Ex-Wife is a Big Villainess
Chapter 715 - 354: The Sword Demon’s Strike_2

Chapter 715: Chapter 354: The Sword Demon’s Strike_2

She didn’t bother to pick out which one was the Mystic Fire Talisman and simply threw all the talismans at the approaching leaf monsters.

Amid loud explosions, the talismans burst one after another.

Flames shot up sharply, instantly engulfing the eerie leaf monsters in their entirety.

The fire spread rapidly like wildfire, transforming everything it touched into a scorching sea. Even the maple forest was affected, crackling and popping under the heat.

Despite this, a considerable number of leaf monsters continued their pursuit, and even more appeared in front of them.

"There’s no way out. Don’t you have any magic treasures on you?"

Jiang Shouzhong asked breathlessly.

His words triggered an idea in the woman’s mind. Xiao Lingqiu snapped her wrist with force, scattering some golden powder from her sleeve, which she fanned out with the sleeve itself.

The golden powder dispersed in all directions.

What the hell is this?

Before Jiang Shouzhong could figure it out, the golden powder suddenly froze in place, forming thin golden walls of a barrier that securely encased them inside.

As Jiang Shouzhong kept running, the protective barrier moved along with him.

A few leaf monsters touched the golden barrier and were instantly blasted away, turning into a cloud of fine powder.

Jiang Shouzhong stared in astonishment.

"You have something so powerful! Why didn’t you use it earlier?"

"Move faster! This magic treasure can only last for thirty minutes!" Xiao Lingqiu reminded him.

"Just thirty minutes?"

Jiang Shouzhong couldn’t waste time complaining. He lowered his head and sped forward.

At this moment, he was like a mad bull charging into the dense crowd of leaf monsters. Each step sent countless monsters flying, instantly disintegrating into ashes.

And he did his best to protect the woman in his arms.

Throughout the bumpy journey, Xiao Lingqiu could clearly feel the breath he exuded and the occasional warmth brushing against her cheek from his hurried breathing.

This brought a peculiar and inexplicable feeling to her, making her cheeks beneath her disguise burn subtly.

But what embarrassed her the most...

The man’s arm that held her upper waist was pressing directly against the greatness of her right breast, occasionally causing some tugging pain.

Xiao Lingqiu naturally understood that the man wasn’t doing it intentionally.

Given the dire situation, he truly had no intention of taking advantage of her.

Still... it was something the Empress Dowager couldn’t let go of.

After who knows how long, Xiao Lingqiu noticed the man starting to slow down. She turned her head and saw that no leaf monsters were chasing them anymore.

The two of them had finally escaped the crisis.

Xiao Lingqiu let out a sigh of relief, turning to speak, but was momentarily stunned.

In her sight, the man’s handsome face was drenched in sweat. Droplets slid down his chin, while Jiang Shouzhong, panting heavily, gritted his teeth to remain standing.

Recalling that the man seemed injured, Xiao Lingqiu’s gaze softened a little.

"Damn it, what kind of crappy place is this?"

Jiang Shouzhong put the woman down, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he gasped and complained, "I’m telling you, you’re way too heavy. If I keep running, I’m really going to keel over."

The woman, who had been somewhat touched a moment ago, instantly had her face darken upon hearing his words.

Heavy?

Did he mean I’m fat?

No matter how composed Xiao Lingqiu was, she was still a woman. She immediately felt a bit triggered: "I’m heavy? I think you’re just too weak, can’t even carry a woman!"

"Say whatever you want."

Jiang Shouzhong waved his hand dismissively, leaning against a tree while taking deep breaths.

At that moment, he felt another sharp pain in his chest.

It was as though something was gripping it tightly.

Jiang Shouzhong suddenly recalled the nightmare he’d had earlier. Although the dream’s specifics were fuzzy, he faintly seemed to recognize a familiar figure.

"Qingchen?"

Jiang Shouzhong murmured.

The man looked up at the sky and sighed softly.

——

——

The morning in the capital was radiant and warm.

Sunlight poured through scattered clouds, casting a golden sheen on the weathered yet clean streets.

Pedestrians came and went.

Some leisurely, some hurriedly.

Among them was a figure that stood out strangely.

It was a middle-aged man dressed in a white scholar’s robe with an unremarkable appearance—someone you wouldn’t even notice in a crowd. But now, he seemed to carry an invisible aura that made others instinctively step aside.

The man walked at an unhurried pace.

Every step was solid and deliberate.

But when onlookers turned back, his figure had already vanished into the distance, leaving nothing but a blurred memory.

As the man reached the Imperial Palace gates, countless heavily armed Imperial Army soldiers encircled him.

