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

Wang Long held Qin Minglan in his arms, and seeing her like this, he felt extremely sorry for her.

Anger was burning within me.

He could clearly feel Qin Minglan's body trembling.

It's not fear.

It's the effect of the medicine.

An unusual heat surged from Qin Minglan's body, burning her to the point of being scalding hot, and causing her to breathe rapidly and erratically.

Her cheeks were flushed, her almond-shaped eyes were misty, and her consciousness was beginning to fade.

"Old man... hurry up and go..."

Qin Minglan's voice was broken and intermittent, trembling with suppressed emotion.

"I... can't hold on much longer... Zhao Lingyun is a fourth-rank official, you're no match for him..."

Wang Long hugged her tightly, pressing the back of her head with one hand and letting her lean on his shoulder.

"Don't be afraid, young lady, this old servant is here."

His voice was calm, but in his cloudy old eyes, the killing intent was so intense it was almost tangible.

Even in her condition, Qin Minglan is still worried about Wang Long.

Wang Long felt genuinely sorry for this girl.

Qin Minglan was overjoyed to see Wang Long come to her rescue.

She didn't want to be a burden to Wang Long.

Zhao Lingyun, accompanied by five servants, slowly approached.

Although he had been stabbed in the abdomen by Qin Minglan, he had already taken some medicine and the wound had almost completely healed.

However, large patches of blood remained on his clothes, making him look quite disheveled.

Zhao Lingyun's gaze fell on Wang Long, and after looking him up and down, he sneered.

"Oh, who do we have here? It's that old horse-raising geezer from the Marquis of Zhenbei's mansion."

He crossed his arms and wore a mocking smile.

"What, you old codger, trying to be a hero and save the damsel in distress?"

"You think you can defeat mere third-rank trash?"

Wang Long ignored him, looked down at Qin Minglan in his arms, and gently comforted her.

"Young Miss, leave everything to this old servant. I will make those who harmed you pay the price!"

Zhao Lingyun narrowed his eyes slightly.

Five black-clad servants stood in a row behind him, holding short knives and with cold expressions.

As long as Zhao Lingyun gives the order, they will rush forward without hesitation to surround and kill Wang Long!

"How dare a mere third-rank old codger spout such nonsense in front of me?"

Zhao Lingyun chuckled and looked Wang Long up and down.

"Does he really think that just because he defeated that piece of trash Tie Xiong, he can kill a fourth-rank official from a third-rank position?"

He shook his head, his tone full of disdain.

"Today, I'll show you what a true fourth-rank official is!"

As soon as he finished speaking, spiritual energy surged around Zhao Lingyun.

A powerful aura erupted from him, causing the ground to scatter and fly with debris.

True Qi is released externally.

Condensing Qi into a powerful force.

The signature ability of a fourth-rank martial artist!

A layer of light blue aura enveloped Zhao Lingyun, like armor, protecting him completely.

Wang Long's pupils contracted slightly.

This is the true fourth rank.

Tie Xiong's fake fourth-rank cultivation, achieved through drug use, is on a completely different level from the person in front of him.

Qin Minglan leaned against the tree trunk, her almond-shaped eyes filled with worry.

"Old man, don't... snoring... at him..."

Her voice was weak, and the lingering passion within her was still raging, with waves of heat rising up, making her feel weak all over.

But she bit her tongue hard, using the pain to keep herself awake.

She cannot faint.

Qin Minglan wanted to see Wang Long leave safely with her own eyes.

If Wang Long were to die trying to save me...

She had made up her mind: she would commit suicide to accompany Wang Long in death!

Wang Long didn't turn around, but bent down and picked up the Qing Shuang sword that Qin Minglan had dropped on the ground.

The sword gleamed coldly, reflecting off his aged face.

"Young lady, may I borrow your sword?"

He gripped the hilt of his sword and turned to face Zhao Lingyun.

A chilling killing intent was unleashed without any attempt at concealment.

