One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

The shadow on the roof shifted.

Immediately afterwards, a helpless sigh drifted down with the evening breeze.

"Master, you have excellent eyesight."

"I haven't even found a place to stay yet, and you've already found me out."

A slender figure leaped lightly from the rooftop, moving as gracefully as a cat landing silently.

A dark blue suit, a neat white shirt, and those signature squinty eyes and smooth blue hair.

Zhuge Qing held a folding fan in his hand, but did not open it. Instead, he gently tapped his palm.

He stopped a few meters away from Zhang Taichu, his facial expression perfectly controlled, showing three parts surprise, three parts admiration, and four parts just the right amount of embarrassment.

"Junior Zhuge Qing greets Daoist Taichu."

Zhuge Qing bowed slightly, performing an impeccable junior's greeting:

"I was just passing through, but I heard that Biyou Village has beautiful scenery, so I thought I'd come and take a look."

"Unexpectedly, I ran into the Taoist priest here... on business."

"I'll be leaving now, so as not to disturb your enjoyment."

After saying that, he turned around and tried to slip away, his speed even faster than the speed at which he spoke.

"stop."

Zhang Taichu's voice drifted over lightly, without any stern tone, yet it caused Zhuge Qing's right foot, which had just stepped out, to dangle in mid-air.

"Since you're already here, why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

Zhang Taichu leaned back in his armchair, his teacup tilting slightly, spilling a few drops of tea onto the floor.

"Perfect timing, I'm just short of someone to serve tea and water."

"Your clothes look quite nice; you don't look like someone who does manual labor."

"However..."

Zhang Taichu tossed it casually.

The chipped porcelain teacup traced an arc through the air, heading straight for Zhuge Qing's face.

"then."

"If you spill a drop, I'll sew up your proud squinty eyes."

Zhuge Qing's heart skipped a beat.

He whirled around, his hands flashing through the air, and narrowly managed to catch the teacup.

The tea was swirling violently in the cup, and it looked like it was about to overflow the rim.

Zhuge Qing's wrist twitched subtly a few times, using a gentle force to forcefully suppress the surging tea.

"call……"

Zhuge Qing secretly breathed a sigh of relief, a fine layer of sweat appearing on his forehead.

He looked at Zhang Taichu with a wry smile; the confident smile that was always on his face now seemed somewhat stiff.

"Master, you..."

"I'm not a professional waiter either."

"Stop talking nonsense."

Zhang Taichu pointed to his side:

"Stand there."

"Hold it properly."

"If it gets cold, you'll be held responsible."

Zhuge Qing's lips twitched slightly.

As a descendant of Zhuge Liang's Qimen Dunjia and a genius of the Zhuge family, he was always respected and revered wherever he went.

When have you ever been treated like this?

To be a tea-serving boy for an old Taoist priest?

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he saw the huge palm print that had been slammed into the ground not far away, and Ma Xianhong kneeling at the bottom of the pit like a dead dog.

Gudong.

Zhuge Qing swallowed hard, wisely shut his mouth, and obediently walked to Zhang Taichu's side, holding the teacup with both hands and standing straight.

"That's more like it."

Zhang Taichu nodded in satisfaction.

And just then...

"roar--!!!"

On the battlefield over there, the situation spiraled out of control once again.

The hundreds of villagers who had been thrown out by Zhang Chulan and Wang Ye actually stood up again, swaying, after a brief period of unconsciousness.

Moreover, this time, their condition was even more bizarre.

The skin on everyone's body began to turn red, like boiled shrimp, the red light in their eyes was almost bursting out, and they let out a beast-like growl.

That's a sign of overdrawing one's vitality.

The side effects of losing the Body Refinement Furnace are now fully manifesting.

"Holy crap! Is this never going to end?!"

Zhang Chulan, seeing the crowd surging in like a tide, screamed in despair:

"Are these guys using some kind of invincibility cheat?"

"Old Wang! Stop posing! Hurry up and think of something!"

"What the hell..."

Wang Ye was also suffering in silence at this moment.

He stood in the center of the crowd, the Tai Chi symbol beneath his feet appearing and disappearing, but each turn became exceptionally difficult.

Although these villagers did not possess Qi, the extremely chaotic causal threads were like countless tangled hemp fibers, tightly binding him.

"no……"

Wang Ye gritted his teeth, and two streams of bright red blood flowed from his nostrils:

There are too many people...

"If I were to forcibly interfere with the fates of so many people, the backlash would kill me on the spot!"

"Damn it! I'll risk it!"

Wang Ye roared, clasped his hands together, and the Qimen formation beneath his feet expanded wildly.

"The chaotic clapper!!!"

hum-

The air jolted suddenly.

The dozen or so villagers at the front slowed down instantly, as if they had been put on slow motion.

But then...

puff!

Wang Ye spat out a mouthful of blood, as if he had been struck in the chest by a heavy hammer. He staggered back several steps and sat down on the ground with a thud.

The newly formed Qimen formation collapsed instantly.

The villagers paused for less than a second before roaring and charging forward again.

It looked like countless hoes and sickles were about to fall on Wang Ye's head.

"waste."

