Chapter 47: A Stinging Slap Across the Face

The entire hall was stunned! No one could have anticipated that Jun Wushuang would actually dare to slap Nangong Tianxuan across the face.

How could he have the audacity?

Nangong Tianxuan was the heir of the Nangong family, a Heavenly-ranked student at the Royal Martial Academy, and a powerful expert at the Celestial Human Realm with the Fierce Thunder Royal Physique. In front of him, everyone was expected to show the utmost respect.

Yet Jun Wushuang dared to slap him in public.

It was utter madness!

Even Nangong Tianxuan himself was dumbfounded, his mind reeling from the blow. Though, given his strength, such a slap could not truly harm him, the mark left upon his cheek was an indelible humiliation.

"You dare strike me?" Nangong Tianxuan’s eyes blazed with fury, his anger erupting.

Smack!

Jun Wushuang delivered another slap, this time splitting Nangong Tianxuan’s lip and drawing blood from his nose.

"Can’t feel it yet? Then have another!"

"Is that enough?" Jun Wushuang spoke with an offhanded air, as if he were merely chastising a stray dog or cat.

The hall was plunged into silence.

Everyone stared at Jun Wushuang in utter shock.

They hadn’t expected one slap, let alone a second. These two blows were certainly satisfying to watch, but next, Jun Wushuang would have to face a furious Nangong Tianxuan.

With Nangong Tianxuan’s power, he could kill Jun Wushuang with a single hand.

This was pure self-destruction!

"Aaaargh! I’ll kill you!" Nangong Tianxuan roared, his rage reaching its peak. The aura of a Celestial Human Realm cultivator exploded forth. He clenched his right fist, drawing upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, emanating a suffocating sense of oppression.

Boom!

As his fist struck out, the air itself shattered, visible shockwaves of white energy rippling outward.

This punch could pulverize a mountain.

"It’s over. He’s dead. Having angered the heir of the Nangong family, no one can save him now!"

"As expected, a frog at the bottom of a well from the provinces, completely ignorant of the dangers above. How dare he offend the heir of the Nangong family!"

"What kind of figure is the heir of the Nangong family? And he was struck across the face twice! For him, that’s an unbearable disgrace. If someone did that to me, I’d flay them alive, break their bones, and scatter their remains!"

As Nangong Tianxuan attacked, the crowd’s faces changed.

At the same time, they looked at Jun Wushuang with nothing but contempt and ridicule.

Yet, faced with this punch, Jun Wushuang’s expression remained calm, utterly without fear.

He reached out, not for the Asura Devil Blade, but for the Command of the Prince of the Southern March.

To see this command was to see the Prince himself!

Nangong Tianxuan’s fist, before the Command, came to an abrupt halt.

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his face turning deathly pale.

Forcibly halting his own attack had backfired upon him, injuring him internally. But even so, he dared not touch the Command of the Prince of the Southern March.

That was a power he could not afford to provoke.

"You see? I struck you. What can you do about it?" Jun Wushuang grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.

The Command of the Southern March: the perfect tool for slapping faces, and it never failed!

Jun Wushuang had not intended to rely so heavily on the Prince’s command, but some people simply begged for a beating—people like Dongfang Ming, and now, Nangong Tianxuan.

"The Command of the Southern March!"

Many recognized the command at once, gasping in astonishment.

The crowd was aghast.

None could have expected that Jun Wushuang would possess a command bestowed by the Prince of the Southern March.

Outside the imperial capital, the Command wielded immense power. Within the capital, its authority was even greater.

Never mind slapping Nangong Tianxuan twice—even four times would be nothing.

"Damn it, how did he manage to curry favor with the Prince of the Southern March?"

In the distance, Ji Qingchen’s expression shifted as she witnessed this scene.

She had been in the capital long enough to know what the title ‘Prince of the Southern March’ truly meant.

She had expended every effort just to gain the barest connection to Nangong Tianxuan, while Jun Wushuang could actually obtain the Prince’s command.

The difference was vast.

With this in mind, Ji Qingchen quietly retreated behind the crowd.

She did indeed wish to kill Jun Wushuang to avenge her father, but as long as he held the Prince’s command, she could not act, or she would suffer the same fate as Nangong Tianxuan.

She had no wish to be publicly humiliated, nor to be forced into a corner by Jun Wushuang.

Fanning the flames and inciting others—that was her true talent.

She would never choose to confront him head-on.

"Jun Wushuang, there is time yet. I have all the time in the world to play with you," Ji Qingchen’s eyes flickered, schemes whirling in her mind.

"What skill is there in hiding behind the Prince’s authority? If you have the guts, put away the command and face me directly. I’ll beat you to death!" Nangong Tianxuan gnashed his teeth, his hair bristling with rage.

"Are you stupid?" Jun Wushuang scoffed.

"I’m at the Myriad Forms Realm—only a fool would fight you, a Celestial Human Realm expert, head-on!"

Nangong Tianxuan was much too strong—even if Jun Wushuang used his divine forbidden arts, he could not match him.

"I’ll seal my cultivation and fight you at your level—a true duel to the death! Do you dare?" Nangong Tianxuan glared at Jun Wushuang, desperate to force him into battle, where he could finally take his revenge.

But self-sealing one’s cultivation—who would oversee it but himself? Once Jun Wushuang was dead, would the Prince of the Southern March really go to war with the Nangong family for a corpse?

Smack!

Just as Nangong Tianxuan was plotting, Jun Wushuang unhesitatingly struck him once more.

This slap left stars spinning before Nangong Tianxuan’s eyes, and he staggered unsteadily.

"Too much talk. Kneel!"

Jun Wushuang was unyielding.

"What did you say?" Nangong Tianxuan was livid. He had hoped to provoke Jun Wushuang, but instead, he was being driven to fury himself.

"Jun Wushuang, who do you think you are?"

"Don’t think you can ride roughshod over me just by borrowing another’s power. I am the heir of the Nangong family, a Heavenly-ranked student of the Royal Martial Academy. You think you can make me kneel?"

"The command may protect you for a while, but not forever."

Nangong Tianxuan had never suffered such humiliation. Now, he stared daggers at Jun Wushuang, wishing he could devour him whole.

Smack!

Jun Wushuang stepped forward and delivered yet another slap.

This blow carried a devouring demonic energy, its force tremendous.

Nangong Tianxuan had no time to react; he screamed and fell to the ground.

"Today, I’ll borrow the tiger’s power just this once!"

"So what if you’re the Nangong heir?"

"So what if you’re a Heavenly-ranked student?"

"Today, it’s you I’m slapping!"

As Jun Wushuang scolded and berated him, he showed no mercy, raining slap after slap upon him.

Nangong Tianxuan groaned in pain, his cheeks swelling red.

"Smack!"

"And what of it if I hit you?"

"Your brother’s a scoundrel, and so are you!"

"Still dare to provoke me? I’d like to see what you can do!"

Blood streamed from Nangong Tianxuan’s nose and mouth as he roared in fury.

He was the heir of the Nangong family, a Heavenly-ranked student of the Royal Martial Academy—yet now he was being beaten like a stray dog, completely powerless to resist.

And all with open-handed slaps.

If Jun Wushuang had used a powerful martial technique, it would have been one thing. But this string of slaps shattered his pride and trampled his dignity.

Yet he dared not retaliate.

The Command of the Southern March hung over him like a mountain, suffocating.

He knew that if he fought back, the Prince of the Southern March would annihilate his family by dawn.

That was a burden he could not bear.

"Enough!"

At that moment, a furious shout rang out!