FRGNM -Chapter 121 The Meeting

A formation? Ling Ruoxi’s eyes brightened with interest as she examined her surroundings. “This is inside the formation? I’ve studied formations so many times, but it’s my first time inside one. Let me see…”

“Don’t move recklessly!” Luo Mingyu grabbed her wrist with a faint smile. “This formation is composed of three layers of illusions. One wrong step, and you’ll be sent into another scene. It was set up by Duan Yun Kingdom to test our abilities.”

“Test our abilities using a formation?” Ling Ruoxi paused, glancing around. “I don’t have any fighting energy. If this formation targets me, I’m done for.”

“No need for fighting energy. The formation is simple—you just need to find the formation’s eye, and you can break out,” Luo Mingyu said lightly. He had no intention of doing it himself, knowing that the cunning old fox was secretly watching nearby.

Clenching her fists, Ling Ruoxi raised her eyebrows with a smile. “Since I don’t need fighting energy, that makes things much easier. Let’s see.”

She scanned the grand hall before her, eyes fixed on the dragon throne above. Slowly, she calmed her mind. The surrounding railings and jade decorations were priceless, yet the dragon throne itself was carved from wood.

Others seemed to notice as well. Their eyes brightened, and they rushed toward the throne.

Ling Ruoxi, however, remained calm, standing in the center with a smirk.

Those who reached for the throne were immediately expelled from the hall the moment they touched it, no longer permitted entry.

“The only place in this formation where no fighting energy is required to break the structure… must be here,” she muttered, casually stepping on a jade stone.

In an instant, the white mist cleared, revealing a hall already set for a banquet. Even the dragon throne had a man in a yellow robe seated upon it.

“Haha! Well done!” Applause erupted. The ministers present were surprised that the formation had been broken by a woman—one with no fighting energy at all.

Ling Ruoxi blinked at the man on the throne. She had seen Nangong Qin back in Beining Kingdom, and while there were some similarities between Nangong Mo and him, the man on the throne—Murong Hua—looked like a perfect copy of Nangong Mo.

If it weren’t for the presence of a quality Nangong Mo lacked, she might have mistaken him. Her grandson looked far too much like him.

“Little girl, don’t be rude. This is the king of Duan Yun Kingdom. Kneel,” said a man seated nearby with a low laugh.

Ling Ruoxi turned to look at him, her heart nearly shattering. “Ye Ningfeng… when did you grow a beard?”

“Miss Ruoxi, that is my father,” said the man behind, smiling awkwardly.

Some things, like racial features, cannot be changed. Ling Ruoxi couldn’t help marveling at the advantages of fighting energy—it could completely obscure one’s identity. For instance, beside her stood a thousand-year-old elder, completely unrecognizable.

Sensing her thoughts, the insolent man pinched Ling Ruoxi’s wrist, then looked up at the figure on the throne.

A chilling aura exploded like a cold winter wind, sharp as blades, stabbing at everyone’s hearts.

So cold!

Murong Hua on the dragon throne merely raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly. “So this is the Xie King. The woman beside you must be my grandson’s bride, Ling Ruoxi?”

The mention of “grandson’s bride” made everyone hold their breath, all eyes on Ling Ruoxi. More than twenty years ago, the deceased Princess had arranged a marriage for her child—but ignorant Nangong Qin had annulled it when Ling Ruoxi went to Liuli Island!

“How easy it was to dissolve such a hard-earned union…”

“Hmm?” Luo Mingyu’s cold laugh echoed as he said, “Ruoxi is mine now; she has no connection to your grandson. If it weren’t for your father, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Xie King…” A low voice echoed as a pale purple figure stepped into the palace.

A handsome man entered, bathed in gentle sunlight. His features resembled Nangong Mo, but his eyes held the depth of centuries of wisdom, revealing nothing easily.

Ling Ruoxi was about to speak but was pushed by Luo Mingyu to the side of the man in blue. The proud man stood coldly, head held high, facing the newcomer. “Long time no see, King Yun.”

“Hmph…”

The tension crackled between the two, neither yielding. The atmosphere in the hall became instantly awkward.

