Bad news always spreads quickly.

In just one night, all of Meng City knew what had happened the previous evening. They knew that countless ghost fires had suddenly appeared in the royal palace last night, shrouding the entire palace; they knew those ghost fires chased people around chaotically, frightening two people to death; they knew the old king had witnessed those ghost fires with his own eyes and immediately collapsed unconscious.

Rumors wandered through the city at wind-like speed. Those who had prepared early came to teahouses and taverns, adding fuel to the fire with these news reports, adding many malicious or imagined descriptions, gradually distorting them into the version certain people wanted: the old king had murdered his own sons, committed countless evil deeds, heaven responded, sending down punishment. Those ghost fires were all vengeful spirits buried underground in the royal palace and those who died at the old king’s hands, drilling up from below to claim the old king’s life. Last night those ghost fires covered the sky and earth, shrouding the entire royal palace. One could imagine how many lives the old king had killed during his years of rule, how cruel and inhumane he was…

The versions continued spreading, gradually becoming that the old king had killed his father, mother, sons, daughters, and all relatives, murdered many meritorious officials. Even those who died in battle were secretly assassinated by the old king for fear they would overshadow him. He had killed too many people, acted too ruthlessly. Heaven sent down punishment, and those vengeful spirits buried underground drilled up to claim the old king’s life. Last night ghost fires shrouded the entire city. One could imagine how many lives the old king had actually killed…

Slowly spreading further, the version became that the old king had slaughtered countless cities. Last night’s ghost fires shrouded all of Meng Kingdom, and all of Meng Kingdom’s subjects were immersed in terror, because it foretold that the old king had become mad and confused, provoking heaven’s wrath, and would bring even greater disasters to all of Meng Kingdom. Otherwise, why would there be torrential rains in western Meng? Those torrential rains would surely cause floods – that was heaven’s punishment! Heaven’s punishment!

The most terrifying yet simplest thing in this world was spreading rumors. Things without any source or basis – with just a flip of upper and lower lips, those speaking acted as if they had witnessed everything personally, those listening saw such convincing manner and believed it to be true, then turned around to add their own assumptions and speculations when telling others. The final evolved version was already a hundred thousand li from the truth, and no one needed to take responsibility anyway.

So the final version was that all of Dahuang was shrouded in ghost fires, and Meng Kingdom would suffer catastrophic disaster because of the old king.

The poison of human words, the evil of human nature, the fickleness of human hearts, the thinness of human feeling – the things in this world that could least withstand testing.

Jing Hengbo naturally also heard this rapidly spreading rumor.

“What ghost fires? That’s white phosphorus,” Jing Hengbo snorted with laughter. “White phosphorus can spontaneously combust and is particularly light – it follows people around, naturally looking eerie. As for how to get so much white phosphorus…” She patted her head. “I think urine can extract it… Really don’t know how this could fool so many people…”

However, this common knowledge that almost everyone knew in modern times truly wasn’t known by many in ancient times. Ancient people revered ghosts and spirits. All phenomena that couldn’t be explained by personal knowledge appeared mysterious and shocking to them, so rulers had always been good at exploiting this psychology, playing with supernatural and mystical tricks of destiny.

However, looking at Gong Yin and the others’ expressions, they didn’t seem surprised. It appeared that while others didn’t know, these learned people still understood the easily punctured tricks within.

“Isn’t this just playing the same old game of heavenly will, destiny, gods and ghosts? First create public opinion to place the Great King under criticism, shake the sanctity and stability of his royal authority, then build momentum to push yourself onto the divine altar, becoming the new chosen of heaven and what the people’s hearts desire. The next step should be him taking the stage to play the divine medium himself, right?” Jing Hengbo tapped her fingers on the table and laughed. “Then let’s treat him with his own medicine!”

…

Rumors started from the palace, swept through the populace, and would inevitably sweep back to the court.

