Chapter 649: What Dream Is So Real?
The Beili Emperor was filled with regret. He shouldn’t have allowed the Eighth Prince to leave the palace; even if he caused a fuss, he should never have been permitted to leave his sight.
"Your Majesty, anyone capable of using Inner Strength to knock down the Royal Hidden Guards is no ordinary person. It seems some great master is hiding in the Capital City." The leader of the Hidden Guards stood silently behind the Beili Emperor.
"A great master? How does their Inner Strength compare to yours?" the Beili Emperor asked.
"Just knocking someone unconscious with a blast of Inner Strength... I am incapable of such a feat." The Hidden Guards under his command were all first-rate experts. To knock one out with Inner Strength, one’s own had to be at least several times stronger than the opponent’s.
The Beili Emperor mused for a moment. "Could the person who took the Eighth Prince and the old Taoist who took Ye Qianning’s corpse be one and the same?"
"I will investigate personally."
"Good. You must bring the Eighth Prince back, no matter what."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The leader departed.
The Beili Emperor felt that everything about this was bizarre. The way Ye Qianning’s corpse was taken... it couldn’t have been secretly arranged by Dean Chen. After all, the dead deserve respect, and they would never desecrate a child’s body like that.
Judging by the state of the Zhan, Gu, and Qian families, their grief didn’t seem like an act. Xiang Minghou was away from the capital year-round and had offended his fair share of people in the martial world; it wasn’t surprising that he had many enemies.
But if the person who took the Eighth Prince and the one who took Ye Qianning were in league with each other, and the Eighth Prince didn’t return, he would hold Xiang Minghou accountable for it all!
Ye Qianning sat in the space, cursing the old man a thousand times over. ’Not only did he carry me away in front of everyone, but he also announced he was going to use my corpse to make incense?’
’Old Man Gu, Old Master Zhan, Madam Zhan, and Qian Fu are all nearing fifty. Can they withstand such a shock? Old Man Gu’s mind hasn’t been clear since my death.’
’It comes and goes. After this shock from the old Taoist, Old Man Gu’s health...’
Ye Qianning stared at the booklet for the better part of the day, trying to remember how she had entered the dream. It wasn’t until late at night that she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps and turned her head.
The old man staggered toward her, his eyes hazy with sleep.
"You’re finally here." Recognizing the newcomer, Ye Qianning’s figure shot forward like a phantom and she attacked the old man.
The old Taoist tried to dodge but failed, and Ye Qianning tackled him head-on. A moment later, a sharp pain shot through his face.
"Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Stop!" the old Taoist cried, shielding his face.
Ye Qianning showed no mercy, her fists landing one after another. Hearing him howl, she struck even harder...
"Ow, that kills... Not the face..." The old Taoist curled up on the ground, hugging his head and howling for mercy. "Little miss, spare me! Spare my life!"
Ye Qianning landed a few more punches, then straightened up and gave him several kicks before finally stopping.
"You’re killing me... Owww..." The old Taoist trembled.
"Get up," Ye Qianning said coldly, straightening her clothes.
The old Taoist remained curled up, hugging his head and letting out pained whimpers. "Little girl, you hit so hard... Are you trying to pull this old bag of bones apart?"
"Stop putting on an act."
"Who’s putting on an act? You’re the one who hit me, and you think you’re justified?"
"We don’t need to be reasonable in a dream." ’This is a dream, how can he feel pain? Even if your mind gets hazy for a second, shouldn’t it recover instantly?’
"What dream? What are you talking about, ’dream’?" Hearing this, the old Taoist immediately scrambled to his feet. "You beat me to a pulp, and you’re calling it a dream? Who do you think you’re fooling?"
"..."
Ye Qianning’s eyes widened in surprise. The old Taoist’s face was black and blue, the injuries far too realistic. "It’s not a dream?"
she muttered to herself, utterly bewildered.
"A dream? If this were a dream, would I be this battered and bruised?"
’A dream? Bullshit!’
’What kind of dream is this real?’