Jun Moxie's thinking was straightforward: he absolutely did not want to encounter situations where he couldn't personally intervene, forcing him into marathon debates and pointless haggling. You won't obey? Very well, send an assassin over to slay that person with one sword stroke, and then we'll talk to the replacement!
Where was there time for all that international protocol and wasting breath? My Lord's time was exceedingly precious!
While Hai Chenfeng and Song Shang both held greater influence than Baili Luoyun, Hai Chenfeng was a man of deep loyalty and righteousness! His character was akin to that of a "Chivalrous Hero." He could not be entrusted with this task. As for Song Shang, his devotion to wine was an even greater weakness.
Therefore, for this pivotal, core position, neither man was suitable!
This was why Jun Moxie valued Baili Luoyun so highly!
Jun Moxie’s figure strode past the entrance of the tent. Inside, Jun Wuyi, Ying Bokong, Dongfang Sanjian, Duanmu Chaofan, and Sikong Anye, who were currently discussing matters, couldn't help but startle. They simultaneously felt a chilling sharpness suffusing the heavens and earth, accompanied by an aura of bone-deep coldness and awe.
It was as if an unparalleled, peerless sword that had slain countless foes had flashed past the front of the tent! Though the duration was fleeting, it was enough to provoke astonishment in their hearts and a tremor in their very souls!
How could such a fiercely transcendent figure suddenly appear within the military camp?
The seven men turned their heads almost simultaneously, just in time to see Jun Moxie’s figure, clad in flowing white, flash past the tent door. Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, all seven men froze instantly!
Jun Moxie!
It was actually Jun Moxie!
How could this be?
Not one of the seven men inside that tent was anything less than a top-tier master, or at the very least, a reigning power in their own right. Their eyesight and perceptive senses were far beyond the reach of ordinary men!
An ordinary person encountering such a situation would, at best, be momentarily surprised. But these seven immediately grasped the essential truth!
This chilling sensation—how many lives must one have taken to cultivate such a ruthless, dominating aura?
What experiences must one have undergone to possess such a vast, cloud-like sense of majesty? And how many life-and-death trials were needed to achieve that transcendent calm existing within the soul?
Jun Wuyi, as the Blood-Robed General, had once commanded armies of a hundred thousand. In those days when he held supreme authority, wherever his spear pointed, corpses littered a thousand miles, and rivers ran red with blood! Yet, he knew with certainty that he did not possess the bearing Jun Moxie had momentarily displayed!
Jun Wuyi was undeniably a man of deep sentiment.
If only for this single trait—this "sentimentality"—he would never in his life reach the heights Jun Moxie now occupied!
Ying Bokong roamed the world, killing as easily as he breathed. His profound mastery reached the apex, securing him the title of Supreme Sovereign, yet even he lacked the untouchable, transcendent aura that Jun Moxie now exuded!
As for Dongfang Sanjian, having originated as an assassin, it was no exaggeration to say his hands were steeped in gore, killing without a second thought. But the murderous intent he had cultivated himself was still far less sharp and overwhelming than the latent, sky-shattering edge Jun Moxie now held barely concealed!
As for Duanmu Chaofan and Sikong Anye, they were already staring wide-eyed. In fact, every single person in the tent was staring wide-eyed.
None of them could have imagined that the central figure of the hilarious anecdote from last night—the subject of so much laughter—would deliver such a profound shock to them all today!
The impact was so immense, so utterly earth-shattering!
“Jun Wuyi, damn your ancestors, did I just see that right?” Dongfang Wenjian stammered incoherently, “The one who just passed—was that your nephew? My cousin’s son? That brat Jun Moxie?”
At his question, the gazes of everyone present fixed intensely upon Jun Wuyi.
Damn it, how much is your Jun family hiding? How has this youth managed to maintain the facade of a pampered wastrel for over a decade?
Jun Wuyi’s eyeballs nearly shot out of their sockets. He looked like someone waking from a dream: “How should I know?’ That person just now, it must have been Moxie!”
Dongfang Wendao exploded in anger: “What ‘must have been’? You held him since he was born and raised him! If you don’t know, who does? Give me a definitive answer!”
If you don’t know, who does? The others looked at Jun Wuyi with strangely assessing eyes. Even at this point, the scoundrel was still trying to conceal things!
Jun Wuyi was speechless, utterly speechless. I truly don’t know what happened, I really don’t!
Jun Moxie was equally unaware that his simple passing by the tent had caused such massive shock to everyone, and such considerable consternation for his Third Uncle.
He had merely begun to gather the murderous aura within his heart—a long-lost sensation. As he proceeded step by step, the killing intent deep in his core gradually awakened, the bloodlust in his bones slowly coalesced, and the arrogance in his soul gradually radiated outwards.
But he had already calculated the distance between his own tent and Baili Luoyun’s. From the very first step he took, to the final stride stopping before Baili Luoyun’s tent, he intended to impart an overwhelming, irresistible sense of imperial dominion upon the members of the Baili family!
He intended to subdue Baili Luoyun in one decisive move! And, moreover, fulfill a deep desire of Baili Luoyun’s.
Though Baili Luoyun hadn't voiced it, Jun Moxie understood!!!!!!!
In a plain tent ahead, Guan Qinghan and Dugu Xiaoyi, who had been stirring up trouble half the night, were washing up. Though they had only managed a brief rest, Guan Qinghan had recovered significantly. After all, the Young Master had helped condition her previously, and coupled with a night’s respite, she felt much better—at least enough to walk.
Dugu Xiaoyi sighed repeatedly, looking even less energetic than Guan Qinghan.
The little girl, heavy-hearted, let her eyelids droop, occasionally gesturing subtly between her own front and rear with her hands. The more she compared, the more a sense of inferiority washed over her.
Why? Why are Sister Qinghan’s so big? Dugu Xiaoyi’s self-confidence plummeted. She drooped her head sadly: “Sister Qinghan, your figure is amazing. Everything that should be big is big. How did you do it?”
Guan Qinghan’s delicate face flushed: “What do you mean, ‘how did I do it’? You’re still young; in a couple more years, yours will be big too. Maybe even bigger than Sister’s.”
Dugu Xiaoyi cradled her face, her thoughts drifting miles