Three days later, when a censor first spoke up at Prince Ping’s instigation, exposing the “royal palace ghost fires” matter, Prince Ping’s faction immediately launched attacks en masse, and the atmosphere instantly became uncontrollable. These Prince Ping supporters brought up old precedents from previous years, claiming that current national affairs were declining, the southwest had disasters, people’s hearts were unsettled, the royal palace had ghost fires – all these various signs were because the Great King had lost virtue and attracted heaven’s punishment. As a ruler, he should deeply blame himself and comfort the people’s hearts. He should follow the example of previous sage kings and issue an edict of self-blame while sacrificing to heaven.

When this proposal was raised, the court first fell silent. For subjects to demand the emperor blame himself was inherently an enormous offense. But after the silence, rows of officials came forward to plead and express agreement, filling the court with kneeling figures. Prince Ping’s camp deployed in full force at this moment, citing all examples of imperial self-blame in Meng Kingdom and even Dahuang’s history, using facts and current “public opinion” to urge the old king to agree to their demands.

The Great King of Meng Kingdom sat limply on his throne. In just a few days, he seemed to have aged much more. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle in the wind, ready to extinguish at any moment. Looking at the sea of black heads below, a trace of sorrow flashed through his eyes.

After long silence, the anxious crowd finally heard the Great King’s decree: Following the precedent of Meng Kingdom’s King Yonglie, they would sacrifice to heaven at the altar. At that time, the Great King’s edict of self-blame would be read to heaven and burned as an offering, seeking heaven’s forgiveness and grace for the people.

Once the decree was issued, all ministers praised it, bowing their heads and speaking words of praise, unwilling to see the desolation in the old king’s eyes.

Striking while the iron was hot, the ministers immediately suggested finding the Director of the Imperial Observatory to choose an auspicious day for the sacrifice. The Director hurried over, calculated for a long time, and proposed three days hence as an auspicious day when all things were favorable, especially suitable for sacrifices – it was the unchangeable best day.

The old king looked utterly disheartened and immediately agreed, saying a few words perfunctorily before dismissing court. Everyone shouted their respect and saw him off. Occasionally glancing at the old king’s retreating figure, they increasingly felt that silhouette walking alone, hunched and desolate.

Prince Ping hadn’t said a word in court today, maintaining an air of detachment. Now he rose from the ground, his eyes briefly meeting the Director’s before parting, and finally a smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Everything was ready – they only lacked the east wind!

…

Jing Hengbo also heard about what happened in court at this time. After cursing Prince Ping for a while, she sighed for the Great King of Meng Kingdom. Dahuang’s people were fierce, and she had traveled through all six kingdoms and eight tribes. Most royal families were quite strong, so it was truly rare to see someone reduced to the Great King of Meng Kingdom’s state.

The so-called sacrifice to heaven three days later would surely be the critical moment for Prince Ping’s move. But how did he plan to act? Send troops? If he sent troops, Jing Hengbo felt she could at most keep the old king and his youngest son alive. To truly reclaim the throne from Prince Ping, who controlled nearly all of Meng City’s military power, the old king couldn’t do it, and she, an outsider, certainly couldn’t do it either.

Listening to Jing Hengbo’s murmuring, Gong Yin casually said, “People’s actions often follow patterns. They adopt methods they’re accustomed to.”

Gong Yin spoke little, but always spoke incisively. As the master of Dahuang for many years, his grasp of political situations and human hearts was something Jing Hengbo knew he would never waste words on. Thinking quietly now, she immediately understood.

Prince Ping wouldn’t rebel.

A person’s style of doing things wouldn’t change. Having played the virtuous king for many years, accustomed to acting subtly and covertly in the shadows, someone like Prince Ping would prefer exploiting human psychology.

