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

Wang Long patted Xiao Qiu's neck, and Xiao Qiu flapped its wings and soared into the sky with its golden form.

Shen Qianqiu looked up at the golden light that was getting farther and farther away, and chuckled and cursed.

"Kid, remember to come back and check on your brother soon!"

The outline of Wenxin Academy gradually shrank in the clouds and mist. Qin Jiaojiao lay on the bird's back and looked down, shouting at the top of her lungs.

"Dean! We're leaving! We'll bring you something delicious next time we come back!"

At the mountain gate, Shen Qianqiu stood with his hands behind his back, stroking his beard with a smile, until the golden figure completely disappeared into the clouds before slowly turning around.

High in the sky, Little Chirp spreads its wings, its golden feathers gliding across the azure sky.

Ye Niannu leaned against Wang Long's side, while Xu Wanyun sat on his other side. The two exchanged a glance across Wang Long and smiled at each other.

Qin Jiaojiao lay on the ground in front, her hands supporting her chin as she gazed at the surging sea of ​​clouds below, her little legs swinging back and forth in the air.

"father!"

She turned around and shouted.

When will we get there?

"soon!"

Wang Long smiled and stroked Qin Jiaojiao's head.

He was also eager to return home.

Luo Hanyi is pregnant with his child; I wonder how she is now.

"Huh? That figure down there looks familiar~"

Ye Niannu suddenly shouted.

Upon hearing this, Wang Long looked in the direction Ye Niannu indicated.

On the mountain path below, Qin Minglan rode the Snow-Treading Horse with all her might, running forward.

But its speed had slowed down significantly, and it was exhaling heavy white breath from its mouth and nose.

Several dark red bloodstains stained Qin Minglan's robes, and he lay hunched over the horse's neck, looking as if he might fall off at any moment.

About a hundred feet behind her, several black figures were hot on her heels.

They flew on their magical artifacts at great speed, their weapons gleaming with a cold light.

Occasionally, one or two attacks would sweep forward, but they were barely dodged.

Qin Minglan gritted her teeth and gripped the reins tightly with both hands.

Several wounds on her body were still bleeding, her vision was blurring, and the sound of the wind and the sounds of pursuit behind her were mixed together, vague and distant.

Qin Minglan knew that Ta Xue wouldn't last much longer.

This spirited steed had accompanied her for three days and nights, and was already at its limit.

The people behind them were all martial artists of at least the seventh rank, with the leader even possessing the aura of the eighth rank.

She can't die.

At least, I can't die here.

She hasn't found Wang Long yet, nor has she told him about the Great Qian Dynasty.

Suddenly, Ta Xue's front hooves stepped on a protruding pebble, and the already exhausted horse lurched to the side, letting out a neigh.

It fell headfirst forward.

Qin Minglan was thrown out by the inertia, rolled several times on the ground, and only stopped when she crashed into the earthen slope beside the mountain road.

The fall tore open her wounds, causing excruciating pain. She groaned, her vision went black, and she nearly fainted.

Several black figures had caught up and landed from the sky, surrounding her.

The leader was dressed in a gray robe, with a cold face, and held a long knife in his hand, the blade still stained with undried blood.

He looked down at Qin Minglan, who was lying on the ground, and a cold smile appeared on his lips.

"Run away! Why aren't you running away anymore?"

Qin Minglan tried to get up by supporting herself on the ground, but her arms were shaking so badly that she couldn't muster any strength.

She raised her head, her face covered in blood, yet she still stared intently at the man, her voice hoarse.

"You...are people from the Great Zhao?"

The gray-robed man did not answer, but simply raised the long sword in his hand, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

"The master said, not a single person from the Great Qian will be spared."

Without the slightest hesitation, the assassin swung his knife toward Qin Minglan's neck.

The blade fell.

Qin Minglan closed her eyes in despair.

Just as the blade was about to touch her neck, a golden light descended from the sky and struck the long sword precisely.

clang!!!

A piercing metallic clang rang out, and the longsword in the gray-robed man's hand shattered instantly, scattering across the ground.

The gray-robed man's tiger's mouth was shattered, and blood dripped from his fingertips.

He suddenly looked up, his expression changing drastically.

In the sky, a huge golden figure was rapidly descending, its golden wings blotting out the sun, and its golden vertical pupils, like two blazing suns, looked down upon everything on the ground.

Immediately afterwards, Wang Long jumped off Xiao Qiu's back.

boom!

Wang Long landed in front of Qin Minglan, the ground beneath his feet cracking with several fine lines, yet not even the hem of his clothes fluttered.

He stood with his hands behind his back, protecting Qin Minglan behind him, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the assassins in front of him.

The gray-robed men's expressions changed drastically, and they subconsciously took several steps back.

The leader's pupils contracted sharply, and his voice trembled.

"Who...who are you?!"

Qin Minglan lay on the ground, covered in blood, her consciousness fading.

She mustered her last bit of strength to lift her head and saw a familiar figure blocking her way.

Her lips moved twice, as if she wanted to call out that name.

But it felt like something was blocking my throat, and I couldn't make a sound.

All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears, as if it were about to leap out of my chest.

It's him...it really is him!

"Old...old thing..."

Several assassins also appeared out of nowhere. Wang Long was startled and took several steps back.

Especially the gray-robed man at the head, whose right hand, which was gripping the broken knife, was still bleeding.

The wound on his hand was so deep that the bone was visible, and the pain made his whole face contort.

He raised his head and stared intently at Wang Long. Although he was still trying to keep his voice up, it was already somewhat weak.

"Who are you? I advise you to mind your own business! This is a feud between the Great Zhao and the Great Qian. You're an outsider, so you'd better know your place!"

Wang Long remained silent, glaring angrily at them!

Anyone who dares to harm Qin Minglan must die!

Just then, a golden figure slowly descended from the sky, its enormous wings stirring up a gust of wind.

Little Chirp landed steadily, its golden feathers gleaming with a cold metallic luster in the sunlight, its eyes like two burning golden flames, looking down at everything below.

Ye Niannu, Xu Wanyun, and Qin Jiaojiao jumped off the bird's back and landed behind Wang Long.

The assassins' expressions changed instantly.

They were martial artists, though the highest among them was only the eighth rank, but they still had a basic understanding of martial arts.

They couldn't fathom Wang Long's level of cultivation, nor did they know how powerful he was.

But they could understand the large golden bird in front of them.

A single breath of dragon's breath could reduce them to ashes.

"What...what kind of spirit beast is this?!"

The assassin's voice completely changed, and his legs began to tremble uncontrollably.

The gray-robed man in the lead was in no better shape; he swallowed hard, and his hand holding the broken knife trembled even more violently.

"Go! Retreat! Retreat now!"

Before the words were even finished, the group turned and ran, not even having time to use their magical weapons, and dashed down the mountain path.

Wang Long then raised his eyes.

He raised his hand, his fingertips together, and casually waved it.

Dozens of golden, scholarly longswords instantly materialized, each no longer than a finger joint, yet exuding a chillingly sharp aura.

"kill!"

Wang Long coldly uttered a single word.

The longsword, imbued with literary energy, instantly transformed into streaks of light, traversing dozens of feet in a flash, and precisely piercing the backs of the assassins.

puff!

Blood splattered.

They didn't even have time to struggle before their bodies froze on the spot.

Then one by one they fell down, collapsing into the mud, completely lifeless.