Only three seconds? He's already the Lord of All Realms, so it doesn't matter.

Forced back to the edge of the wasteland by the heavenly lightning, Fu Tianliu was still in shock and could only watch helplessly as the people from Hongtian Escort Agency slipped away from him.

He dared not chase after it. Fu Tianliu was certain that the sudden thunderbolt was the power of the Thunder-Summoning Finger.

He still doesn't believe that in this world where martial arts reign supreme, there is any such thing as a Heavenly Dao.

If there truly is a Heavenly Order, then I would have been struck by lightning long ago!

This clearly indicates that a master was hiding in the shadows, manipulating the heavenly lightning to precisely force himself out of the wasteland while protecting Hong Zhentian.

But when he looked up at the sky, he couldn't find a single thundercloud, not even on this barren wasteland or in the surrounding fields.

Fu Tianliu had been wandering the martial world for many years and had never heard of anyone who could master the Thunder-Summoning Finger technique to such a degree.

This person can summon heavenly lightning at will within a radius of at least a hundred miles, so their skill level is definitely above mine.

However, Fu Tianliu's martial arts have already reached the half-step peak; above him, apart from true peak martial artists...

Who exactly is this mastermind behind the scenes?

Thinking of this, no matter how unwilling Fu Tianliu was, he could only sigh helplessly.

The gap between him and a peak martial artist is much greater than the gap between Hong Zhentian and a half-step top-tier martial artist.

With a powerful figure protecting him, Hongtian Escort Agency had no choice but to accept defeat this time.

On the other hand, Ye Xuan, who had returned to Dongting Lake, was also struck as if by a bolt from the blue.

He watched as the spiritual energy substitute he had painstakingly condensed shattered.

Yes, it's broken.

The stand-in, originally formed from the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and already taking shape with distinct features, shattered into pieces of cyan spiritual energy, scattered all over the ground.

As his consciousness returned to reality, Ye Xuan felt his increasingly realistic body and was somewhat bewildered.

Could it be that I was distracted when I made the move?

He unconsciously shook his head. Before making his move, he had specifically used his ability to foresee the future to explore Dongting Lake.

When the spiritual substitute first takes on human form, it is already able to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth on its own. However, due to distraction, the subsequent supply is insufficient, making it completely impossible.

"Her superpowers broke?"

Ye Xuan grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it away, his ability to foresee the future acting on the pillow.

……

Three seconds later, it was proven that his superpowers were not abnormal; he had already known the trajectory of the pillow in mid-air, as well as its final landing point and shape, three seconds earlier.

However, the spiritual substitute in the martial arts world was indeed shattered.

Ye Xuan didn't understand.

Perception soared through the clouds once more, reaching the transit station that could cause confusion in consciousness.

This time he didn't go to the martial arts world. In the past few days, due to the continuous evolution of his superpowers, Ye Xuan seemed to have gotten used to the feeling of controlling everything. As for the sudden situation just now, he didn't think it was a bad thing.

The alarm bells rang, perhaps it was instinct to protect him, who knows? Anyway, once that kind of spiritual energy substitute is gone, it can be reconstituted.

He gathered his thoughts and re-examined the threads that lingered around his consciousness.

Grasping one of them, Ye Xuan felt no sense of crisis; he hoped this would be a world of cultivation.

Having cultivated spiritual power for so long, he still doesn't know what level his cultivation is at.

As for the martial arts world, spiritual power is a form of dimensional reduction. Although his body is weak and frail, his ability to utilize his strength alone has reached a level comparable to that of a top-tier martial artist.

"..."

Perception follows the thread grasped by consciousness, probing deeper, and unfamiliar images emerge in the mind:

The winter sky was filled with low-hanging leaden clouds, and the air was bitterly cold.

The snowflakes, like goose feathers, drifted down and covered the ancient capital, adding a layer of silver-gray to its landscape.

At the heart of the capital city stands a magnificent palace; seeing it in person allows one to truly appreciate its grandeur.

This is Chang'an, the capital of the Western Han Dynasty, and that magnificent palace is Weiyang Palace.