The Ji family was currently afraid to act rashly because their daughter had fallen into the Meng family’s hands. Prince Ping had been stripped of command over the Yao Mountain Army. Although his control remained, it wasn’t as easy to deploy them freely as before. Moreover, since the old king’s sons were basically all gone, Prince Ping could be considered the only prince who could inherit the throne. The court ministers’ full support of Prince Ping wasn’t necessarily all due to being bought off – more because they had no choice and Prince Ping had a virtuous reputation. So unless absolutely necessary, Prince Ping probably wouldn’t want to use military force to advance on the royal palace, which would destroy his rightful position and virtuous reputation, inviting opposition from loyal old ministers – the gains wouldn’t be worth the losses.

So it would be like the ghost fire incident – using public opinion, using destiny, using heaven’s will, using supernatural yet more convincing reasons for the common people to eliminate the old king and youngest brother, remove all variable factors, and ascend the throne early.

“Playing this trick, huh?” Jing Hengbo laughed happily. “This queen is best at this!”

But why set it for three days later? Jing Hengbo felt this date was definitely not chosen randomly.

Gong Yin glanced at the sky outside and said, “There should be torrential rain three days later.”

Jing Hengbo looked up at the blue sky and white clouds outside, staring at him in astonishment – no way, right? Apart from the Imperial Observatory, which could calculate weather and star patterns through various methods, while there were people who could read weather elsewhere, they generally could only predict half a day ahead at most. Who could determine three days in advance that it would rain three days later? This wasn’t a weather forecast.

Looking at this sky, this sun, she felt it wouldn’t rain for half a month.

She stared at Gong Yin and suddenly noticed he didn’t look well, with what seemed like dark circles under his eyes. But Gong Yin seemed to suddenly feel he had talked too much and stood up, saying, “I’ll go check if Yong Xue’s porridge is ready for you.”

Jing Hengbo stared at his retreating figure. Hey, this guy seemed to be avoiding something?

She touched her belly. At over four months, her belly hadn’t swollen yet. After pregnancy, there weren’t many changes, only her appetite had become lighter, preferring porridge. Yong Xue and Yelu Qi therefore often competed like a game, varying the types of porridge they made for her. Hopefully this small change wouldn’t be discovered by him.

She went out to bask in the sun for calcium, thinking about the torrential rain three days later while facing the sun. Looking up at the nearby palace walls, she had now moved from the inn to the International Pavilion near the royal city. This was a suggestion the old king made to compensate the “injured Ji Kingdom princess,” and naturally no one opposed it. This location was very close to the royal city – she could see Prince Ping’s mansion’s flying eaves and the royal palace’s highest tower.

After a while, she returned to find an extra bowl of porridge on the table. Its appearance seemed different from the porridge Yong Xue usually made. Gong Yin sat beside the porridge, staring at her. Jing Hengbo was still pondering the events three days later and casually took a sip, commenting off-handedly, “Too sweet.”

She found it strange – Yong Xue was skilled at cooking and knew her tastes. How could she make such a mistake?

Taking another sip, she tasted something odd and exclaimed “Ah!” and said, “There are actually mushrooms!”

After pregnancy, she didn’t much like eating mushrooms, finding them strange-tasting. She instinctively wanted to spit it out but suddenly stopped.

The atmosphere seemed somewhat wrong…

Quietly lifting her eyes, she saw Gong Yin had already turned away, only showing his profile with no expression.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes rolled around and suddenly saw Yong Xue passing under the window, moving softly and making a gesture to her.

Following her gaze, Jing Hengbo saw the small stove in the corridor. Yong Xue liked slow-cooking porridge and often used this red clay stove. She was skilled at cooking, paying attention not only to the porridge but also to utensils and charcoal. For example, the charcoal was a special slow-burning silver charcoal that didn’t easily extinguish and could slow-cook for long periods – most suitable for cooking porridge.

The only bad thing about this silver charcoal was that it produced a lot of ash, and particularly fine ash. Staying by the stove too long, it easily stuck to skin and couldn’t be wiped clean easily – you needed soap to wash it off.

Jing Hengbo’s gaze returned to Gong Yin, and then she saw a faint trace of ash on his neck.

Jing Hengbo’s first action was to swallow the mushrooms with a gulp and loudly praise, “There are actually mushrooms! I love them most!”

