Chapter 898: Unable to See

Dead! Dead!

The bustling streets of Wangu Cheng erupted into chaos at these shouts.

Whether they were street performers, shoppers, or vendors at small stalls, everyone rushed over in a swarm, crowding the small area with layers upon layers of people.

Second Boss!

A few henchmen had already lunged forward, pulling Ye Chen aside to pry out the burly man. It was indeed prying, because the burly man had been smashed beyond recognition, reduced to a lump of flesh stuck to the ground.

The scene was gruesome, covered in blood, making the onlookers gag. They weren't strangers to death, but this level of gore was something they'd never witnessed before—and they had just seen it happen right in front of them.

"Why on earth did he have to die like that?" someone muttered, shaking their head in dismay.

"Bullying women, committing all sorts of evils—he deserved it." Another person spoke with resentment, though they didn't dare step closer for a better look.

As for the two women dressed as scholars in white robes, they were frozen in fear, their faces pale and their bodies trembling. As sheltered young ladies from noble families, they rarely ventured out and had never seen such a bloody sight.

Make way! Make way!

Soon, noisy voices rose up as officials from the yamen arrived. Leading them was a sharp-faced, weaselly young man who looked thoroughly sleazy—he was a constable from the yamen.

The man strutted in with an air of authority, but the moment he saw the bloody mess, he choked up. His stomach churned, and he doubled over, vomiting so badly he couldn't straighten up. "Damn it, what bad luck! All I see are dead bodies. So unlucky, really freaking unlucky."

"Who did this?" Seeing their boss doubled over, one of the yamen runners stepped forward, scanning the crowd with a face even more ferocious than the burly man's.

The moment he spoke, the onlookers pointed straight at the unconscious Ye Chen. "It's him—the one who fell from above."

"Fell from above?" The runner paused, instinctively glancing up at the sky.

"Doesn't matter where he came from—just drag him away and bury him." The constable, still retching in the distance, waved a hand dismissively, avoiding the gruesome sight for fear of vomiting up his guts.

At that, two runners hurriedly grabbed Ye Chen by the legs and dragged him toward the city outskirts.

The mighty Holy Lord of the Heavenly Court, who commanded awe across the world, was being hauled away like this by two ordinary people. If any cultivators had seen it, they might have been scared to tears—this was terrifying beyond words.

In an instant, the once lively streets of Wangu Cheng fell deserted due to the horrific scene.

Who would feel like strolling, performing, or selling goods after witnessing a death like that, especially when it made their spines chill just thinking about walking at night?

Outside the city, in a desolate graveyard overgrown with weeds and shrouded in darkness, the wind howled. If you listened closely, you could almost hear the wails of vengeful ghosts, for this place buried far too many who shouldn't have died.

Amid the weeds, Ye Chen lay there, still breathing but deeply unconscious.

He wasn't buried alive—the two runners didn't bother. In the dead of night, this eerie graveyard was prime territory for encountering spirits. Who would waste time digging a grave here?

Soon, the growls of beasts echoed through the darkness. Glowing red eyes appeared as over a dozen wild dogs sniffed their way over, surrounding Ye Chen.

But just as quickly, they all slunk away with their tails between their legs.

Now, scattered around Ye Chen were fragments of something.

Upon closer inspection, they were shattered teeth—more precisely, the wild dogs' teeth, broken all over the ground. They had wanted a feast but had picked the wrong target.

Who was lying there? The Holy Lord of the Heavenly Court. Even in his unconscious state, not just any creature could harm him. A few wild dogs were nothing; even cultivators might not breach his powerful sacred body.

The night fell silent once more, pitch black all around.

Sometime later, a gust of cold wind swept through, and a figure in black robes appeared in the graveyard.

It was a middle-aged man in black, with sharp eyes and a long sword at his waist. He looked like an assassin, radiating an aura of killing intent. In the mortal world, he must have been a martial arts master.

"Is it him, Miss?" The middle-aged man turned to the white-robed female scholar who had just approached.

"Yes, it's him." She nodded lightly, clearly frightened by the atmosphere, clutching the middle-aged man's robe as she spoke for a sense of security.

"Don't be afraid." The middle-aged man smiled warmly, hoisted Ye Chen onto his back, and led the white-robed female scholar away from the graveyard.

Ye Chen reappeared in a mansion in Wangu Cheng.

That night, the mansion bustled with people—mostly physicians carrying medicine boxes, all summoned by the white-robed female scholar to examine him.

A few physicians gathered around Ye Chen, checking his arms, legs, chest, and eyes, examining him from head to toe. Finally, they exchanged glances. "No injuries at all!"

"He's covered in blood—how can there be no injuries?" The white-robed female scholar stared at them in astonishment.

