The moment he mentioned the statue, coldness suffused Hua Cheng’s darkened expression; if it wasn’t for Xie Lian holding him back, he probably would’ve gone over and stomped on Qi Rong’s face some more. However, Xie Lian knew perfectly well what kind of person Qi Rong was: he was a little sick in the head, and the more extreme the reaction, the more excited he’d get and the more outrageous he’d become. Reverse psychology was the most effective strategy, so Xie Lian only smiled faintly.
He said, unconcerned, “It’s only so-so. Sorry, but the craftsmanship is rather inferior.”
As expected, Qi Rong’s face immediately fell. He said coldly, “Be content with what you’ve got. If it wasn’t for my affection of old urging me to carve you a couple of statues, who would even worship you? You probably sniveled and whined at Jun Wu’s feet and hugged his legs ’til your knees were busted to ascend this time. Go around the Upper Court and see for yourself; which official isn’t more dignified than you? Even a two-hundred-year-old ascendee could walk all over you. Over eight hundred years old and this is the state you’re in? What a failure.”
Xie Lian smiled. “I am quite the failure. Not like my cousin, already a wrath after eight hundred years.”
Xie Lian knew way too well how to put Qi Rong down. Next to him, Hua Cheng snorted, and Qi Rong’s face darkened for real. He looked between all those present and suddenly spoke.
“This attitude… Did you beg Hua Cheng to kick me around today to settle our differences?”
Xie Lian was taken aback. He thought about the current picture they painted and actually couldn’t argue back.
Qi Rong continued, “Look at you both. The moment I say anything bad about you, whoa! Look how mad he gets. Was he blinded by that holy light from your halo? Yooo, I forgot! Isn’t he already blind in one eye? HA HA ha ha ha…”
Before he could finish, Qi Rong’s own sight went dark again, and his cheek exploded in agony as he spewed blood from his mouth—he got himself socked again! However, this punch wasn’t from Hua Cheng, it was from Xie Lian.
Xie Lian’s fist was faster than the eye could possibly track, and he said coldly, “Just because I’ve never hit you before, it doesn’t mean I would never hit you.”
His punch was a brutal one, and it was a long while before Qi Rong could say anything. He lay on the ground like a mangy dog, pounding the ground as he cackled.
“Cousin Crown Prince, you hit me! You actually hit me! Heavens, our noble, kind, compassionate, charitable crown prince, who’s scared of stepping on even a tiny ant, actually copped an attitude and swung at me! HE’S HITTING PEOPLE! INCREDIBLE! AMAZING!!”
He was outrageously excited to the point of insanity. Lang Qianqiu had never seen anyone whose words and actions were so mad, and he was shocked into stupefaction after witnessing this singular act.
He mumbled, “Is…is he crazy?”
Xie Lian was used to seeing Qi Rong’s madness and didn’t think much of it. “You’ve heard him. He’s insane. He’s unbalanced, so you can’t believe anything he says.”
Qi Rong’s laughter came to an abrupt stop. He schooled his face and sneered. “Don’t be so quick to tell people I’m psycho. Let me ask you: How did Prince An Le die?!”
This was the question Hua Cheng had posed to him, and now he was turning it to Xie Lian instead. Lang Qianqiu’s attention was suddenly focused on it again.
Xie Lian’s mind was collected, but he couldn’t immediately answer. Qi Rong, on the other hand, slowly crawled to his feet and sat, leaning against the kneeling statue.
“After An Le died, I cut open his corpse to inspect it, and all of his organs were pulverized by the vibrations of an exceedingly powerful sword. That’s why, despite not having any external injuries, he couldn’t stop hacking up blood. This was something no ordinary swordsman could do. At first, I thought Yong’an thugs had brought in a special hit man to frame An Le’s death as illness, but now that I think about it, there’s another who has the ability, and who is that, hmm?! Of course, my good ol’ cousin, defender of justice! After all, our Flower-Crowned Martial God, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, is a holy, pure, one and only, snow-white lotus of the heavenly mountains…”
Hua Cheng stomped on him, and Qi Rong yelped miserably. Lang Qianqiu felt like his mind was going to explode; he held his head, his eyes bloodshot.
“Shut up! Just tell me what you know! Who’s the real murderer? What happened at the Gilded Banquet? And what happened to Prince An Le? What happened?!”