Lowering her head to take another spoonful of porridge, she tasted it for a while and said happily, “This girl Yong Xue, the rock sugar isn’t evenly distributed. Only that first spoonful was sweet – now it’s just right, better than the past few days, fragrant and rich!”

While speaking, she pretended to call outside, “Yong Xue, the porridge is well-cooked. What should I reward you with?”

Outside, Yong Xue smiled and said, “I prepared last night, carefully washing all ingredients three times, following the recipe and cooking all night. I got up several times during the night to check. Just for this, Your Majesty should reward me with something good.”

Jing Hengbo smiled at her. Yong Xue was never one to boast or talk much. What this comment referred to, she understood very clearly. In a very good mood now, she generously said, “The latest items from Beauty Hall – you can take whatever you like. If you want, I’ll let you play with Emperor Song’s Beauty Hall too.”

Yong Xue smiled in agreement and walked away from under the window, thoughtfully closing the window for her. Jing Hengbo lowered her head to eat porridge, trying hard to slurp it loudly as if it were very fragrant, while also struggling to clear her throat – it really was too sweet, so sweet it was cloying. She was afraid that after finishing this bowl of porridge, she wouldn’t be able to speak.

After just a few bites, a hand covered over, blocking the bowl’s mouth. Gong Yin’s voice was clear and light: “Don’t eat anymore.”

Jing Hengbo lifted her face, still with a few grains of rice stuck to it, looking like she had been eating very attentively. But she truly didn’t dare open her mouth, afraid that speaking with a hoarse voice would give her away.

However, it seemed she was already exposed, because Gong Yin looked at her with complex eyes – faintly helpless, faintly joyful, faintly relieved, and with some faint anger, though that anger clearly wasn’t directed at her.

He reached out to wipe away those few sticky rice grains on her face, then took her bowl. Jing Hengbo watched incomprehensively as he lifted the bowl, watched him take a sip, watched him frown, watched him sigh.

It took Jing Hengbo a long while to finally react – he was eating her leftovers?

He was eating her leftovers?

This felt more shocking than if Dahuang had suddenly been unified by the cloaked people.

Gong Yin’s mysophobia, his self-control, was ten thousand times stronger than her mysophobia. Forget eating someone’s leftovers – under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even stand downwind, much less casually approach anyone.

She still clearly remembered when they were trapped together in the mountain forest, how he disdained things she had touched.

Yet now she saw him eating so naturally. Her heart felt like countless light bubbles were flying out, each bubble called joy, each bubble sweeter than this porridge. Her whole being seemed to be carried aloft by these bubbles, floating into soft cloud layers.

It wasn’t being flattered, but being moved by his naturalness at this moment. She knew that at this moment he definitely had no conscious thoughts. She knew such naturalness was only for her. She knew such naturalness represented that deep in his heart, he regarded her as one with himself.

He was so mysophobic, detesting kitchens above all else, yet was willing to endure smoke and fire for her, to taste what she had tasted.

No matter how much outward distance and rejection, it was all covered by the heart’s natural actions.

Gong Yin only took one sip before sighing and setting down the bowl, murmuring, “What talent!”

Jing Hengbo burst out laughing with a “poof.”

Hearing such words from his mouth was really… cute.

So this porridge-making wasn’t a whimsical display of attentiveness, but unwilling jealousy.

Wanting to outdo Yelu Qi in cooking too? Jing Hengbo felt he should just accept his fate.

Gong Yin was still staring at his porridge in a daze, seemingly seriously considering how to improve his cooking skills and make up for his only shortcoming. Watching him, Jing Hengbo only felt her mood soften, those bubbles all flying up, dazzlingly brilliant in the sunlight.

She suddenly leaned over and hugged his neck. Before Gong Yin could turn his head, her tongue tip had already gently licked his neck.

