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December.
Li Yuan now sat in the courtyard of the Star Manor.
The carriage carrying the secret art steles had finally come to a halt.
The Wolfmother sat on a rock, lost in thought. There was something honest and almost pitiful about her expression. It said, If I thought I could get away, I’d have bolted long ago.
Meng Xingxian was hunched over a bowl of noodles. Without Yin energy, she was just an ordinary person. At this moment, she looked every bit like someone who had given up and was just going with the flow.
Ying Zhuoyao, on the other hand, sat quietly to the side. Her powers were drawn from Li Yuan’s lifespan, and so she had barely been affected. She sat calmly at a table, brush in hand, copying down text.
It was the Human Emperor’s Martial Canon.
Zhen'er had passed the manual to her father and openly shared her thoughts.
Now that a new era had dawned, she believed that high ranking martial artists were actually the root of most chaos in this world.
What this land needed wasn’t more warriors; it needed ordinary people.
So she hadn’t released the Martial Canon to the world. In fact, not even her husband knew of its existence.
Back then, the Human Emperor himself had told her that if the world hadn’t yet healed, she should pass this book on. If the people couldn’t eat grain, then let them become martial artists and feast on...
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