The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Wang Long couldn't help but laugh when he saw Qin Jiaojiao pouting, looking adorably defiant.

He squatted down to be at eye level with Qin Jiaojiao and gently pinched her cheek.

"Father was just testing the effect of words becoming law. I'm sorry, Jiaojiao."

"Alright, since Dad has admitted his mistake, I'll forgive you!"

Qin Jiaojiao stood with her hands on her hips, still fuming.

Xu Wanyun stood to the side, watching the interaction between the father and daughter, a gentle smile on her lips.

She stepped forward and said softly.

"Uncle Long, the time for the Warring States period is approaching. We should prepare to set off."

Wang Long nodded, his smile fading.

"it is good."

The next day.

Just as dawn was breaking, a huge carriage was parked outside the gate of Wenxin Academy.

The carriage was pulled by four pure white steeds, and its body was made of the finest sandalwood.

It is carved with exquisite patterns, exuding an ancient and elegant atmosphere.

Shen Qianqiu stood beside the carriage, having changed into a brand-new blue Confucian robe. He looked energetic and radiant.

Behind him stood two elderly men, the same burly and kind old man from the ceremony that day.

Both of them had changed into new clothes, with jade pendants hanging from their waists, exuding an extraordinary air.

Wang Long led Xu Wanyun and Qin Jiaojiao out of the academy.

Qin Jiaojiao carried a bulging little bag on her back, which was filled with snacks that Wang Long had prepared for her.

Little Chick perched on her shoulder, curled up into a ball of golden fluff, still dozing off.

Shen Qianqiu saw the three of them and greeted them with a smile.

"Brother Wang, are you ready?"

Wang Long clasped his hands in a salute.

"Brother Shen, are you ready?"

Shen Qianqiu nodded, his gaze falling on Qin Jiaojiao, and he stroked his beard and smiled.

"Is Jiaojiao going too?"

"Let's go join in the fun, no, I mean broaden our horizons!"

Qin Jiaojiao grinned.

"I want to cheer on my dad and my master!"

Shen Qianqiu laughed heartily.

"Okay, okay, let's go together then."

As he spoke, he stepped aside and made a "please" gesture.

"Get in the car. The center of Tianque City isn't far from here; it'll only take half a day."

Wang Long nodded and helped Xu Wanyun into the carriage.

He bent down and lifted Qin Jiaojiao up, then crawled in last himself.

The carriage slowly started moving, heading towards Tianque City along the mountain road.

The wheels rolled over the bluestone pavement, making a rhythmic sound.

Tianque City.

The venue for the Warring States Period.

When Wang Long and his party's carriage entered the city gate, the entire city was in an uproar.

The streets were packed with people, shoulder to shoulder.

There were swordsmen, scholars holding books, merchants in fine clothes, and travelers in a hurry.

People of all kinds gathered from all directions, crowding the entire Tianque City to the point of being impassable.

The restaurants and teahouses on both sides of the road were already packed, and the shouts of the waiters rose and fell.

"Please come in, sir! We have a private room upstairs!"

"We have the finest Daughter's Red wine! Would you like a pot, sir?"

"Steamed buns! Steaming hot steamed buns!"

The noise, hawking, and discussions mingled together, creating a deafening cacophony.

Qin Jiaojiao leaned against the car window, looking out with bright, sparkling eyes.

"Dad! Look at that person, he's so tall! Like a tower!"

Wang Long looked in the direction she pointed and saw a burly man standing on the side of the street. He was over ten feet tall, with muscles bulging all over his body, like a moving small mountain.

Behind him followed a dozen or so equally burly men, each with broad shoulders and a menacing air.

"That's a martial artist from the Northern Wilderness, born with superhuman strength and an invincible physique, almost unmatched among those of the same level."

Xu Wanyun explained softly.

Qin Jiaojiao gasped.

"That amazing?"

Wang Long smiled and ruffled her hair.

Qin Jiaojiao grinned and leaned back against the window to continue watching.

The carriage slowly made its way through the long street and arrived at the central square of Tianque City.

The square covers a vast area, spanning hundreds of feet in circumference. The ground is paved with neat bluestones, and the gaps are filled with white glutinous rice paste, making it as smooth as a mirror.

Dozens of large flags, embroidered with the emblems of various factions, fluttered in the wind around the square.

The square was now packed with people.

It was a dark, dense mass, stretching as far as the eye could see.

These people gathered in small groups, some standing, some sitting, some with their eyes closed to rest, some talking in hushed tones, some wiping their weapons, and some meditating cross-legged.

Without exception, they were all martial artists of the ninth rank or above.

Wang Long's gaze swept across the crowd, and he was secretly shocked.

Hundreds of dynasties, hundreds of thousands of ninth-rank martial artists.

There are really ninth-rank martial artists everywhere.

The strength of the Eastern Region is indeed far superior to that of a remote little place like the Great Qian Dynasty.

Shen Qianqiu led Wang Long and his group to a corner of the square, where Wenxin Academy was located.

A few chairs, a table, with a teapot and teacups on the table—simple yet dignified.

"Brother Wang, you all rest here. I'll go say hello to the other old fellows."

As Shen Qianqiu spoke, he walked towards the center of the square.

There, several elderly men with white hair were sitting together, talking in hushed tones.

As soon as Wang Long sat down, he felt a cold gaze fall on him.

He looked up and followed that gaze.

Across the square, an elderly man dressed in a black robe stood with his hands behind his back.

His face was gaunt, his eyes were sunken, and his eyes gleamed with a cold light, like two will-o'-the-wisps dancing in their sockets.

It was none other than the Grand Elder of the Puppet Spirit Sect, Puppet Three.

Kui San looked at Wang Long, a cold smile slowly creeping onto his lips.

He raised his hand, his withered fingers lightly tracing a line across his neck, making a throat-slitting motion.

A naked threat.

If it weren't for the fact that Tianque City couldn't take action, he would have loved to tear Wang Long to pieces with his own hands!

Xu Wanyun also saw it, her expression changed slightly, and she subconsciously tightened her grip on Wang Long's hand.

Qin Jiaojiao was so angry that her face turned red, and she jumped off the chair.

He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring angrily in the direction of Kui San.

"That old bastard! How dare he threaten my father!"

She rolled up her sleeves, looking like she was about to rush in and fight.

Wang Long grabbed her shoulder.

"Jiaojiao, calm down."

Kui San is very strong; Wang Long is not capable of dealing with him now.

He raised his head, looked at Kui San, and a mocking smile appeared on his lips.

Then raise your hand, extend your thumb, and slowly turn it downwards.

provocative.

A blatant provocation.

Anyway, it's absolutely safe here, so why would Wang Long be afraid of chicken feathers?

Seeing this, Qin Jiaojiao followed Wang Long's lead and did the same thing, a mocking smile on her lips.

Kui San's smile froze on his face, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.

He snorted coldly, turned around, and looked at the group of martial artists behind him.

Those people were all participants from dynasties within the territory of the Puppet Spirit Sect, numbering over a hundred, each a martial artist of rank nine or higher.

Kui San's voice was icy cold, ringing in everyone's ears.

"Do you see that old man?"

"He is Wang Long."

"Once inside the secret realm, kill him at all costs!"