Gong Yin stiffened for a moment, then reached back to embrace her waist, wanting to draw her onto his lap. But Jing Hengbo twisted her waist and wouldn’t comply. As she twisted, Gong Yin felt his arms and shoulders being rubbed by surging soft parts, wave after wave, with a different flavor. He looked down and then stopped moving, yet felt itching at his neck. This little vixen was slowly licking his neck, her tongue tip slowly dragging across, long strokes, playfully as if writing the character “one” with her tongue tip. His neck was slightly wet, slightly itchy. Those fine nerves and blood vessels seemed to be awakened by those fragrant kisses. From his throat downward, boiling and rippling, his skin gradually tightening. Whether moistened by her breath or because his body and heartbeat suddenly accelerated, his entire body slowly tensed up. In his ear he heard her soft laughter, while she continued licking his neck over and over, as if enamored with the taste of that spot, endlessly lingering, her hands slowly reaching into his clothes.

His body stiffened again. Jing Hengbo, through his undergarment, gently pinched and slowly teased, her fingertips flicking back and forth like little birds, her tongue tip brushing back and forth on his neck. Gong Yin’s gaze fell on the stove outside the window before he realized this vixen queen was using her tongue to lick away the ash traces on his neck…

In other words, no one could hide anything from anyone.

The corner of his lips curved up as he turned his head and nuzzled her lips. This was also quite a particular person – even eating ash, she made it taste so good…

Licking led to touching, touching led to toppling. The wide armchair Gong Yin sat in squeezed two people. Jing Hengbo burrowed in like a small beast. The table was somehow bumped by someone’s knee and trembled slightly. The porridge surface had already congealed, snow-white, gleaming with lustrous light like a reunited mirror, reflecting the flowers outside the window blooming in their last season of abundance, and the woman’s tender, moist eyes.

Gradually there were some panting sounds, but before the panting fully emerged, “Bang!” A loud crash shook everything outside with a clatter, as if something had flapped against the window paper.

The room quieted. After a while, Jing Hengbo’s muttering voice arose: “This chair is really not sturdy enough. Are you pressed down?”

After another quiet moment, Gong Yin’s slightly unsteady voice responded: “Weren’t you being too hasty?”

“Go die!” Jing Hengbo cursed. There were creaking sounds in the room – obviously some furniture had broken. Then someone’s clearly unsatisfied voice coldly demanded: “Who’s outside?”

Outside the room quieted again. A moment later, the window opened and Er Gouzi shot in at a speed it couldn’t achieve on its own, wings spread straight out in the posture of a maiden about to be offered on an altar.

Behind it, Feifei’s big tail flashed by and disappeared in a streak.

Clearly, the weak bird had again been kicked in by the strong cat as a target.

A blink later, Er Gouzi flew out in the same posture. After a while, Jing Hengbo calmly walked out, standing in the corridor smoothing her hair and temples, looking at the brilliant sunny weather, gazing at the people in the courtyard who seemed to be casually walking around as if nothing had happened, muttering: “Mm, it’s about to rain…”

Yelu Qi walked past under the window carrying a bowl of freshly made porridge that was perfect in color, aroma, and taste, its fragrance filling the entire courtyard.

Pei Shu sat in a tree in the middle of the courtyard, snorted coldly, and cursed: “Adulterous couple!”

…

These past two days, Meng City had been very restless.

Everyone knew about the sacrifice to heaven and imperial self-blame. For the common people, this was an irrelevant action by the emperor, probably eighty percent to quell the rumors that had been rampant these days. For neutral ministers and those who believed in heaven, they sincerely hoped this heavenly sacrifice could obtain heaven’s forgiveness and calm Meng City’s uneasy atmosphere. For certain ambitious people, they were waiting and believing that the beginning of this heavenly sacrifice would be the new beginning of a dynasty.

Jing Hengbo stood under the corridor eaves, smelling an unpleasant odor from the front courtyard and frowning. She had received an invitation to tomorrow’s heavenly sacrifice. Currently, envoys from several other kingdoms had also arrived in Meng City to celebrate the old king’s birthday. The International Pavilion housed envoys from the Liuli Tribe, Yi Kingdom, and Chentie, all receiving invitations to observe the ceremony. Of course, Ji Kingdom wouldn’t send anyone else. Ji Wen, about to be invested as Crown Princess, could still provide this much cooperation.

