Starting as a prodigy wanting milk? A world-destroying deception in the opposite direction.

The three days passed in the blink of an eye.

That morning, the capital was in complete uproar.

The streets leading to Qitian Palace were packed with people who spontaneously came to watch.

The disciples of Zhen Nian Tang, dressed in uniforms, released their spiritual power on both sides of the street, forming an invisible barrier to separate the crowd, while government officials and yamen runners moved among them to maintain order.

The Qitian Hall Square was under heavy security.

The central white jade altar was engraved with intricate runes, and twelve dragon-carved pillars surrounded it. The faint smoke of incense for calming the mind drifted in the air, barely suppressing the surrounding commotion.

Ling Buyu, Shen Zhen, Lei Lie, Han Yan, Tie Xuan, and others stood in the Jingxie Division area.

His gaze remained fixed on the direction of the temple's higher-ups the entire time.

Everyone in Qitian Palace is in position.

Mu Qingfeng, dressed in a moon-white robe, was discussing the ceremony procedures with Wei Wenzhao, the solemn deputy hall master in black.

A young woman holding a book stood to the side; she was Chu Yao, the observer, who occasionally added a few words.

Ye Zhi Qiu put away his usual leisurely folding fan and stood solemnly near Chu Yao, his gaze frequently glancing towards the Jingxie Division, clearly looking for Han Yan.

What's even more eye-catching is the white-haired old man beside Mu Qingfeng.

He was dressed in a gray robe, and the calm aura of a high-level Divine Master emanated from him, making the surrounding disciples dare not slack off.

"That's Senior Yun Tianhe."

Shen Zhenglan's voice rang out beside Shen Zhen. He had appeared there at some point, his gaze sweeping over the gray-robed elder, his tone carrying a hint of respect.

"In his early years, he was the pillar of Qitian Palace, a sixth-level peak Divine Master, and Palace Master Mu was his personal disciple."

Four years ago, when your mother had the accident...

He had also suppressed a small-scale attack by the Wrath of God, and then went into seclusion. No one expected him to personally intervene this time.

Shen Zhen nodded, memorizing Yun Tianhe's appearance.

The old man's face was deeply lined with wrinkles, but his eyes were clear and bright. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if he was sensing something. Although he stood in the crowd without saying a word, he had an aura as steady as a pillar of strength.

As the two were talking, the temple's high-ranking officials had gradually gathered on both sides of the Fushen Platform.

Shen Zhenglan spoke again in a low voice, introducing each person to Shen Zhen one by one:

"The one wearing the crimson robe is Gu Qing, the chief celestial official of the main temple. You should be able to recognize him by his attire."

Standing beside him in black was his deputy, Su Wenyuan, who also served as the head of the Ceremonial Office;

The person behind the Heavenly Official is his eldest son, Gu Chengye, a fourth-level Divine Protector and a member of the Suppressing Thoughts Hall.

The one in the beige dress is the second daughter, Gu Qingshuang, who is said to be skilled at observing the emotional fluctuations of gods and is very close to Observer Chu Yao.

Shen Zhen followed his gaze.

Gu Qing was tall and imposing, with a dignified face. His crimson robe was embroidered with intricate cloud patterns, and his every move exuded the composure of a superior.

Gu Chengye exuded a sharp aura, his gaze sweeping across the room with a scrutinizing quality, as if he were checking for potential problems.

"The black-veiled sedan chair at the far end,"

Shen Zhenglan's gaze fell on an inconspicuous black sedan chair at the edge of the square.

"Inside is the former Chief Celestial Official, Elder Xuanji, who had long since retired from worldly affairs. I never expected him to attend this God-Soothing Ceremony."

The man beside the sedan chair with eyes like knives was Wuying, his personal shadow guard commander.

His strength is unfathomable; no one has ever seen him use his full power.

Shen Zhen looked at the black gauze sedan chair, which was surrounded by a faint barrier of mental energy, making it impossible to see what was inside.

Only Wuying, standing to one side, had his aura completely restrained, as if he had merged with the air.

