With the Gu bug extracted from his body, the Witch King's final breath completely faded away.
His face, covered in eerie witch runes, froze in an expression of incomprehensible horror from his dying moments.
Li Xingyun's mind was still stuck in the blank state from when Ian delivered that kick.
He stared blankly at the lifeless Witch King, then looked at the lively white Gu bug floating in midair.
Then, he stiffly turned his head to look at Chi Meng beside him, who was safe and sound, albeit a little weak.
The crisis seemed to have truly been resolved.
He could no longer suppress the emotions bursting from deep within his chest.
Li Xingyun dashed forward, recklessly pulling the newly freed Chi Meng into his arms.
His embrace was so tight, as if he feared she would disappear in the next second.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, I arrived too late."
He buried his face in the young girl's neck, his voice incredibly hoarse from extreme lingering fear and guilt.
Startled by the sudden embrace, Chi Meng's body stiffened, a hint of bewilderment still lingering in her bright, expressive eyes.
But when that familiar warmth and scent enveloped her, and when those apologies filled with suppressed pain reached her ears, her nerves, which had been tense for days, finally relaxed.
"Little Brother, waah—"
A loud wail broke out, carrying endless grievance and fear.
"I thought I would never see you again, Little Brother."
Chi Meng raised her small fists and pounded Li Xingyun's back over and over, turning all her fear and anxiety into the tears she shed at this moment.
In a corner of the hall, Zhang Zifan gently wrapped his arm around Lu Linxuan's shoulders.
The two looked at the embracing figures, both revealing relieved smiles.
On the other side, this scene of youthful romance fell into the eyes of a group of "old antiques."
Beneath Yuan Tiangang's hideous mask, no emotion could be discerned.
A trace of complexity flashed across Li Shimin's face, as if he recalled some distant memories, but it was quickly masked by his imperial majesty.
"Oh my, young people sure are passionate."
"Take a look, Your Majesty. This is much livelier than the palace back in the day."
Cheng Yaojin rested his giant axe on his shoulder and grinned widely, his booming laughter and teasing echoing through the hall.
Beside him, Fang Xuanling immediately shot him a sharp glare.
Old Cheng shrank his neck and resentfully shut his mouth.
Just as the atmosphere eased slightly, a faint commotion suddenly arose outside the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect.
Immediately after, two figures sprinted over, one after the other.
The leading figure had a slender and graceful figure, yet possessed a commanding and heroic aura. With phoenix-like eyebrows slanting toward her temples, she exuded an imposing presence without anger.
The woman following behind her wore a blue dress and had a cold, breathtakingly beautiful face. They were none other than the Empress and Ji Ruxue.
Upon learning in the Phantom Melody Pavilion that Li Xingyun was trapped in Miaojiang, Ji Ruxue had been burning with anxiety and immediately begged the Empress to rush to his rescue.
At this moment, she spotted that familiar figure in the crowd at a single glance.
Seeing that he was safe and sound, the heavy boulder hanging in Ji Ruxue's heart finally dropped.
But when her gaze landed on the sight of him tightly embracing another girl, her rushing footsteps abruptly halted.
Perhaps, she had come at a bad time.
The Empress had originally arrived with fierce momentum, prepared to slaughter her way through and rescue Li Xingyun.
But the moment she stepped into the hall, she was completely stunned by the scene before her.
Weren't these people the divine troops that had just descended from the heavens?
She couldn't figure it out. Just whose divine troops were these soldiers clad in Mingguang Armor, possessing auras as deep as the abyss, with each one giving her a massive sense of oppression?
And who was that man wearing a black dragon robe, who, despite merely standing there quietly, made her feel a trace of awe and submission deep within her bloodline?
Then there were those eccentric individuals with bizarre yet boundlessly powerful auras.
And finally, the people kneeling on the ground like lambs waiting to be slaughtered—the Prince of Jin, Li Siyuan, the Queen of Mobei Shuliduo, and the others.
For a moment, she didn't even know where she was.
"You all..."
The Empress's voice carried a hint of trembling that she herself hadn't noticed.
She looked at Li Xingyun and slowly explained the reason for her late arrival.
"On the way to Miaojiang, Xue'er and I noticed several factions lying in ambush in the shadows."
The Tongwen Manor, the Khitan of Mobei, and the Zoroastrian Cult of the Western Regions.
These people had set up the entire perimeter of Miaojiang into a massive pocket formation.
They had originally intended to find a chance to hide and wait for the right moment.
But unexpectedly, these people descended from the sky without any warning.
As she spoke, the Empress cast her gaze toward the soldiers in front of her.
"Descended from the sky?"
Zhang Zifan subconsciously asked.
A trace of shock that had yet to fade flashed across the Empress's face.
"Yes."
"Literally descended from the sky."
She described the scene at the time with lingering fear.
The appearance of that army came with no warning whatsoever, as if they had torn through space and directly manifested on the battlefield.
What followed was a completely one-sided crushing defeat.
"Those ambushing troops couldn't even withstand a single charge before being turned into minced meat."
The Empress's gaze swept over the rebel leaders who were suppressed and immobilized by the Xuanjia Army, eventually landing on a staggering figure who had also been captured.
Seeing that face, the Empress's body jolted violently.
"Brother?"
This person was none other than the Prince of Qi, Li Maozhen. Hearing the Empress's voice, he struggled to lift his head.
Beside him, Li Siyuan, who was forced to his knees and immobilized by the murderous aura of the Xuanjia Army, looked ashen.
His lips trembled, and with hollow eyes, he just kept muttering to himself.
"It's over."
"Everything is over."
Beside him, the Queen of Mobei Shuliduo felt her entire body turn ice-cold.
What she saw was not just her own defeat and death.
But the impending doomsday of the entire Mobei.
She unwillingly raised her head, attempting to struggle with her last bit of strength, but a Xuanjia Army soldier smashed the hilt of his blade into the back of her neck.
Shuliduo, who was already struggling to hold on, instantly fainted.
On the other side, Yuan Tiangang's gaze finally shifted slowly away from Li Shimin.
He looked past the crowd, his eyes eventually landing on Ian, who had appeared somewhat lazy from beginning to end.
Everything that had happened today was far too bizarre.
And the source of it all seemed to point to this unfathomable young man.
Li Shimin pacified Cheng Yaojin and the others, then looked toward Yuan Tiangang.
With the monarch and his subject reuniting after three hundred years, there were too many words and too many matters that needed to be discussed properly.
He raised his hand.
The one hundred thousand Xuanjia soldiers behind him understood the gesture and retreated, redeploying their defenses outside the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect.
Cheng Yaojin and the others also took the captives and temporarily exited the hall.
The massive hall instantly emptied out.
Only the two of them remained, along with those figures standing at the center of this chaotic storm.
Li Shimin looked at the solitary minister before him, who had held the line for the Great Tang for three hundred years.
He looked at the hideous and terrifying mask on his face, a mask that had also isolated him from the mortal world for three centuries.
And through the mask, he saw the face beneath it—a face even more hideous than the mask itself.
In the eyes of this eternal emperor, incredibly complex emotions were revealed.
He slowly spoke, "Minister Yuan."
"For three hundred years."
"You... have worked hard."