Jing Hengbo looked at the still brilliant sky overhead, finding it truly hard to believe there would be torrential rain tomorrow. Then she saw Tian Qi walking past her with a somewhat limping gait.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked casually.

Tian Qi patted his knee and said, “This leg broke when I was climbing mountains as a child. Later it became a cold leg – it always acts up on cloudy days.” He looked up at the sky. “Tomorrow, it will definitely rain – a big storm.”

Jing Hengbo watched him walk past with a slight limp, then looked back at Gong Yin’s room, her heart suddenly stirring.

Tian Qi’s injured leg predicted the storm’s arrival one day in advance, but Gong Yin had known three days ago that there would be torrential rain.

Why was this?

…

The night was deep.

Prince Ping stood on the high tower of his mansion, looking up at the sky. Tonight wasn’t a night of bright moon and sparse stars. From the firmament could be felt the dark, rain-heavy atmosphere.

Prince Ping was very satisfied with this. The Imperial Observatory’s weather calculations were actually accurate.

He held a small bottle in his hand – the type Jing Hengbo had sold. Lord Hei San, who had presented him with this gift and thus gained his deeper trust, stood beside him. This person still wore black robes covering head to toe, his features unclear. Fortunately, Prince Ping didn’t mind much. He felt martial artists were all kinds of strange and should be tolerated to show his courtesy to the worthy. Having played the virtuous king for so long, most of the time his behavior patterns did indeed appear virtuous.

Prince Ping sniffed the bottle’s unique scent and asked Lord Hei San seemingly casually, “Everything prepared?”

“Your Highness can rest assured.”

“Such heavy rain,” Prince Ping looked somewhat worried. “What if this gets doused…”

“The Imperial Observatory went to the altar two days ago under the pretext of preparing for the heavenly sacrifice and made renovations. The rain won’t reach below.” Lord Hei San said calmly. “Other places are also arranged.”

“There won’t be any mishaps?”

“There won’t be.” Lord Hei San said. “Only worried about one thing – if that legendary queen is here, with her abilities, she might indeed cause variables.”

“She won’t be.” Prince Ping said confidently. “You also know the results of testing the Ji Kingdom princess that day at the mansion. I suspect the Meng family knew about Meng Hu being under house arrest and struck first, joining with the Ji Kingdom envoy team to sabotage my plan, kidnapping Ji Xiang’er to make me wary of consequences. You know the Meng family has always been neutral, doesn’t like getting involved in court political struggles, so they only kidnapped Ji Xiang as a warning without making any demands. If it were really the queen, how could she pass up this chance to use Ji Xiang to threaten the Ji family and me? More importantly, the court has already received a message from Ji Kingdom to be forwarded to the envoy team. Our people secretly saw the contents – the Ji Kingdom Queen told the envoy team to detour to Shang Kingdom after Meng Kingdom’s birthday celebrations to seek a famous medicine. So this envoy team is real. Additionally, the Assistant Minister of Rites has already gone to Tianwu Prefecture to welcome the queen’s imperial carriage. It will probably take another three or four days to arrive. She can’t possibly fly here and ruin my good work, can she?”

“That’s right,” Lord Hei San flattered. “By the time they arrive, the one leading hundreds of officials in welcome will already be you.”

Prince Ping was in very good spirits and laughed heartily. In his laughter, several thick black clouds on the horizon drew closer.

…

Because tomorrow would hold the imperial self-blame sacrifice to heaven, the altar began martial law two nights early. After the Imperial Observatory checked inside and outside the altar, it was jointly sealed by the Feathered Forest Guards and the Military Commission. A full ten thousand troops moved into this area of less than three li radius. People stood with almost no gaps between them. When swords and spears were raised, they could form a steel wall that not even water could penetrate.

