......
Hearing his na called, Household Departnt Minister Ni Bei's legs went weak on the spot.
And just monts ago, his youngest son Ni An, unable to dodge in ti, had died under Lu Ding's slash.
Now, standing beside Ni Bei was only his eldest son Ni Hui.
Both father and son had been nad.
Ni Bei did not want his family line to end, but with heaven closed and earth sealed, he could do nothing but wail painfully and shout loudly, "Your Majesty!!!!!!"
"Your Majesty, please save your old minister!!!"
"Even if you won't save your old minister, for all my years of service — though they were not glorious, they were loyal — I beg you to intervene and save my son!!!!!"
"Your Ma..."
Suddenly,
Ni Bei's shout cut off mid-syllable. An eerie cracking sound rang out, and Ni Bei's expression froze, his body slowly splitting apart from chest to waist, top and bottom separating, and his corpse collapsed to the ground with blood spraying. Soone looked forward and saw Lu Ding's hand still extended, not yet withdrawn.
His voice followed, laden with disdain: "I said, keep quiet."
Ni Bei's cultivation was respectable — after all, he was the Household Departnt Minister — but the Way of the Jinche slashes everything. It specializes in killing. Not to claim absolute equality among all beings, but ninety-nine percent of defenses would pale and fail before the eight words: Way of the Jinche, slashes all, severs nothing left standing.
The Household Departnt Minister's eightfold God Ascension cultivation and his life were no exception.
The splattered blood stained the faces of those kneeling nearby, including Ni Hui.
He stared at the scene in disbelief. "Fa...father...father!!!!"
He rose, his body trembling, about to support his father, but the Household Departnt Minister, cleaved in half by the Way of the Jinche, could no longer speak.
When he opened his mouth, dark red blood mixed with froth and bubbles gushed out continuously.
The waist wound did more than cut flesh; it severed his very existence.
The chanism of an ultimate offensive, paired with ultimate offensive values — Brother Full Responsibility deserved his reputation.
Facing Ni Hui's cries, Lu Ding only felt annoyed.
But he did not move to act.
At that mont, An Wuyang stepped forward without a sound, holding an octagonal seasoned copper warhamr by its head. He silently positioned himself behind the grieving Ni Hui, and an imposing aura spread out.
When Ni Hui turned and shouted a torrent of abuse at Lu Ding, "Lu Ding, aren't you—"
An Wuyang, warhamr in both hands, slamd a blow down onto Ni Hui's skull.
It did not shatter.
But blood poured out like a waterfall, streaming down his face.
After that first solid strike, An Wuyang did not stop: "Mongrel! Mongrel! You call a mongrel!!!! I have a father! I have a mother!!!!"
"I am not a mongrel!!!!"
The final hamr crushed Ni Hui's skull, sending him sprawling to the ground.
The pent-up resentnt of so many years erupted completely in that instant.
An Wuyang could no longer be bothered to call nas. Warhamr in hand, eyes blazing red, he swept the area and struck anyone in sight:
"Lowlife!! You insulted my mother!! How dare you insult my mother!! Do you know how long I searched for you!! Lowlife, lowlife, lowlife!!!!!!"
The Justice Departnt Minister's wife was beaten, crawling in a pool of blood!!
It had been she who, behind the scenes, accused An Wuyang's mother of having an affair with the current Jing Emperor, not knowing that strictly speaking, An Wuyang's mother should count as one of the emperor's descendants' wives many generations down the line.
This was a direct insult!!!
The woman who had been beaten crawled, soaked in blood, to the Justice Departnt Minister's side, clutching at his sleeve: "Master... Master, save ... Master..."
The Justice Departnt Minister shut his eyes and ignored her. He wouldn't listen.
As if it had nothing to do with him. In official life, he had lived by a personal code: speak little, do more, don't interfere, don't demand.
As fate would have it, he had married a group of wives who all had mouths.
They said whatever ca to mind. Maybe his reserved nature complented their loquacity, and he'd always been oddly fond of such won.
Now look at it...
He'd provoked soone he shouldn't have.
He had scolded those household ladies many tis to watch their words, but none of them listened; wherever they gathered, they chattered on.
Sigh...
All the Justice Departnt Minister could do was think to himself, "Take your ti, madam."
Only when An Wuyang beat the woman to death did the Justice Departnt Minister dare open his eyes. Blood had splashed onto his face, coloring him. He looked at An Wuyang, his face now cruel and ferocious.
For a mont, he did not know what to say.
He could only prostrate himself, bowing his head, and perford a solemn kowtow to An Wuyang. He disliked speaking, but that did not make him stupid.
With His Majesty's actions, the Filial Prince acting so unrestrainedly, and with the Great Han's Corpse-Shattering Taishui Lu Ding supporting him, the future position of Crown Prince — even the throne itself — would inevitably belong to this prince.
An Wuyang glanced at the Justice Departnt Minister and passed him by without stopping. If there was a grievance, there was a target and a debtor. As long as no one protected them, he would find soone who had offended him.
Then ca the next person.
As An Wuyang swung his seasoned copper warhamr, ready to crush the Assistant Minister of Rites whom Lu Ding had seized and then released earlier,
the Pestle Departnt's commander Yi Fang, who had been frozen in fear, suddenly sprang up, attempting to seize An Wuyang to buy himself a chance to live.
"Your Highness the Filial Prince, forgive !!!"
Unexpectedly, Lu Ding had been watching intently the whole ti, and only the instant Yi Fang moved did he act.
He leaped.
With Superman-like stride, each step a hundred ters, his fist blasted across to strike the cheek.
Bang!!!!
One punch shattered half of Yi Fang's face, thick blood streaming down.
Yi Fang's body flew aside.
Lu Ding's hand shifted from fist to grip.
He grabbed Yi Fang's braid midair, swung him up, and slamd him hard into the ground.
Thud!!!
He stepped on Yi Fang's back, ripped off the scalp, looking down with a lofty gaze, speaking with disdain: "Third-rate skills, and you dare say you've offended him?!"
"Ah!!! Ah!!! Ah..."
Yi Fang, pinned under Lu Ding's foot, reached out trembling to touch the torn scalp wound, letting out agonized cries, unable to get a single coherent word out.
Pain!!!
It burned.
A pain that hollowed him out.
Lu Ding paid him no heed. He took the braid, scalp and all, like a whip, and with a backhand lash struck the kneeling Ning Xiaofan.
Smack!!!
Ning Xiaofan's face split open.
This guy had always been a small-ti thug, who by chance entered the palace and displayed an unusual talent.
If things had gone normally, such a prodigy might not have been hard as a rock, but at least he would have so backbone.
Pity.
Ning Xiaofan possessed the stage of forced growth without the patience for gradual developnt.
Just one lash from a braid of skin, hair, and scalp, and he howled, half-crying, in pain.
"Ah!!!! Don't hit !!! Don't hit !!! I beg you, don't hit !!! Please!!!"
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