Below the Fushen Terrace, a burly man clad in golden armor and wielding a long spear stood out. The spear tip gleamed coldly, and behind him, the Imperial Guards stood in perfect formation, their imposing presence overwhelming.

"That's Hongwu, the Grand Commander of the Temple's Imperial Guards," Shen Zhenglan said.

"A peak fourth-tier Divine Protector, skilled in commanding battles, responsible for the defense of the entire temple."

He was the chief celestial official's confidant.

Just as Shen Zhen had memorized these figures, a series of orderly footsteps echoed from the entrance of the square, accompanied by the crisp clanging of ceremonial guards.

The royal family has arrived.

Emperor Feng Hongyi, clad in a dragon robe, possessed a dignified and imposing presence, his steps steady. Behind him followed Empress Qi Hongyu, dressed in a phoenix robe, her makeup exquisite and her expression solemn.

Crown Prince Feng Xun, dressed in a bright yellow robe, walked beside the Empress with a perfectly timed smile on his lips. His gaze swept across the square and landed on Shen Zhen.

Their eyes met briefly.

Feng Xun's eyes remained calm and undisturbed, as if the kidnapping had never happened.

Shen Zhen's heart sank, his mental power quietly gathered, and his fingertips tightened slightly.

"The woman in the purple dress next to Feng Xun is Princess Feng Dai," Shen Zhenglan said, his voice carrying a hint of coldness.

"He is arrogant, very close to Feng Xun, and has many powerful forces supporting him."

The one in the blue robe had a wandering gaze; he was the Third Prince, Feng Yu, who had no ambition and spent his days indulging in pleasure.

The youngest boy in the green robe was the Fourth Prince, Feng Shuo. He was still young and innocent.

Unlike other members of the royal family.

Shen Zhen looked over and saw Feng Dai, with a slender figure and a bright purple dress, casually surveying the crowd with a hint of disdain in her eyes.

Feng Yu frequently glanced at the young women in the square, a frivolous smile playing on his lips;

The fourth prince, Feng Shuo, was about ten years old. He looked around curiously, occasionally tugging at the sleeve of the guard beside him, which was out of place with the solemn atmosphere around him.

Wang Juan, Liu Xubai, Shen Moyan, and others from the Ceremonial Department were also in place, dressed in uniform dark blue robes, standing solemnly on one side of the square.

When Shen Zhen saw Shen Moyan, the other person also happened to look over, nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and looked at her with some concern.

"father!"

A clear voice rang out, and Shen Xuan, dressed in a light pink dress, ran quickly to Shen Zhenglan's side, her face flushed with excitement.

"There are so many people here! It's even more lively than the lantern festival!"

Shen Zhenglan frowned slightly, reached out and pulled her to his side, his tone serious:

"Xuan'er, behave yourself. This is not a place to play around. Stay close to me and don't run around."

"Okay, Dad!" Shen Xuan stuck out her tongue, but her eyes couldn't help but dart around. When she saw Shen Zhen,

"Brother, so you were here. I didn't see you at all."

Shen Zhen's lips curled up slightly as she said softly:

"Sister, today's occasion is different from usual, please don't act like you're at home."

Shen Xuan nodded obediently, then looked around curiously, her eyes full of wonder.

The entire square was now filled with experts, and the auras of various forces intertwined, forming an invisible pressure that enveloped the entire area.

Although the crowds on both sides of the street and around the square were packed with people, it was unusually quiet.

They even spoke in hushed tones, afraid of disturbing this sacred ceremony.

Beneath this solemn surface, undercurrents still flow.

Feng Xun's act of forcibly taking Jin Wanquan away from the Jingxie Division a few days ago has already aroused widespread dissatisfaction among the temple's high-ranking officials, but no one will openly express their dissatisfaction in front of such an important ceremony.

At 3:45 AM, Mu Qingfeng slowly walked up the white jade altar.

He raised his hand to signal, and the noise in the square instantly dissipated, even the wind seemed to stand still.