The closer to the sacrifice date, the tenser the atmosphere. The soldiers received deadly orders – not even a fly could enter the altar before the heavenly sacrifice! If any unusual movement appeared, one person’s failure would mean the execution of the squad, one squad’s failure would mean the execution of the entire army! So no one dared to relax, or even blink, afraid that closing and reopening their eyes would let a fly in and their heads would roll.

Under such intense scrutiny from everyone with wide-open eyes, even winged immortals would find it difficult to enter the altar undetected.

So Prince Ping was very confident and went to sleep early. He needed sufficient sleep to perform with full energy tomorrow.

The sky grew darker and darker. Because of the impending rain, air pressure was very low. With the sea of people before the altar, the air felt even more oppressive. Soldiers stared at the dark sky overhead and the eye-straining white altar below, somehow all feeling tense, their breathing unconsciously becoming rapid.

Tense atmosphere was contagious. Excessive pressure led to various abnormalities. Gradually some people felt they couldn’t hold on and looked around for relief, then suddenly someone let out a huge “Eh!”

This “Eh!” was actually more like a cry of alarm, only forcibly suppressed by the person due to the enormous atmospheric pressure.

However, it ultimately couldn’t be suppressed, and more people saw it.

“Ghost fires! Ghost fires appeared again!”

Someone shouted in alarm. In terrified pupils were captured masses of pale ghostly fire – from the forests on both sides of the altar, countless ghost fire clusters suddenly floated out, drifting toward the troops.

Having the terrifying reinforcement of the royal palace ghost fire incident from a few days ago, seeing ghost fires here again brought unimaginable pressure to the soldiers. Even though these ghost fires weren’t actually as large as those in the royal palace that night, nor as numerous – carefully looking revealed only a dozen or so blue-white clusters – at this moment, just their appearance here was an enormous psychological threat.

Though the soldiers hadn’t moved yet, many stared wide-eyed, fixedly watching those ghost fires, sweat rolling down their foreheads.

The generals’ voices rang out, slightly panicked yet forcibly maintaining composure, sternly commanding a team to enter the forest to investigate. A squad of fully armored soldiers charged into the forest, but this made the ghost fires float more chaotically and quickly. These things followed people around and couldn’t be dispersed. From a distance, it looked like the entire forest was filled with ghost fires chasing soldiers around…

Everyone was captured by fear, instinctively staring fixedly at that forest and the ghost fires within. When people faced frightening things, they often forgot to flee or react, only knowing their hearts contracted, staring blankly…

So when everyone’s attention was drawn to the forest ghost fires, a black shadow suddenly flashed through the ten thousand troops and appeared on the altar, and surprisingly no one saw it.

The shadow appearing on the altar was extremely eerie, as if appearing there out of thin air. The shadow circled the altar at extreme speed.

A general seemed to sense something and was about to turn his face when the figure on the altar moved their sleeve, releasing a small beast, then the figure flashed and disappeared. That general only caught a glimpse of a black shadow and thought his eyes were playing tricks after seeing ghost fires.

The small beast was very small and snow-white all over. On the snow-white altar, it wasn’t conspicuous at all. Moreover, at this time no one was in the mood to pay attention to the altar, so that small beast scratched and dug on the altar, quite busy for a while, then leaped down from the altar and slipped away through people’s legs.

Some people sensed something, but at this moment, everything they saw would be thought to be ghost fire illusions.

When everyone discovered those ghost fires weren’t numerous and gradually extinguished, and nothing happened around them, they gradually relaxed and returned their attention to the altar.

Some experienced generals, looking at the forest where ghost fires had inexplicably appeared, then at the altar, thinking of the black shadow they seemed to glimpse through eye strain, felt a cloud of doubt.

If someone had indeed tried to divert the tiger from the mountain and attempted to enter the altar, but in such a brief time, before so many people, ultimately nothing happened – then he had wasted his efforts. What exactly was he trying to do?