Even Murong Hua smiled faintly, watching the two stand-off. Flames of hostility seemed to fill the hall.

“You brat!” Both men raised their hands simultaneously to strike. Murong Ming laughed heartily. “Still playing the cool guy after all this time.”

“And you, old stubborn one, still playing childish games,” Luo Mingyu retorted lightly.

Ling Ruoxi had no idea what was happening. Just a moment ago they had been like enemies; now they acted like old friends.

“You kidnapped my great-grandson’s bride, and you still have the nerve to speak!” Murong Ming glanced at Ling Ruoxi, nodding. “This child truly takes after her mother.”

Ling Ruoxi’s pupils constricted. She stepped forward to block Luo Mingyu. “You know my mother?”

“Of course. But I won’t tell you who she is,” Murong Ming replied with a faint smile, stepping up the hall to Murong Hua. “Today is just a gathering. My great-grandson, Nangong Mo, will officially return to the Murong lineage and take my surname.”

As he spoke, fireworks exploded outside. Surrounded by maids, a golden figure entered the hall.

He bore Murong Hua’s features, though younger, and his black eyes scanned the crowd until they found Ling Ruoxi, showing a faint smile.

“I hereby declare that from today, Murong Mo returns to Duan Yun Kingdom, receiving the title King of Nan Ning. Ling Ruoxi, you are not yet Xie King’s wife. Before all, will you still become my great-grandson’s bride?” Murong Ming smiled. “As King of Nan Ning, he will inherit the throne, but he does not yet possess all of it. He can also modify your body so you can cultivate fighting energy.”

Ling Ruoxi’s heart skipped a beat. Cultivating fighting energy was her lifelong dream…

As she stepped forward, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Luo Mingyu’s face turned dark. “You’re handing my woman to your great-grandson? Old man, have you lived too long?”

“Heh, you brat, asking for trouble?” The elder chuckled, his cold light flashing.

In a flash, both figures disappeared from the hall, appearing outside. Two purple auras filled the sky.

Murong Ming’s right hand swept, and the purple fighting energy shot out like lightning, transforming into a dozen arrows mid-air, each glinting coldly.

Luo Mingyu sneered, drawing his black scythe like a hellish reaper. He swung it, shattering all the arrows.

The other man merely raised an eyebrow. “So eager, already using your black scythe? Fine, I’ll play along.” He drew a gleaming longsword in his right hand, glowing like a full moon.

The black scythe clashed against the white longsword, gusting strong wind. Murong Ming’s expression darkened, complex.

Luo Mingyu nodded coldly, pressing one hand on the scythe, separating from his opponent.

“You brat!” Murong Ming withdrew his sword. “So many guests here today, can’t you show me some respect?”

“Of course.” Luo Mingyu retracted his scythe and turned back indifferently.

Murong Ming remained outside, watching someone approach the palace. “Young Master Fang, your timing is perfect. The banquet has just begun; please take your seat.”

“King Yun, you’re too polite. I don’t deserve such courtesy.” The figure moved lightly, reaching the palace entrance in the blink of an eye.

The dark figure presented a gift box. “A small token, please accept it, King Yun. It’s a humble gesture from me.”

“Excellent.” Murong Ming waved it inside the hall with a maid carrying it.

Ling Ruoxi spotted the newcomer and was about to greet him, but Luo Mingyu pulled her wrist, seating her in the back.

“What? I—Fang Xu…”

“That’s not Fang Xu,” Luo Mingyu whispered, placing a cup of wine before her. “Fang Xu is with your senior. He wouldn’t come alone. Besides… Fang Xu isn’t left-handed.”

Ling Ruoxi noticed the man standing smiled faintly, but his left hand moved slightly strangely.

“The left-handedness… who would impersonate Fang Xu?” she murmured.

“You tell me. Someone against us. Murong Ming is no easy foe; he realized I lacked fighting energy just now,” Luo Mingyu said coldly, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Young Master Fang, please take your seat,” Murong Ming said, nodding. Pressing on Nangong Mo’s shoulder, he added, “Sit, my great-grandson. We have an account to settle later.”

Nangong Mo was puzzled but was gently guided into his place by Murong Ming.