Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body.

Chapter 71 Yang Jian, you'd better give me an explanation.

Yang Jian didn't give him a chance, and went straight over to grab his neck, tightening his grip.

Yan didn't even see how Yang Jian moved.

He felt a tightness around his neck, and his whole body was lifted up, with his feet off the ground.

He looked down at Yang Jian, his eyes filled with fear.

"What are you doing!" He struggled desperately, trying to pry Yang Jian's fingers off with both hands, but Yang Jian's hand was like an iron clamp, not moving an inch.

Yang Jian smiled, but the smile was cold.

"Of course I'll kill you."

"Otherwise, people will think I'm easy to bully, and that anyone can ride roughshod over me."

Yan's struggles intensified.

He was naked and wet, like a fish that had been thrown ashore.

"You're framing me! I didn't do anything!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Let me go! Do you know what the consequences are for killing someone in the Spirit Hall? Even if you're His Holiness the Pope's disciple, you can't escape punishment!"

"Let go now, and I can pretend nothing happened."

Yang Jian found it very annoying.

He raised his hand and slapped her.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of a slap echoed in the room.

Yan's head suddenly tilted to one side, half of his face swollen up, and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

He was in so much pain that tears were welling up in his eyes, and he could barely speak.

"You bastard—you bastard—I'm going to complain to His Holiness the Pope—you're framing an innocent person—"

Yang Jian slapped him again.

"Snapped!"

This time, it's the other side of the slap.

Yan's cheeks were swollen, his eyes were squeezed into slits, and blood was flowing from his nose and mouth. He looked like a real pig's head.

Yang Jian stopped talking nonsense, released his neck, grabbed his ear, and dragged him outside.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!"

Yan screamed in pain, covering his ears with both hands, as he was dragged outside.

He was naked, the medicine dripping from his body, leaving a wet trail on the ground.

Yang Jian pushed open the door and dragged Yan into the corridor.

The trainees in the pharmacy were all stunned.

They stared blankly at Yan's naked body, and at Yang Jian pulling his ear, completely bewildered and unable to understand what was going on.

"Brother Jian, what is this—"

"What happened?"

"Senior Brother Yan, what did you do to offend Brother Jian?"

There were murmurs and discussions, but no one stepped forward to stop them.

Although they did not know Yang Jian's true identity, they all knew of his strength.

The sword strike that took place in the martial arts arena six years ago is still talked about with great interest.

Running over to stop them would only be asking for trouble.

Someone whispered, speculating, "Could it be because of Senior Sister Hu Liena?"

This speculation immediately sparked further discussion.

"Possibly!"

"Who in the Spirit Hall doesn't know that Senior Brother Yan likes Senior Sister Hu Liena?"

"He goes around trying to curry favor with her every day, Jian-ge must be annoyed."

"Tsk tsk, this is a crime of passion."

"Don't talk nonsense, Brother Jian and Senior Sister Hu Liena haven't officially started a relationship."

"Do we even need to be sure? Look at how they act, how are they any different from a couple?"

Yan felt ashamed and indignant upon hearing these comments.

He's in this state now, naked, being dragged along by his ears, just like being stripped naked and paraded through the streets.

He wished he could disappear into a crack in the ground.

He wanted to resist.

Possessing a martial spirit might allow them to put up a fight.

He gritted his teeth and channeled his soul power.

Yang Jian didn't even turn his head before slapping him again.

"Snapped!"

Yan's head was buzzing, and the skin on his face was broken, bleeding profusely.

The soul power he had painstakingly gathered instantly dissipated.

He slumped down like a deflated balloon.

The enormous disparity in strength made him feel desperate.

He didn't understand. Given Ning Fengzhi's personality, upon receiving that letter, he would definitely send out Sword Douluo or Bone Douluo, or even both of them together.

Yang Jian only had Yue Guan by his side, and normally he shouldn't have come back alive.

Did Ning Fengzhi not send anyone to intercept and kill them at all?

Or did things go wrong?

Did he even tell Yang Jian that he was the one who delivered the letter?