Facing a fourth-rank martial artist, he showed no intention of retreating!

This action thoroughly enraged Zhao Lingyun.

"You old bastard, you're asking for it!"

Zhao Lingyun's face darkened, and he raised his hand and waved it.

"Go! Cripple him for me!"

The five black-clad servants responded in unison, and with a flash, they pounced on Wang Long!

Five short swords slashed down simultaneously from five different directions!

The flashing blades blocked all of Wang Long's escape routes.

Wang Long gripped the Azure Frost Sword tightly, his spiritual energy surging wildly within him, pushing his Chaos Creation Saint Body to its limit.

The Great Void Breaking Illusion Sword Technique - First Form!

Dispel illusions!

The Azure Frost Sword was drawn, and a sharp sword aura shot out from the tip of the sword!

The two black-clad servants at the front were unable to dodge in time and were pierced through the chest by the sword energy. Blood splattered, they screamed, flew backward, and crashed heavily to the ground, dying on the spot.

The remaining three black-clad servants were shocked and instinctively tried to back away.

Wang Long did not give them a chance.

The second sword!

The third sword!

The fourth sword!

Three sword energies struck in quick succession, each one faster and more ruthless than the last!

Before the three black-clad servants could react, their throats, hearts, and heads were pierced by sword energy, blood gushing out as their bodies collapsed to the ground.

Wang Long knew this was a fight to the death, and he couldn't hold back in the slightest!

From the start to the end, it took no more than three breaths.

Qin Minglan stared wide-eyed at the five corpses lying on the ground, her almond-shaped eyes filled with disbelief.

That old man...

When did you become so strong?

Zhao Lingyun's smile froze on her face, and her brows furrowed slightly.

"It seems I underestimated you."

He looked at Wang Long, a serious glint in his eyes.

"An old man in the mid-stage of the third rank was able to instantly kill five second-rank martial artists."

"No wonder Tie Xiong was defeated by you."

Zhao Lingyun pulled a folding fan from his waist and unfolded it with a "whoosh".

The folding fan is entirely black, with its ribs made of black iron and its surface woven with gold and silver threads, on which a fierce tiger is painted, lifelike.

A faint, cold light gleamed from the edge of the fan.

Those were steel needles as thin as cow hair.

This is a mid-grade Xuan-level spiritual artifact, named the Xuan Iron Fan.

Zhao Lingyun fiddled with the folding fan, a smile playing on his lips.

"Old man, you think you can challenge me just because you killed a few pieces of trash?"

With a flick of his wrist, he slammed the folding fan shut and pointed at Wang Long.

"Let me show you what a fourth-rank official really is."

Before he finished speaking, Zhao Lingyun moved.

His speed was astonishing, leaving an afterimage in his original position, and he appeared in front of Wang Long like a ghost!

The folding fan opened, its surface like a knife, and slashed towards Wang Long's neck!

Wang Long's pupils contracted sharply, and his body instinctively moved to block with his sword.

clang!

A deafening clang of metal clashing echoed through the alley, sending sparks flying.

Wang Long was thrown backward by the shock and crashed heavily into a tree trunk, a metallic taste filling his mouth.

The power of an early fourth-grade cultivator is indeed incomparable to that of a third-grade cultivator.

Wang Long felt as if his arm was about to break; his tiger's mouth was shattered, and blood dripped down the hilt of his sword.

Zhao Lingyun gave him no chance to catch his breath.

With a flash, he reappeared in front of Wang Long, sweeping his folding fan horizontally, aiming straight for his chest!

Wang Long gritted his teeth and dodged to the side.

The folding fan brushed past his clothes, and the steel needles on the fan ribs tore his sleeve, leaving a deep bloody mark on his arm.

Blood seeped out, staining the tattered clothes red.

Wang Long grunted and staggered back several steps.

Zhao Lingyun closed his fan and stood up, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that all you've got?"

He shook his head, his tone nonchalant.

"I thought you were something special, but you're just a piece of trash."