The arrogant imperial concubine arrives, the favorite of the regent

Netherworld Jiuchong wore a golden mask with a ghost face and fangs. No one could tell the details of his expression just by looking at his exposed eyes and brows.

A pair of blood-red pupils that are different from ordinary people, and a blood lotus between the eyebrows that looks like a natural one. If there are slight fluctuations in these two places, it will be difficult for others to detect what specific changes in expression are flowing through them.

In addition, he always exudes a terrifying aura, and others dare not face him directly. How can they see the changes in his expression in the hollow parts of the mask?

Wei Song and the others were filled with confusion, which blocked their calm minds. They were glad that the Lord of Hell could reappear in front of them and that he seemed fine. But they were also worried that he might have encountered some problems or hidden secrets in the depths of his calm state.

Du Ziheng was determined to risk his life today, he had to find out what the current physical condition of the Lord of the Underworld was.

Du Ziheng took a deep breath and finally couldn't help asking, "Lord Ming, are you feeling unwell? Can I take your pulse?"

After hearing this, Youming Jiuchong never directed his indifferent eyes at any of his subordinates in front of him.

He stood on the high platform of the meeting hall, his red eyes coldly looking at the lampstands around the hall. On top of each layer of lampstands, there were some deep red candles burning fiercely.

This day was just like the last time Netherworld Nine Heavy came to the Underworld Palace for clues about the young master. The layout of the palace should have been magnificent, but once the candles and lamps on the lampstands were extinguished, the huge palace was left with only patches of pitch black. Last time, and this time, the light in the palace was obviously artificially created.

The people in the Hades Palace had extinguished many candles and lamps in the hall early on, because last time they saw the Lord of Hell with cold eyes, using a palm wind to extinguish most of the candles and lamps. Now, the Lord of Hell seemed to have changed a lot, and they did not dare to offend him, so they had to arrange the layout of the hall in the direction that the Lord of Hell liked in advance.

After the change, the Lord of Hell seems to dislike strong light even more...

At this moment, the Ninth Layer of the Netherworld was just looking at the dim light emitted from the candles and lamps.

I wonder if he didn't notice the worried and complicated expressions of his subordinates below the platform, or if he didn't intend to tell or explain anything to them too much? In short, he never looked directly at any living person in the hall.

Just now, Wei Song tried to ask Lord Youming a question, hoping to get to know Lord Youming's situation indirectly. But Lord Youming only gave a cold answer, so that Wei Song and his friends could not guess any useful information.

Now, Du Ziheng risked his life to ask about Lord Youming's health, but he got an indifferent response from Lord Youming. In other words, no response.

Du Ziheng's back was covered with sweat. He bit his pale lips tightly and repeated, "Ming Jun, are you feeling unwell? Can I take your pulse?"

The steward Mu Xilu, who was kneeling behind Du Ziheng, echoed in a trembling voice, saying that he was also concerned about the safety of Lord Ming. He recalled an incident in his mind. When Lord Ming appeared at the headquarters a few days ago and issued an order to protect the safety of Lord Ming's wife, he could not help but express his concern for Lord Ming. When Lord Ming heard his concern and greetings, he did not say much to him, but just said on the surface that his body, which had experienced the blood moon night, was fine...

In the dim light in the hall, Manager Lu shrank his head. Although he did not look up at this time, he always felt that the safety of the Lord of the Underworld was not as optimistic as they imagined.

Manager Mushilu is concerned about the safety of the nine realms of the underworld, and so is Manager Mo of the Underworld Palace.

If Steward Mo, who was dragged into the prison, was still here at this time, he would probably be like Wei Song, Du Ziheng and Steward Lu, risking his own life to inquire about his master's physical condition and take some measures to treat and remedy the situation.

After a moment, Netherworld Nine Layers showed some reaction to Du Ziheng's repeated question.

He tilted his head slightly, withdrew his gaze from the dim lamps, and then fell lightly on Du Ziheng, whose forehead was covered with sweat.

"No problem."

If this answer came from an ordinary patient, others would feel relieved when they heard it.

But now that this answer came from Youming Jiuchong, not only would the others not be able to completely put their minds at ease, but their already worried hearts would be even more worried.

Whether it was Lord Youming or His Highness the Night King, they didn't like to talk much most of the time, and their temperaments were cold. They also had a stubborn character, or a "tough" character. Even if they were seriously injured, they would never make a sound. They were very tough in their bones, but also very cold, which made others feel scared and cold.

Du Ziheng raised his hand and quickly wiped the sweat on his forehead that almost formed a curtain of water with the back of his hand.

He bent over and used his knees to move his body forward, still maintaining a kneeling posture.

But before he could open his mouth, a cold voice came from above his head.

"No diagnosis." This was the reply from the Netherworld Ninth Layer.

Du Ziheng's heart skipped a beat, and the expressions of the others were also very subtle.

Netherworld Nine seemed not to notice the reactions of the crowd. Then, with an indifferent attitude as if it had nothing to do with him, he told everyone in a cold voice: "I cannot die."

Lord Youming's stubbornness lingered in the huge palace. When waves of coldness attacked everyone's body and mind, there was also a trace of murderous intent that could not be ignored mixed with the coldness that penetrated into the bone marrow.

Everyone's scalps were tingling and their emotions were mixed. They also knew that they couldn't say anything more, let alone persuade them.

I don’t know how much time had passed. When everyone felt that their bodies and minds could no longer hold on, they heard a majestic voice echoing above their heads.

"Pass on my order, the counterattack begins—"

He didn't want to kill people, but there were always people who were willing to risk their lives to run into the muzzle of his gun.

Of course, the weapon that Youming Jiuchong usually uses is not the spear on the battlefield, but just his pair of iron hands.

He had no other equipment for protection or attack in his hands, only a pair of flesh and blood hands.

It is true that he is a mortal, but his body can also generate tremendous strength that is stronger than his fragile flesh.

However, within a few breaths, Netherworld Nine had already issued relevant orders to everyone.

At this time, the Underworld Palace, which had been closed for a long time, could lift the imprisonment order issued to search for spies, but the closed control inside and outside the Underworld Palace would become more strict in the future. The same was true for other Twilight Attics and large and small strongholds.

At this time, Netherworld Nine seemed to have regained his former self-respecting and cold state when he was wearing a red robe...

His behavior, speaking style, and way of doing things are not significantly different from that of the ordinary devil...