A pang of regret welled up in Yan's heart.

If I had known this would happen, I shouldn't have written that letter in the first place.

Yang Jian dragged Yan out of the pharmacy and slowly walked towards the Spirit Hall Square.

I met quite a few people along the way.

The deacons, guards, and students of the Spirit Hall all looked puzzled upon seeing this scene.

Some people stopped, some followed behind, and the murmurs grew louder and louder.

"Is that Yan? Why is he being dragged along?"

"Who is the person dragging him?"

"you do not know?"

His name is Yang Jian.

"Tsk tsk, is this a public parade?"

More and more people followed behind, from dozens to hundreds.

Yan shrank his neck, lowered his head, and dared not look at his surroundings.

His face was swollen like a pig's head, and tears and snot mixed together, making him look particularly pitiful.

Fifteen minutes later, Yang Jian finally arrived at the square.

The plaza is the largest open space in the Spirit Hall, and it is usually used for various ceremonies and large-scale events.

The ground was paved with huge stone slabs, and in the very center stood a statue of the Pope that was ten feet tall.

Yang Jian stopped and loosened his grip on Yan's ear.

Yan collapsed to the ground, curled up, trembling.

His fighting spirit had been completely extinguished, and he didn't even dare to look at Yang Jian.

The hundreds of people following behind also stopped, gathered around the square, and whispered among themselves.

At this moment, several figures emerged from the crowd.

They are all mid-to-high-level powerhouses of the Spirit Hall, some of whom are Soul Saints and some of whom are Soul Douluos. They are responsible for managing the daily affairs of the Spirit Hall.

They rushed over after receiving the news, and their brows furrowed when they saw Yan's appearance.

They had heard of Yang Jian before, and almost all of them had sent their younger relatives to meet him, but they were unaware of Yang Jian's true identity.

All that is known is that Yue Guan often teaches Yang Jian, and His Holiness the Pope seems to value him highly.

This alone is enough to prove that Yang Jian is no ordinary person.

"Yang Jian." A Soul Douluo with gray hair stepped forward, speaking politely, "What's going on here? If you have a grudge against Yan, you can report it. His Holiness the Pope will handle it personally. This is not a good thing."

Yang Jian glanced at these people indifferently.

"The feud between me and him can never be resolved. He is doomed to die today. It's best if you all stay out of this."

Everyone was stunned by these words.

Certain death?

He wants to kill Yan of the Golden Generation in front of so many people in the Spirit Hall's plaza?

The Contra player's face immediately darkened.

"Yang Jian, Yan is, after all, a member of the Spirit Hall's Golden Generation, with the potential to become a Title Douluo. How could you kill him so easily? In my opinion, we should tell Her Majesty the Pope about this and see what she decides."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a clear, cold voice came from above the square.

"Yang Jian, you had better give me an explanation."

Everyone's eyes turned simultaneously in the direction from which the sound came.

Bibi Dong descended from the sky.

She wore a black robe with gold trim, held a scepter, and her wine-red hair was tied up with a purple-gold crown, reaching down to her waist.

Her face was exquisitely beautiful, almost perfect, and expressionless. Her purple eyes looked down at Yang Jian with scrutiny and pressure.

Yue Guan and Gui Mei followed behind her, one on her left and one on her right.

"Welcome, His Holiness the Pope!"

Everyone in the square bowed in unison, their voices perfectly synchronized.

Yang Jian stood still, neither bending down nor bowing.

He looked up at Bibi Dong, his expression calm, his gaze unwavering.

Yue Guan glanced at Yang Jian, a complex look flashing in her eyes.

The ghostly figure was shrouded in black mist, its expression obscured.

Bibi Dong landed on the square, her scepter striking the ground with a dull thud.

She looked at Yang Jian, then at Yan, who was curled up on the ground, naked and covered in blood, and her beautiful eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"explain."

Bibi Dong's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority as she looked at Yang Jian.

The square was completely silent; everyone was looking at Yang Jian, waiting for his answer.