A cold snort came from the direction of the armchair.

next second.

A golden light lashed out like a whip, striking the ground with a crack.

The air currents surged.

The villagers who rushed up were sent flying by the whip, landing more than ten meters away, unable to get up for a long time.

Zhang Taichu remained seated in his chair, without even turning his head.

He merely glanced sideways at Wang Ye, who was sitting on the ground, his face covered in blood, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment and frustration:

"The King."

"What are you doing?"

"Should I be carrying manure?"

Wang Ye wiped the blood from his face, panting with a bitter smile:

"Primordial Ancestor... don't just stand there and talk like you don't understand the situation..."

"The lives of these hundreds of people... these are like hundreds of mountains..."

"I'm just a mortal, how could I possibly carry that..."

"Who told you to carry it?"

Zhang Taichu interrupted his complaint.

He held up one finger, pointing to the dark night sky above, then to the ground beneath Wang Ye's feet:

"Feng Hou Qi Men, that is the authority to govern this land."

"I didn't ask you to be a porter."

"What you need to do is set the rules, not fight against them."

Zhang Taichu's voice suddenly turned serious, exuding a majesty that seemed to point directly to the core of the Dao:

"They are human beings, they have a destiny, they have karma, of course you can't bear it."

"But in this Qimen formation..."

"Besides people, what else is there?"

Wang was stunned.

He stared blankly at Zhang Taichu, as if a lightning bolt had struck his mind.

Besides people...

What else?

"time."

Zhang Taichu uttered two words calmly:

"Why do you care what they want to do, or where they want to go?"

"All you need to do is cut off time in this space."

Even if it's just for a second.

"For this very second, you are the only god here."

That's enough.

Wang Ye's pupils suddenly contracted.

He didn't bother wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth; he supported himself with his hands on the ground and slowly stood up.

Cut off…

It's not about controlling a person's speed or changing their location.

Instead, it went directly...

Should we make a move against this particular space-time continuum?

"this……"

Wang Ye's hands were trembling.

It was an extreme madness, and also an extreme temptation.

"Watch closely."

Zhang Taichu didn't continue speaking. Instead, he turned his head and glanced at Zhuge Qing, who was holding a teacup and listening intently.

"And you."

"Little Zhuge Liang"

"Open those squinty eyes of yours wider."

Zhang Taichu pointed to Wang Ye in the arena:

"Stop thinking about crooked methods all day long, stop scheming about external forces or furnaces."

"Take a good look."

"What is true skill?"

Zhuge Qing was startled.

He subconsciously looked at Wang Ye.

The Taoist priest, who was always lazy and lacked motivation, had completely changed his demeanor.

Wang Ye closed his eyes.

He no longer looked at the ferocious villagers, nor did he try to understand the chaotic cause and effect.

He just stood there quietly, like a pillar of strength.

call--

The wind stopped.

It is not an adjective.

It has really stopped.

Zhuge Qing could clearly feel that the surrounding air had frozen in that instant.

Wang Ye suddenly opened his eyes.

Those eyes no longer held their usual languor; instead, they shone with a chilling, deep blue light.

He raised his right hand, joined his index and middle fingers together, and gently tapped the surging crowd.

His lips moved slightly, uttering four words:

"The chaotic clapper".

"town."

Om-! ! !

There was no earth-shattering explosion.

There were no dazzling lighting effects either.

The world fell silent.

At that moment, Zhuge Qing felt his heart skip a beat.

In his field of vision.

The hundreds of villagers charging forward, the dust billowing in the air, the sickles half-swung, even the terrified expression on Zhang Chulan's face.

All.

Freeze.

It's like a photo that's been paused.

Apart from Zhang Taichu, Zhuge Qing, and the sorcerer Wang Ye, the only other people in the entire square were...

Everything is still.

"Huff... huff..."

Wang Ye maintained that pointing gesture, looking as if he had been pulled out of the water, his Taoist robe instantly soaked with sweat.

But he smiled.

It was a heartfelt, joyful laugh that came from having truly understood something.

puff.

Wang Ye could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. He gave Zhang Taichu a thumbs-up.

"Master..."

"That's what you call...professionalism."

Zhang Taichu curled his lip, looking completely unconvinced:

"So-so."

"It's barely watchable."

After he finished speaking, he turned his head and looked at Zhuge Qing beside him.

Zhuge Qing remained in the same position, holding the teacup.

But his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Fine ripples spread across the surface of the water in the teacup.

That was breathtaking.

It was terror.

It's more of a deep-seated sense of...frustration.

Is this the Eight Extraordinary Skills?

Is this Feng Hou Qi Men?

Control time, suppress space.

Compared to this power, his Zhuge family's Martial Marquis Qimen, his proudest talent...

What does it count for?

It's like fireflies vying for brilliance with the bright moon.

"What's wrong?"

Zhang Taichu's voice rang in his ears, like a sharp knife, directly cutting open the most hidden wound in his heart:

Why are your hands shaking?

"Is the tea too hot?"

"still……"

Zhang Taichu leaned closer, staring at Zhuge Qing's eyes, which had finally opened a crack, a cruel smile playing on his lips:

Are you feeling confused?