About eleven hours had passed since Wu Wang and the Martial God were surrounded in the tavern.
For some reason, the Goddess of Mingqing felt a little irritated.
She sat on her lavishly ornate throne, watching the multitudes of Priests prostrate below. Suddenly, a look of disgust flashed across her eyes, and she waved her hand lightly.
The crowd below fell silent and dispersed like the tide in all directions, retreating into the shadowy corridors.
The entire process was seamless, as if the retreat of those shadowy figures had been rehearsed thousands of times.
When the hall was empty, the Goddess of Mingqing slowly rose. Her figure drifted towards the corner shrouded in curtains, her clothes naturally falling away. She did not enjoy wearing clothes. After all, she felt that garments were merely encumbrances. As an Innate God, she was the very essence of this world and the Great Dao, so why hide her form? Those ants who saw her could simply be killed.
