Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Wang Po possessed a unique pair of eyebrows.

More specifically, their uniqueness came from the distance between his brows and his eyes.

His brow and eyes were rather close to each other, and the ends of his eyebrows sagged, leading him to look rather impoverished.

And yet, when his brows rose, they would part from his eyes.

It was like the heavens and earth were parting.

At the same time, the end of his brow would rise up like a spear, magnificently soaring to the dome of heaven.

In short, when he raised his brows, he no longer had anything to do with the word 'impoverished'.

Moreover, it was often the case that when he raised his brows, his shoulders would rise with them.

Compared to his eyebrows, Wang Po's shoulders were more famous, because his shoulders spent more time drooped and were easier to see.

And when he moved his shoulders, he was often striking out with his blade.

Such a time was now, as a chilling blade intent abruptly appeared in Hundred Flowers Lane and soared into the sky.

Several hundred divine crossbows and all the weapons wielded by the experts of the Imperial Court were aimed at Wang Po.

The Prince of Xiang's expression was grave. He had taken both his hands off the paunch gathered around his belt.

Wang Po said nothing, only calmly stared at the Orthodox Academy.

Just like the Prince of Xiang, he knew that the person using the Blazing Sun Style was not Chen Changsheng.

Then it could only be Shang Xingzhou.

Just what was the relationship between Shang Xingzhou and Emperor Taizong?

Was he also a member of the Imperial clan?

Wang Po was not thinking about these questions.

Instead, he was thinking about several descriptions that his clan's elders had only managed to preserve through great difficulty.

In those descriptions, the most striking were the four words 'Clan destitute, people massacred', dripping in blood, but there were also many other miserable scenes.

Those scenes all included a young man of dour temperament. According to the judgment of the Wang clan's ancestors, that young man was the true instigator behind the raids on their household. He had most likely been a member of the Imperial clan, but none of their investigations, whether at the time or in the aftermath, had been able to identify him.

In brief, that young man had put the Wang clan through many bleak and miserable storms.

Wang Po had never met Emperor Taizong, but Emperor Taizong was still his enemy, because this was the hatred of his clan.

That young man was naturally his enemy as well.

He originally thought that the young man had already vanished into the long river of history, but today, he discovered that this man might very well be alive.

The atmosphere outside the Orthodox Academy became abnormally tense.

Wang Po silently stared at the academy gate.

In the end, his shoulders drooped back down.

His brows sagged back down at the same time.

Thousands of sighs emerged as one within Hundred Flowers Lane.

Not out of regret, but celebration.

The Blazing Sun style was an extremely powerful and unique cultivation method.

The tens of thousands of Daoist techniques in the world were all based on the conversion of star radiance to true essence.

Only the Blazing Sun Style gathered not star radiance, but sunfire.

Sunfire was not as pure or gentle as star radiance, but it was far more powerful.

But it was also precisely because it was too fierce and hot that cultivators simply could not gather it in order to convert it to true essence.

Over the countless millennia since the Heavenly Tome Monoliths had descended to the world and the Human race had begun to cultivate, only the Chen clan, through their unique sun wheel, could cultivate this method.

Both the Daoist scriptures and the annals of history took this as a blessing the Heavenly Dao had conferred on the Chen clan. Thus, whether in peace or war, the Chen clan had always possessed a special status in Tianliang County and the entire continent. They seemed innately layered in a divine radiance.

A thousand years ago, the Chen clan had produced countless experts, like the young hero Chen Xuanba, or like Emperor Taizong.

Of course, there was also that person who had been rumored to be a wise god of war: the Prince of Chu.

Even now, the Chen Imperial clan continued to produce a large number of experts. The ten-some princes in Hundred Flowers Lane were all experts, and the Prince of Xiang had even entered the Divine Domain. Together with the younger clansmen spread out in the provinces and counties, they truly presented a most powerful force.

However, in the last few years, with the Tianhai Divine Empress in the past and Shang Xingzhou present, this strength had no opportunity to truly exhibit its power.

But how could Shang Xingzhou practice the Blazing Sun Style? Was he also a member of the Imperial clan? Just what was his relationship with Emperor Taizong?

These questions flitted through Chen Changsheng's mind but quickly vanished, leaving no trace behind.

He had developed this hypothesis in the Garden of Zhou, so he was just receiving the evidence now.

And besides, Shang Xingzhou had once more walked up to him.

Both hands on his sword, he chopped it down at Chen Changsheng's head.

It was an extremely simple slash, no technique or profundity within. It was just a straight slash downward.

Sunlight shone on his tightly bound black hair, reflecting light.

Sunlight shone on his bare arms, reflecting light.

Sunlight shone on his Daoist sword, reflecting light.

He looked just like a god.

The sword in his hand was severing everything in the world.

First was the sky.

A line, both real and fake, appeared in the azure sky.

A sword intent, awe-inspiring without compare, accompanied by a dazzling light, descended toward Chen Changsheng's head.

Chen Changsheng did not know if he could block it.

He was somewhat nervous, and the light of the sword was too bright, so he squinted.

The subtle actions of humans were often connected to each other.

When he squinted his eyes, his hand subconsciously tightened.

And then, his palm tightly gripped the hilt of his sword.

The hilt was somewhat tough and rather sticky from being hidden inside a tree for several years, whether from moss or mud.

This was not a strange feeling, as he had held countless swords before, but it was also not a familiar feeling. He confirmed that he had never held this sword before.

There had been too many swords in the Sword Pool, so it was impossible for him to be familiar with each one. He also did not know of this sword's name or background.

But he knew that the object in his hand was straight, hard, and sharp.

This was a sword.

So it was fine.

Sword clashed with sword.

It was like bitter cold sent down to the south from the snowy plains meeting a wave of heat from the Western Sea.

There was a thunderous crack.

The agitated lake waters became waves, and then they were further agitated into a reverse waterfall. Falling back down as a torrent of rain, they cleansed the world from another angle.

Several dozen thick and ancient trees creaked as they slowly collapsed.

The ground sank as shards of wood and branches flew over it.

The wall of the Hundred Herb Garden was covered in scars, deep and shallow.

Nearby, the array of the Imperial Palace automatically triggered, causing light to fall down, and draping everything in an enigmatic attire.

In Wang Zhice's eyes, this scene looked very much like Daoist Wu's most recent painting. The brushstrokes were very simple, even deliberately crude, but the colors were extremely audacious.

Like that red that looked both like blood and rust.

The dust settled.

Chen Changsheng was half-kneeling by the lake, blood dripping from the corners of his lips.

Even more frightening was that he no longer had a sword in his hand.

That sword had fallen on an extremely distant patch of grass, thrust at an angle into the ground. It looked like the remnants of a flag, or a monolith.

This sword was still trembling, softly buzzing, not out of mourning, but apology.

Shang Xingzhou appeared in front of Chen Changsheng.

It was also no easy task for him to break that defensive sword style that Su Li had passed down to Chen Changsheng.

But he had the Blazing Sun Style.

He was still suppressing his strength to beneath the Divine Domain, but the Blazing Sun Style allowed him to possess unimaginable and endless strength.

The most formidable sword style could not endure this crushing power for very long.

In this process, Shang Xingzhou had paid a greater price than Chen Changsheng, consumed more true essence.

But Chen Changsheng had no sword.

Shang Xingzhou indifferently regarded him as he raised his sword once more.

He did not believe that his disciple would be so lucky as to randomly find another sword in a broken tree.

Strangely, no panic could be spied on Chen Changsheng's face. His eyes were still as calm as a lake.

And then, he thrust his hand into the lake and took out another sword.