to stand, bumping and colliding everywhere, showing none of his usual composure and caution.

"Qiu Long!" Since Wang Zirui could remember, Qiu Long had watched him grow up; seeing this extremely familiar old palace servant now with twisted eyes and throaty noises, unable to speak, he could not help but shout angrily, "What did you do to him!"

Qingyang gripped her wooden staff, the small purple flower at its tip swaying in the wind—this serene beauty utterly out of place with the current atmosphere.

"This flower is called a soul-flower." She smiled, "My staff consumes people, and it draws out their living souls at the same time, leaving them no chance to fake death."

She pointed at Qiu Long, who had collided with a tree and fallen: "Although Qiu Long, my lord, has a living body, his soul is gone, so this body has become a living corpse with form but no soul."

Qiu Long probably also had some kind of substitute treasure, which activated automatically after she pierced his throat. However, the higher the Dao, the higher the demon—Qingyang casually drew out his living soul; though his body could still move after just coming back to life, his mind was already empty.

"Vile woman!" With a bang, the door of the Frost Immortal Palace opened, and Yaowang strode out, face full of anger, "Under heaven, there actually exists someone as vile as you. I treated you with the highest courtesy, yet you killed my general, harmed my offspring, and even conspired with Bai Tan to seize my Jiangshan."

Qingyang's expression shifted slightly: "Bai Tan?"

"No need to pretend. I have already stripped Bai Tan of his office, and someone is already dealing with him!" Yaowang narrowed his eyes, "You are trying every way to delay time, just waiting for Bai Hengbo to return? Let me tell you—he has already returned; turn around and you will see him!"

Suddenly, a crowd rushed in through the outer gate of the Frost Immortal Palace courtyard, standing directly behind Qingyang and her guards, with Zhao Song leading them.

He held aloft a head, his voice and expression grim: "Bai Hengbo's head is here—will you not surrender? Kneel and live!"

The head was still dripping blood, its features twisted, still congealed with the fear from before death.

Yet it did not prevent everyone from seeing clearly that this was indeed Bai Hengbo!

(End of chapter)