Huang Zhijun kicked the newcor’s foot and felt as if she had kicked a block of iron; her bone snapped instantly.
She collapsed to the ground in a mont, large beads of sweat rolling down her powdered face.
"What are you waiting for, take him down!"
The person appeared amidst the mist, vaguely discernible, not quite clear, but it was faintly visible that he was wearing the most common novice robe of Taichang Temple.
A re young monk, daring to ddle in the affairs of the daughter of Chief of Staff.
Only Xin Lin, upon hearing the chant of "Amitabha," twitched her eyelids and muttered to herself, wondering why the voice sounded sowhat familiar.
The Protectors beside her imdiately stepped forward, shouting.
"Where did this blind bald donkey co from! How dare you offend our young miss!"
They charged forward.
The Protectors of the Huang Residence were quite strong in their own right, each one of them at least a martial master.
So of them had hands like hooks, grabbing the person’s shoulders and twisting fiercely.
Others created a gust with their legs, aiming a sweeping leg kick at the opponent’s crotch.
And still others executed a Fierce Tiger Heart Plucking strike, directly aiming at the person’s chest, their movents both fast and ruthless.
Four or five of them sward up; even if the opponent had three heads and six arms, it would be hard to fend them off.
But as the hand grabbed the opponent’s shoulder, the shoulder gave a shake, and a trendous force struck the Protector.
With just a slight twist of his wrist, it snapped with a "crack."
The one targeting the chest felt as though he had collided with a wall, a powerful invisible force rebounding back, sending his body flying out like a falling leaf.
The one attempting a sneak attack below was t with an immovable opponent.
But as the opponent stomped the ground, the floor imdiately cracked, pebbles flying around, and the sharp chips shot straight at the faces of the Protectors behind.
The latter scread in agony, covering their mouths and noses, as blood stread down instantly.
In just the blink of an eye, several robust Protectors were left without the strength to fight back.
Huang Zhijun was startled; the surrounding mist cleared a bit, revealing the monk’s appearance to everyone.
At that mont, Huang Zhijun could see the young monk’s face clearly.
Such a handso monk.
The monk looked young, with handso and flawless facial features, and his entire being seed to bathe in a layer of golden light.
Though he was wearing nothing more than a common novice’s robe, it didn’t conceal his noble presence; it seed that even scolding him would be a desecration.
"Hey, it really is him!"
Xin Lin glanced at the newcor; such a pleasing-to-the-eye handso monk, it was feared that not just in Purple Cloud City but in the whole Longteng Country there was only this one.
The person was none other than the Imperial Censor monk whom she had encountered before in Ping’an County.
Monk Jun was probably the most handso monk Xin Lin had ever seen – even without hair, his good looks were unyielding; if he were in the modern era, he’d definitely be a huge star.
On the ground, several Protectors continued to wail in pain.
Huang Zhijun’s face also looked terrible, alternating between red and white.
At this mont, despite her usual arrogance, Huang Zhijun could see that this young monk was no ordinary individual.
With a single breath, he had disabled a Xuanwu Practitioner and several martial masters without breaking a sweat; this person’s cultivation was probably above that of a Xuanwu Practitioner.
Yet the young monk seed oblivious to the injured around him, his attention mostly on his palm.
On his slender and fair hand, instead of the usual string of Buddha Beads, there was a tiny ant.
The ant crawled around in the monk’s hand, utterly unaware that it had just narrowly escaped death.
Huang Zhijun looked ahead – the exit of the labyrinth had appeared.
Even if she had to suffer for it, eting the Minister of Imperial Sacrificial Worship made it worthwhile.
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