Outside the front hall of Weiyang Palace, tall crane-shaped bronze lamps are lined up, with bright candles burning inside, illuminating the front hall as if it were daytime.

The candlelight flickered in the wind, casting shadows that danced violently on the carved wood adorned with auspicious clouds and mythical beasts.

Inside the hall, civil and military officials had already arrived, standing on both sides according to their respective ranks, but the atmosphere was deathly silent.

All eyes were focused on the figure in the center of the hall, dressed in a dark robe and wearing a crown with tassels.

He was Wang Mang, the famous Duke of Anhan and Regent Emperor in history, who was regarded by later generations as a time traveler who seized power.

Wang Mang's face was expressionless at this moment, with only a slight twitch at the corner of his eye.

He clutched the Imperial Seal of the State, which he had just "invited" from the Empress Dowager, tightly in his hand. The cold touch of the seal made his eyes even more resolute.

Just then, a long, drawn-out announcement came from outside the hall: "The auspicious time has arrived—"

The announcement broke the oppressive silence in the palace. Wang Mang slowly turned around, took a step, and walked towards one of the tutors beside the current Empress Dowager.

His gaze remained fixed on the infant Liu Ying, whom he had personally appointed as Crown Prince. Liu Ying was only two years old.

When Wang Mang arrived in front of Liu Ying, the innocent child was frightened by the commotion and his eyes were filled with tears. His little hands were flailing wildly in the air, not knowing what to do with them.

His trembling right hand gently grasped those two small, fair hands, and he sighed:

"Alas, how tragic!"

Wang Mang's voice echoed in front of the palace, his tone slightly choked, as if he were lamenting the Western Han dynasty that had lasted for hundreds of years.

"In the past, when the Duke of Zhou was regent, he eventually restored the throne to his son, Ming, and returned power to King Cheng. His virtue was magnificent, and I have always admired him."

"But now, Heaven has bestowed its mandate upon me, and I am entrusted with this task. I am truly compelled by Heaven's will and have no choice but to comply with the Way of Heaven. How painful this pain is in my heart!"

Wang Mang's words were so sincere and heartfelt, a true expression of his feelings.

It was as if he was not the powerful minister who had long coveted the throne, but a saint who was forcibly pushed onto the throne by Heaven and had no choice but to bear the mandate of Heaven.

However, the so-called divine mandate was nothing more than a play he directed and staged for the world to see.

During his regency, he arranged for people to throw white stones into wells with red characters engraved on them that read "Announce that Anhan Gong Wang is the Emperor." Afterwards, he spread rumors among the people that "the regent emperor is real"...

Ye Xuan quietly observed the succession to the throne, watching Wang Mang straighten his clothes and climb the steps again.

With each step he took, he firmly trod upon the vermilion steps that symbolized imperial power, and soon he reached the very front of the main hall.

Less than half a foot in front of him was the spot he had longed for for many years, the place he had dreamed of.

Perhaps at this moment, Wang Mang is recalling the events of these past years—

He was known for his frugality and respect in his early years, being filial to his mother and courteous to scholars. He even drove his own son to suicide, all in order to establish a saintly moral image.

After entering officialdom and experiencing the change of the throne, he regained power and revealed his ambition, beginning to gradually eliminate his opponents.

All his subsequent actions—adding the title "Duke of Anhan," assuming the title of "Regent Emperor," and forging the Mandate of Heaven—were all for this very moment.

I work harder than anyone else in the current regime, I use any means necessary, and I am more patient than anyone else; I forced my own children to their deaths, fabricated a destiny... So why can't I succeed?

"Your subject, Wang Mang, receives the Mandate of Heaven!"

He straightened up, took the twelve-tassel crown symbolizing the emperor's supreme status from the attendant, and put it on his own head.

Someone in the court shouted, "Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!"

Immediately afterwards, all the civil and military officials, whether they liked it or not, knelt down and shouted "Long live the new emperor!"

Wang Mang, high above, basked in the tsunami of cheers. He raised his hand to silence his ministers, his voice booming and clear:

"I, by the mandate of Heaven, hereby establish the nation's name as 'New' and change the era name to 'Founding of the Nation'!"