"Truly no injuries." The physicians confirmed with certainty.

"I'll take his pulse." One physician rolled up his sleeves, sat by the bed, and placed his fingers on Ye Chen's wrist. He stroked his beard, calmly listening to the pulse.

Ugh!

A cry of pain soon filled the room. The physician had collapsed on the floor, knocked out by the force of Ye Chen's pulse.

This...

Not just the white-robed female scholar, but even the middle-aged man was stunned. They'd seen pulses taken before, but one strong enough to knock someone out? That was a first.

"Miss Liu, we... we can't treat him." The other physicians grabbed their medicine boxes and fled, dragging their unconscious colleague with them as they went.

"Yang Uncle, what about this..." The white-robed female scholar looked to the middle-aged man.

"Such a powerful pulse indicates someone with profound inner force—undoubtedly a top martial arts expert." Yang Uncle pondered for a moment. "Miss, rest assured. With inner force like that protecting him, he should be fine."

Yang Uncle smiled gently and glanced at the white-robed female scholar. "Ru Yan, I'll pretend I didn't see what happened tonight. Go change into your proper attire before your father sees you and scolds you again."

"Oh, I almost forgot about that. Thank you, Yang Uncle." The white-robed female scholar smiled sweetly and hurried out of the room.

Watching her leave, Yang Uncle chuckled and shook his head, then turned his gaze back to Ye Chen. "No ordinary person could have such inner force. This young man—could he be a cultivator?"

"Someone, clean him up and get him some fresh clothes." Yang Uncle took a deep breath, deciding not to probe with his own inner force.

Soon, a few servants entered, carrying a large wooden tub. They placed the blood-soaked Ye Chen inside, stripping him completely. The mighty Holy Lord of the Heavenly Court was laid bare before these ordinary people, and when they saw his remarkably impressive manhood, their eyes widened in shock.

The night grew quiet again.

Ye Chen remained in a deep sleep, now cleaned and resting on a comfortable bed.

Sometime later, the candlelight flickered in the room as a graceful figure slipped inside. It was the white-robed female scholar.

Now changed into women's clothing, she looked less like a scholar and more elegantly poised as a lady. Her face wasn't stunningly beautiful, but it had a captivating charm, like a blooming lotus—fresh and refined.

She moved lightly to the bed and hesitated before approaching. Seeing Ye Chen sleeping so peacefully, she paused.

Earlier, his face had been covered in blood, obscuring his features. Now, cleaned up under the dim candlelight, his sharply defined face was clear, carrying a unique aura of weariness that made her heart skip a beat.

Instinctively, she turned away, her hands clasped tightly, a blush rising on her cheeks.

The candlelight swayed, and the room fell silent once more.

She stood there for a long time, occasionally glancing back stealthily.

Perhaps this was what they called love at first sight—a sudden ripple in her heart, urging her to reach out and touch his weary, exhausted face.

"Miss, the master is here." A voice came from outside, clear and pleasant but urgent.

Startled, she pulled her hand back and dashed out of the room, stealing one last shy glance over her shoulder, her lips curving into a soft, womanly smile.

After she left, a middle-aged man in a python robe entered the room. This was the head of the Liu family in Wangu Cheng, Liu Qingquan.

"It's him." The accompanying Yang Uncle pointed to Ye Chen on the bed. "His inner force is extraordinarily strong—unmatched in the martial world today."

"Could he be a cultivator?" Liu Qingquan mused.

"Perhaps we should invite Master Ku Chan from the imperial city to take a look?" Yang Uncle suggested cautiously. "He's the only cultivator in the entire Tianxiang Kingdom. If anyone can figure this out, it's him."

"That might be wise. If he truly is an immortal, we mustn't offend him." Liu Qingquan exhaled deeply.

The night sky was profound, dotted with stars like dust.

Above the Panlong Sea Domain, figures like the Taixu Ancient Dragon and Dao Huang still stood outside the Wuwang Great Marsh, along with Xiao Chen and Long Teng, but they were at a loss.

"Could there be a chance," the old Zhuge man said, rubbing his heavenly eye as he looked around, "that he's already escaped the Wuwang Great Marsh? Maybe he's not even inside anymore."

"It's possible," the Tianzong Ancestor stroked his beard, "but if he had escaped, why hasn't he contacted the Heavenly Court? They have such a massive force—he couldn't be unaware."

"Perhaps he's badly injured," Zhong Jiang pondered, "or maybe unconscious."

"Any traces?" Hongchen Xue asked the gray-robed elder beside her—that was Liu Neng, renowned for tracking people.

"None." Liu Neng held a compass and shook his head helplessly. "Some mysterious force is blocking the signal. The Holy Lord is likely still in the Wuwang Great Marsh; otherwise, he wouldn't evade my tracking."