Chapter 347: Supreme Fang Can!

The capital of Dayan, the entire court inside and out, was lifeless.

Since the recent disappearance of Ji Donglai and the other psychics, the court has been this way.

We had hoped to rise strongly by leveraging the psychics’ affair, but Dayan suffered another such incident.

Jiang Qilan listened patiently as the court ministers reported below.

Since becoming this empress, she had gradually grown accustomed to this life—daily, rigidly hearing reports and issuing decrees.

Compared to herself, these ministers, who had lived for over a hundred years, were far superior in experience and tactics; every suggestion they offered was more reasonable than hers.

Seated high upon the dragon throne, gazing down at the ministers below, Jiang Qilan’s mind wandered into the Void, drifting into daydreams.

‘I heard Fang Gege entered the secret realm with Liu Zongzhu and still hasn’t returned.’

‘The four-transcenders who returned said Fang Gege may have received the legacy of a six-transcender—no one knows when we’ll meet again.’

‘And about the psychics… Fang Gege still doesn’t know, does he…?’

…

Jiang Qilan’s thoughts scattered endlessly, then she realized she was still in court.

Looking at the solemn ministers below, she was about to say, “If you have matters to report, speak; if not, dismiss,” when a cold, deep voice pierced the hall.

“All of you, come out and face me!”

The voice rolled like thunder through the entire capital, yet Jiang Qilan found it strangely familiar.

Before she could think further, a massive palm of black mist suddenly coalesced from the empty air beyond the hall.

The palm stretched a hundred zhang wide; as its fingers flexed, the air currents tore the clouds overhead into ragged shreds. Where it passed, the atmosphere trembled, and even light bent under its force.

The instant it formed, the palm swung violently! The golden roof tiles shattered into dust, the beams and pillars snapped like straw, and the carved dragon-and-phoenix walls cracked into spiderweb fissures.

Before the ministers could recover from their shock, the entire palace was hurled sideways like paper, and daylight flooded into the ruined hall.

In the sunlight, they saw a young man standing outside, drenched in murderous aura, his white hair whipping like a waterfall, his crimson pupils flickering with nearly tangible flames of rage.

“Fang Can!”

Instantly, the ministers recognized the white-haired youth.

They didn’t dwell on why his appearance had changed—seeing him now, one thought flashed into their minds: ‘This man means harm!’

Having altered the palace’s feng shui with a wave of his hand to improve its lighting, Fang Can stood still, suppressing the churning emotions within.

He realized his current state was abnormal.

So, while waiting for them to emerge, he decided to properly adjust his mindset.

But the more he tried to calm himself, the more agitated he became—as if he’d stayed awake three days and nights, finally ready to sleep, then been forcibly woken—utterly without patience.

‘Did an accident trigger the premature outbreak of the Sin of Wrath?’ Fang Can silently pondered.

As he thought, the ministers and the empress streamed out of the ruined hall, and his earlier thoughts turned once more to impatience.

‘Want to kill, want to fuck, want to fight…’

Alongside the rage came countless urges to vent.

If pride was merely contempt for all things,

then the Sin of Wrath now was the desire to waste one’s malice upon this world.

In an instant, Fang Can appeared before a minister, his eyes brimming with malice.

“F-Fang Shaoxia, what are your orders?” The minister swallowed hard, as if a lamb had been fixed by a dinosaur’s gaze.

“I think you’re so ugly I bet you’ve cursed me in your heart!”

Fang Can spoke coldly, then his fist shot out like a cannonball, sinking deep into the minister’s cheek.

A deafening boom echoed beside the ministers’ ears; they saw Fang Can’s fist carve a trench stretching dozens of li.

At the trench’s end, a man, bones shattered, clothes torn, was embedded in the rock wall, his face swollen like a pig’s head, unconscious and Shengsibuzhi .

This was still the result of Fang Can’s instinctive restraint—if he hadn’t held back, not just this man, but everyone present would have been reduced to ash by the residual force.

‘This… Fang Can has gone mad! Absolutely mad!’ The thought rose unbidden in their minds; their legs trembled involuntarily.

They could no longer find even a trace of the innocent boy they once knew in this brooding youth—this man was like one who had fallen into demonic Dao.

Crack crack crack crack—

Fang Can clenched his fists until the joints cracked, finally lowering his hand.

He had just successfully prevented another vicious chain murder—thanks to his extraordinary self-control!

Slowly exhaling a turbid breath, Fang Can tilted his head, a flicker of ferocity in his eyes: “While I still have control, tell me—what’s going on with that Asura?”

As he spoke, Fang Can sat upon a broken stone pillar, waiting for the ministers to explain.

After a brief silence, under Fang Can’s increasingly impatient gaze, Prince Qing finally gathered his thoughts and spoke:

“He is a five-transcender who returned from the Nightmare Realm, named Ye Xiuyuan. Upon hearing that Master Ji and the others were from another realm, he came directly to fight.”

“That battle occurred over the Endless Sea; its terrifying destruction was observable even a million li away, its residual waves nearly apocalyptic.”

“In the end, the Asura transcender returned unharmed. Through conversations with some four-transcenders, we learned Master Ji likely fled.”

“After that, we received no further news from Master Ji. But according to messages from the game players who came from the other world, the White Federation and the Black Empire have officially established diplomatic relations with the New State—there may be risks of annexation. Master Ji’s current condition is likely poor.”

Fang Can listened to Prince Qing’s report, suppressing his anger: “Where is this five-transcender, Ye Xiuyuan?”

“He returned. They said each descent has a time limit; this time, his allotted time was short, and he had to return to carry out duties, so he stayed only two or three days and left, saying he’d return soon.”

Prince Qing explained, then looked at Fang Can: “You seem… off.”

“None of your business,” Fang Can cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I’ll ask you one thing: have the war reparations promised by other nations arrived?”

Prince Qing paused, then said: “...No. Since Master Ji vanished, the matter has been entirely shelved. What do you intend to do?”

“What do I intend to do?” Fang Can smiled, sweetly, dangerously: “I’m furious. What do you think I’ll do?”

(End of chapter)