The long halberds that had previously stood upright were now pointing their sharp tips at the scholar’s robe-clad figure. It was as if even the heavens were shaken by the oppressive air, causing dark clouds to gather overhead.

The man paid no attention and continued stepping towards the palace gates.

The Imperial Army instinctively took a step back.

The surroundings fell silent, save for the faint sound of armor scraping.

Tension permeated the atmosphere.

The general of the Imperial Army, who had boasted to the Emperor about capturing this Sword Cultivator with ease, now sat petrified atop his horse, as if his throat was being choked, unable to utter a single word.

It wasn’t until the black-robed man appeared at the palace gate that the suffocatingly strong pressure cracked slightly, allowing the soldiers present to breathe again.

"You’re late."

Zhao Wuxiu stared at Yan Changqing.

Usually in a blue robe, Yan Changqing was now dressed in a white scholar’s robe hand-sewn by his wife in his youth. As he gazed at the grand and towering palace, he smiled and said, "Not too late."

Zhao Wuxiu said, "Are you really planning to let your daughter fall to demonic corruption?"

"What is ’demonic’?"

Yan Changqing unfastened the wine flask at his waist, sniffed it slightly, and countered with a question, "I—you, Yan Changqing—am called the Sword Demon. Does that make me demonic, too?"

Zhao Wuxiu said nothing.

Yan Changqing suddenly started coughing violently, taking a long while to catch his breath.

"There’s no need for this," Zhao Wuxiu remarked, his expression conflicted.

Yan Changqing looked down at the bloodstains on his handkerchief and smiled, saying:

"In the end, I’m still required to deliver a gift. After all, for my daughter to receive such special treatment, I must show gratitude to the lofty one above—otherwise, people might think Yan Changqing is incompetent."

He raised his head, gazing toward the Golden Throne Hall, murmuring, "Qingxu, you once said you wanted to see what the Emperor’s throne looked like. This time, I’ll have a look for you."

"How many strikes?" Zhao Wuxiu asked.

"Just one,"

Yan Changqing slowly lifted a wooden sword from his waist, saying with a grin, "Whether it blocks or doesn’t block, one strike—no more, no less. Once it’s delivered, I’ll leave."

...

Inside the Golden Throne Hall, the atmosphere was solemn.

The civil and military officials on both sides lowered their heads, not daring to offend the heavenly might above.

"They say power is battled for in the court, and chivalry is contested in Jianghu. One represents the weight of the throne; the other, the heart of the commonfolk... But in my view, so-called Jianghu chivalry is nothing more than profit-chasing, worse than dogs and pigs in their scheming."

Seated upon the dragon throne, Zhou Chang squinted towards the palace gates, his gloomy face showing a hint of mockery.

"The Sword Demon is no exception. Zhao Wuxiu... no exception either."

Upon hearing this, the officials lowered their heads further.

Come on, Your Majesty, the guy’s out there fighting enemies for you. Isn’t badmouthing him behind his back inappropriate?

"The world belongs to the people. The people are my descendants. Since ancient times, it’s been the duty of stern fathers to discipline their children, not the other way around—sons rebelling against their fathers."

Zhou Chang smirked lazily, leaning back in the throne as he said, "I’ll sit here and watch—whether Jianghu is vast, or my court towers higher."

As Zhou Chang finished speaking, a black dot appeared in the distance.

As it drew nearer, everyone was shocked to see it was a human figure—Zhao Wuxiu!

Zhao Wuxiu was clutching his hands tightly, his face contorted.

He seemed to be holding something between his palms.

"Out of the way!"

Zhao Wuxiu, bleeding from seven orifices, roared furiously.

The officials froze.

Only after seeing Zhao Wuxiu tearing a deep trench into the ground did panic scatter them in all directions.

Yet Zhou Chang remained seated on his dragon throne, his expression unyielding.

He gripped the dragon-shaped armrest tightly, his eyes brimming with haughty determination.

He was the True Dragon Emperor—how could he be intimidated by a mere Sword Cultivator from Jianghu?

Zhao Wuxiu kept retreating, crashing through a jade balustrade, breaking a pillar, and smashing a stone lion—but he could not suppress the overwhelming Sword Qi.

"Out of the way!"

Barreling into the Golden Throne Hall, Zhao Wuxiu shouted again.

This time at the Emperor.

But Zhou Chang still sat firmly on the dragon throne.

He stared coldly at that indomitable Sword Qi, his back ramrod straight.

As he watched stone tiles fly apart, the palace gate collapse, the walls crack, and Zhao Wuxiu forced to sidestep, Zhou Chang’s body couldn’t help but tremble.

"Yan! Chang! Qing!"

Endless fury and hatred clenched through his teeth.

Zhou Chang cursed in anger and hurriedly jumped aside.

BOOM!

The golden dragon throne was split into two.

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