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

Wang Long met her hostile gaze, but remained calm, merely smiled faintly, shook his head slightly, and looked away.

Ye Niannu, standing beside him, naturally witnessed that scene as well.

She didn't bother to give Wang Qingyan a friendly look, just pouted and rolled her eyes before turning away.

Wang Qingyan's face darkened further when she saw Ye Niannu's expression.

Zhao Heng, standing beside him, clenched his fists, but managed to suppress his anger.

At this moment, an elderly man with white hair and beard walked up from behind them, patted Zhao Heng on the shoulder, and whispered something.

Zhao Heng took a deep breath and finally withdrew his gaze. He and Wang Qingyan walked towards the palace on the other side of the square, their pace quickening as if they were suppressing something.

Standing beside Wang Long and Ye Niannu, Ye Wushuang naturally sensed the tense atmosphere but did not ask any questions.

Immediately afterwards, several other figures appeared on the other side of the square, each with different robes and equally solid and powerful auras.

A burly man, as tall as an iron tower, was dressed in an earth-yellow outfit with mountain-shaped emblems embroidered on his cuffs.

Standing beside him was a tall woman in a dark green dress, with a calm demeanor and a long whip made of strung spirit stones hanging from her waist.

The disciples beside the two had a heavy mountain totem embroidered on their robes; they were none other than Shi Yue, the holy son of the Di De Sect, and Meng Qingluo, the holy daughter.

On the other side, a dark purple figure also emerged from the teleportation point.

The person had a pale, effeminate face, cold eyes, and was surrounded by a faint shadow. Their footsteps were so light they were almost silent.

Behind him followed a cold and beautiful woman dressed in a black gauze dress, with a silver hairpin in her hair and holding a closed umbrella-shaped spiritual weapon in her hand. The umbrella ribs gleamed with a cold light. It was Yin Jiuyou, the holy son of Kunyin Sect, and Liu Ruyan, the holy daughter.

Before long, another young couple dressed in silver and light blue robes walked side by side.

The man was tall and slender with delicate features, wearing a blue hairband and exuding an elegant air.

The woman had a beautiful face and wore a feather-shaped headdress. Her aura was ethereal and lively. She was none other than Ling Feng, the Holy Son of Tianlan Sect, and Yun Qingge, the Holy Daughter.

The holy sons and daughters of the four major sects of the Central Region Heaven and Earth were all present at this moment.

Several groups of people occupied different corners of the square. Although they maintained a polite and distant demeanor, an invisible aura slowly collided and intertwined in the air, and no one was willing to look away first.

Shi Yue's gaze swept across the square, finally landing on the group of contestants from the Eastern Region, but he didn't linger there, simply shifting his gaze away with a hint of indifference.

Meng Qingluo followed beside him without even turning her head, clearly showing no interest in these people from the Eastern Region.

Yin Jiuyou of the Kunyin Sect glanced at Ye Niannu a few more times. His cold eyes lingered on her face for a moment before moving away, as if he had seen something interesting but was too lazy to investigate further.

Liu Ruyan opened the Netherworld Poison Umbrella in her hand, gently turning the handle, lost in thought.

Ling Feng and Yun Qingge of the Tianlan Sect are the most peaceful couple among the four major sects.

When Ling Feng's gaze swept over Wang Long, he nodded slightly in greeting. Although it wasn't exactly warm, it also lacked any condescending arrogance.

Yun Qingge followed beside him and glanced in Wang Long's direction with a hint of curiosity in her eyes, but she also had no intention of going up to speak to him.

On the Eastern Region side, Zhou Yanzhi stood beside Wang Long and whispered.

"Those are the holy sons and daughters of the four major sects in the Central Region. You have already fought Zhao Heng and Wang Qingyan of the Qian Yuan Sect in the Spirit Realm. The two from the Di De Sect are known for their defense and trapping the enemy. The Kun Yin Sect's methods are rather insidious, and they are good at assassination and poison mist. The Tian Lan Sect is known for its speed and is good at guerrilla warfare."

Wang Long nodded slightly, his gaze lingering on each of the figures for a moment.

He noticed that although Zhao Heng of the Qian Yuan Sect stopped Wang Qingyan when she had an attack, his gaze was also filled with undisguised scrutiny and coldness.

Shi Yue and Meng Qingluo of the Di De Sect never looked directly at the Eastern Regions; their indifference was more impressive than their hostility.

When Wang Long looked over, Yin Jiuyou of the Kunyin Sect narrowed his eyes slightly and a very faint smile appeared on his lips, it was unclear whether it was a smile or something else.

Ye Niannu stood beside Wang Long, taking in all of this.

She didn't say anything, but gently touched the back of Wang Long's hand and whispered.

"It seems that our Eastern Region is indeed not well-liked by them."

Wang Long chuckled and said self-deprecatingly.

"That's normal. They've always been one-off events, so who cares? But this situation needs to end!"

He loves to beat up these arrogant so-called geniuses!

Climbing to the top by stepping on them, isn't that the most satisfying process?!

Ye Wushuang stood behind the two of them. When she heard Wang Long's words, she didn't reply, but the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

She also felt that with Wang Long present in the Eastern Region this time, the outcome would be different.

Just then, a fine and deep ripple suddenly appeared in the space above the square.

The ripples spread silently, yet carried an undeniable weight, as if an unseen hand was gently manipulating the rules of this world.

At the same moment, everyone's voices fell silent, and those gazes that had been either arrogant or indifferent all turned to the sky.

Wang Long also raised his head. His pupils suddenly contracted.

Space was torn open from the inside, the edges of the crack were as smooth as a mirror, not as if it were torn by brute force, but as if the world itself had made way for him.

A figure slowly walked out of the crack, his steps calm and leisurely.

The man was an old man with white hair and beard, a kind face, and wearing a faded blue robe. He looked like a retired elder from some small sect, completely unremarkable.

But the moment he stepped out of the spatial rift, the entire platform fell silent.

That silence wasn't a result of artificial restraint, but rather a moment when the heavens and earth themselves silenced all superfluous sounds; the wind stopped, and the clouds seemed to freeze for a moment.

Even the ground beneath their feet, forged from top-grade spirit stones, dimmed slightly for a moment.

All eyes were fixed on the old man, their expressions varied.

Wang Long felt his breathing involuntarily soften.

He had witnessed the aura of the Heavenly Sovereign and had also withstood the pressure of the half-step Emperor Realm Puppet Yuan, but the old man before him gave him a completely different feeling.

It was an indescribable sense of oppression he had never experienced before.

It wasn't aggressive; in fact, it had a gentle quality that made people want to get close to it. Yet, it made Wang Long clearly realize that if the other party wanted, a single thought could obliterate him.

Your Majesty!

This is a true emperor!