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Chapter 683: How Dare You Steal Luck From the Lady of Luck (1)

Even amidst the power struggles within the JI family, the health and vitality of Old Master Ji ensured he would live at least another fifteen years, keeping the immediate and collateral relatives from making rash moves.

Some major family decisions could be influenced by JI Xingzhi, let alone trivial matters.

Master Mingdeng’s pupils suddenly constricted. He was beside himself with fury as he shouted, “Demoness, spouting nonsense! How dare you even mention the JI family name!”

In terms of comprehensive martial prowess, the JI family was indeed the foremost among the three aristocratic families.

After all, in years past, an ancestor of the JI family had used a secret technique to sacrifice himself, repelling an invasion of a hundred thousand troops attacking the Eastern State with a mere wave of his hand.

It was beyond ordinary comprehension how terrifying the pinnacle of mastery in the ways of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements could be.

So many years had passed, and not even the revered ancestors of the JI family had reached such heights.

“Why can’t I mention it? I’m JI Xingzhi, unchanged in name or seat, the eldest of the sixty-second generation of the JI family.” JI Xingzhi grew irate, “I’ll call my grandfather. Actually, never mind calling, let me show you the true secret techniques of the JI family.”

He raised his hand, drawing symbols and forming seals.

Within seconds, a spectral image appeared before him.

A voice emanated from it.

“What are you up to, you rascal? When you were getting chased around Eastern Mulberry, I didn’t see you calling me like this. What’s happened, are you dying?”

JI Xingzhi, infuriated, retorted, “Nonsense, what kind of grandfather curses his own grandson like that? I’ve encountered a bald fraud claiming to be a disciple of our family, using our name to throw his weight around. Do you know someone named JI Mingtai?”

“Just that?” Old Master Ji took a deep breath, “You’d better not come back anytime soon. I might lose control and beat you to death.”

On the ground, Master Mingdeng was stunned, unable to hear another word.

Thousand-Mile Projection and Voice Transmission!

This was a secret technique not passed outside the JI family.

It was exactly because Emperor Yin had powerful Masters of Yin-Yang like this by his side that he could timely control the battle situations across the five states of Great Xia.

Historic texts mentioned this technique, but historians deemed it an exaggerated legend, akin to the Miracle Doctor Alliance, with purpose to mystify Emperor Yin and the three families and four alliances.

If one did not witness it themselves, it was hard to believe.

Master Mingdeng felt darkness before his eyes as blood trickled down his lips.

It wasn’t from rage, but from sheer terror.

“I’m here with my big brother,” JI Xingzhi obtained the information he wanted and waved his hand dismissively, “Alright, go on with your business.”

He ended the secret technique just before Old Master JI’s roar could reach him.

In modern society, this technique was practically useless, as smartphones and computers connected the world easily enough.

Plus, it was enormously taxing, and he could only use it a couple of times in a short period.

It was like chicken ribs, tasteless to eat but a pity to waste.

Yet, in situations where signals were jammed, it was a lifesaver.

“She claimed I stole her luck, did she say that?” Si Fuqing spoke indifferently, “After all these years using my luck, has life not treated her well?”

“The Ji family thinking they can just walk into the Free State? Just see if they can even enter.”

“Impossible!” Master Mingdeng was shocked but stood his ground, “Qingwei has been under my care since she was young, how could she steal someone else’s luck? If she did, wouldn’t her health be better?”

“Indeed, a lack of skill,” JI Xingzhi approached, “but think about it, maybe it’s precisely because she couldn’t handle the stolen luck that her health deteriorated. And now I understand, I asked my grandfather, the JI Mingtai you mentioned had died two years ago.”

“Even when JI Mingtai was alive, within our JI family, he was nothing more than an outer sect disciple. What could he have possibly taught you?”

Master Mingdeng felt a simultaneous shock to his psyche, spewing blood, his face ghastly pale, “You… you’re spewing nonsense!”

His master was clearly an elder of the JI family!

But Thousand-Mile Projection and Voice Transmission couldn’t be faked.

The ancient books also recorded that only direct descendants of the JI family could learn this secret technique.

“Like master, like disciple,” JI Xingzhi clicked his tongue, “You and your master, both so arrogantly confident.”

Master Mingdeng’s hands trembled, veins bulging on his forehead.

“He was an outer sect member, and though he took you as a disciple, you never underwent the formal process of our JI family,” JI Xingzhi said leisurely, back turned, “That makes you even less than a nominal disciple of our family, old baldy. Stop living in your own world and spouting big words here.”