The widow becomes a fairy, and the time-traveling girl counterattacks and becomes the queen

After passing through numerous palaces, everyone finally arrived at the core square of the palace.

At the end of the square, on the Dantai that symbolizes the highest point of imperial power, a dazzling red-robed figure stood proudly. He was the mastermind behind all this - the Red-robed Holy Son.

A middle-aged woman was tied up on the chair next to him. Her hair was disheveled and her head was lowered, making it impossible to see her face.

The red-robed Saint had a playful and cold smile on his face. His gaze passed over everyone and finally fell on Chen Qingfeng and Wang Muyun.

"Ha, ha ha..." He let out a low laugh, "I didn't expect that you would arrive even faster than I imagined.

"Twenty years have passed since we last met, Chen Qingfeng. You've made some progress, and are no longer the frail, ordinary person you once were." His tone was filled with undisguised sarcasm and a hint of unexpected scrutiny.

"Red Robe, you are courting death!" Chen Qingfeng stepped forward, his imperial majesty displayed in stark contrast to the sinister aura of the Red Robe Saint.

"Seeking death?"

The red-robed Saint Son laughed out loud as if he had heard a huge joke.

"Chen Qingfeng, you are just a mortal emperor. Who gave you the courage to speak to this Saint Son like that? Twenty years ago, if Wang Muyun hadn't blocked that sword for you, you would have been killed by this Saint Son's sword!"

Wang Muyun stepped forward, his voice cold and admonishing: "Hongpao, the past is over. Why are you so stubborn? If you stop now, you might still be able to save your life."

"Stop? Haha, absolutely impossible!" The red-robed Holy Son's laughter stopped abruptly.

His gaze turned to Wang Muyun, and a complex light flashed in his eyes, including obsession, resentment, and a strong possessiveness.

"Mu Yun, it's been twenty years, and you are even more charming than before." The red-robed Saint glanced at Wang Xinyao again with greedy scrutiny.

"This is your daughter, right? I told you, how could your daughter, Wang Muyun, be the mediocre Gou Chunmei sent by Zhao Yucheng? That loser is more trouble than good!"

"You!" Yin Ping'an, who was standing by, became furious when he heard him insulting his own Mei'er and was about to rush forward.

Zhao Haoxuan was quick to act. He grabbed his shoulder and said in a deep voice, "Ping'an, be patient. This person has a high level of cultivation. You are no match for him. Just wait and see what happens."

The red-robed Holy Son didn't care about all this at all. His lustful gaze was like a substance, wandering back and forth between Wang Muyun and Wang Xinyao.

He sneered and said, "Wang Muyun, this Holy Son is merciful today and will give you a chance.

If you and your daughter are willing to submit and join my army, I might consider...sparing the lives of Chen Qingfeng, your cheap son-in-law, and everyone here. How do you think?"

As soon as these words came out, Zhao Haoxuan's face became so gloomy that water could drip out of it, and there was a murderous intent flashing in his eyes, and the dragon sword at his waist kept humming.

He subconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt of the dragon sword at his waist, and a sharp sword intent almost penetrated his body.

"Brother Zhao!" Wang Xinyao keenly noticed his change and quickly reached out to gently press the back of his hand, whispering, "Calm down. Father is here. Follow his instructions."

Only then did Zhao Haoxuan suppress his anger.

Chen Qingfeng's face was as cold as frost, and his voice seemed to come from the underworld: "Hongpao, you are really hopeless!"

"What? You're not convinced?" The Red-Robed Saint sneered, "You're just a mortal. If it weren't for a woman twenty years ago, you would have died at my hands. Do you intend to repeat the same mistake today?"

"You can give it a try." Chen Qingfeng's words were concise.

"Just try it!"

The Red Robe Saint could no longer contain himself. He was extremely confident in his cultivation after twenty years of hard work and was determined that he would be able to avenge his previous humiliation today.

He pushed the bound middle-aged woman toward Chen Yingtao, who had been standing by his side. "Keep an eye on her! If the situation changes, she'll be our life-saving amulet!"

"Yes! Don't worry, Your Excellency!" A desperate look of madness appeared on Chen Yingtao's face. He pulled the middle-aged woman in front of him and clamped her tightly.

He knew very well that he had no way out and that the only way for him to survive and ascend to the throne was to rely on the Red Robe Saint.

In the large square in front of the palace, the atmosphere instantly became extremely tense.

Chen Qingfeng and the Red Robe Saint moved almost at the same time!

The red-robed Holy Son was like a ghost, leaving behind a red afterimage. In his hand, a slender scimitar appeared. The blade shone with a faint blue luster, and was obviously poisoned.

The knife skills were strange and tricky, targeting the vital points of Chen Qingfeng's body.

Chen Qingfeng, however, was as steady as a rock, and did not dodge or evade until the poisonous blade was three inches in front of his body, then he dodged to the side in a flash.

He did not use any weapons, but only relied on a pair of flying palms. The palm wind was as powerful as the tide, with the power of wind and thunder, which completely blocked the strange sword light of the red-robed saint.

The two figures crossed each other at a speed that was dizzying.

The sound of energy colliding was endless, and the escaping strong wind tore through the air, making a whimpering sound.

However, after only twenty moves, the complacency and composure on the face of the Red Robe Saint gradually disappeared, replaced by increasingly intense horror and disbelief.

He found that the martial arts he was proud of was restricted everywhere by Chen Qingfeng's palm technique, which seemed simple and unpretentious but actually contained the ultimate principles of heaven and earth, as if it was stuck in a quagmire.

The opponent's spiritual power was much stronger than he had expected. Every collision made his arms numb and his blood churn.

"You...how did you become so strong?" The red-robed Holy Son cried out in shock, fear rising in his heart for the first time.

He never dreamed that the "mortal" who needed a woman's protection twenty years ago had grown to such a terrifying level.

Chen Qingfeng's eyes were sharp, and his palm power increased instead of decreasing, like a raging storm, each wave stronger than the last.

"No one will wait for you here. You must know that there are always people who are better than you. Today is the day you pay the price for your years of evil deeds!"

Before he finished speaking, Chen Qingfeng's palm technique suddenly changed, simplifying it and pushing out with one palm.

This palm seemed slow, but it seemed to have condensed a thousand pounds of strength, blocking all the retreat routes of the Red Robe Saint. Before the palm wind arrived, the terrifying oppressive feeling had already made it difficult for him to breathe.