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Meanwhile, the long river had run into the sea.
The chaos in the capital, the bloodshed in Taihang, the maneuvering on the banks of the Yellow River—none of it was visible to Zhao Changhe, nor had any bearing on his mind.
He had done what he could. The affairs of the world could not, and should not, be the burden of a single person. He had neither the capacity nor the will to take on everything. Vermillion Bird and Tang Wanzhuang each had their own means to achieve their goals. They were already top-tier powerhouses long before Zhao Changhe had even transmigrated into this world.
Well, technically, they’re all my bosses one way or another…
Even Xia Chichi was no pushover. If her abilities could not be trusted, there was no point in trying to establish this dynasty, after all; it would simply collapse under its own weight.
Instead, Zhao Changhe was now focused on the Wang Clan’s secret realm, a place fraught with more immediate danger.
The moment he entered, a crushing pressure engulfed him, nearly tearing him apart. The pressure bore down on him so intensely that it felt as though his body was about to implode. Without the affinity for water energy he had gained through his dual cultivation with Lady Three, even stepping into this space would have been fatal.
The water pressure here was greater than at the bottom of the deep...
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