My Crown Prince Consort Is a Firecracker!

Chapter 2800: Misunderstanding!

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2800 Misunderstanding!

She gazed at the diminutive figure with a stoic and expressionless petite face, encased within a transparent chicken eggshell and cradled in Feng Chen’s quilted arms. The sight before her was nothing short of comical.

Suppressing his amusement, Mo Lian reached out to take the eggshell. At that moment, the little fellow’s entire body was confined within the spherical shell, rendering her unable to grasp anything firmly.

Surveying her situation, she undid her defensive barrier with a dispassionate expression before gracefully leaping out.

Duan Yue would have bet his head that if anyone dared to flash a smirk at this very instant, Her Excellency Lady Qiaoqiao would undoubtedly wield her washboard for a thorough reprimand.

Unexpectedly, the intervention of the quilt had saved that young lad from the barbarian tribes. He had been on the brink of destruction from the thunderbolts, but someone, in silence, had whisked him away using a quilt.

When Qiao Mu glanced back, the lad had already made his escape. Consequently, she could only grudgingly feed an elixir to the sand scorpion and recall it to Shaji Planet.

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The onlookers assumed that the young lady had merely summoned her spiritual beast back into its dimension.

Yun Piaomiao let out a faint sigh of relief and her expression returned to its somber state. She fixed a sharp glare upon the Holy Son of the Lunisolar Shrine, who had arrived in a white robe. “Holy Son Miyan, you’ve come from a distant place, and our academy should have extended a warm welcome. However, you have suddenly attacked a student from our academy, which is utterly inexcusable, isn’t it?”

The Sacred Son, Miyan, cast a cold glance over Mo Lian, Duan Yue, and the others. Eventually, his gaze settled on a slender man who was smiling while waving a handful of pink peach-blossom fans.

A trace of harshness flitted through the depths of her eyes.

/This young man was actually a Venerable Immortal??/

/How was this possible!/

There were only a few Venerable Immortal Realm cultivators on the Divine Province Continent. When had such a youthful Venerable Immortal emerged? Why was this information unknown to him?

/Shouldn’t a Venerable Immortal ascend and depart from this realm?/

/What had gone awry with the restrictions imposed by Heavenly Law?/

Why did these checks and balances not apply to this particular Venerable Immortal?

If Feng Chen could hear the thoughts of the person in question, he would likely infuriate them further and casually respond, “This Venerable One has already endured a stint in the Punishment Tower. What more could there be? If necessary, I’ll capture this Venerable One again and revisit the tower!”

“It’s a misunderstanding,” Miyan said casually, nodding apologetically at Dean Yun.

Her Excellency Lady Qiaoqiao forcefully tugged on Mo Lian’s sleeve.

Without hesitation, Crown Prince Mo’s eyes flashed with determination, and a fierce gust of wind, infused with tens of thousands of sacred energies, surged toward the Holy Son’s face.

Simultaneously, Qiao Mu raised her hand and unleashed a barrage of several hundred icicles at the Holy Son.

Caught off guard, the Holy Son hastily evaded twice. He managed to dodge Qiao Mu’s icicles with ease, but he had no choice but to furrow his brow and take Mo Lian’s punch head-on.

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He crossed his arms in front of him, confident that the sacred armor wrist guard generated on his arm would deflect the incoming attack.

To his surprise, the wind from Mo Lian’s fist struck him forcefully, pushing him back several steps. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

Shock filled his eyes.

As the Holy Son raised his head to confront Mo Lian, another ferocious surge of sacred energy shot out from the side, homing in on his face once again.

/Damn it!/

/Resist the urge to strike people in the face. It seemed like everyone was lining up to take a swipe at him!/

Gritting his teeth, the Holy Son braced himself against Duan Yue’s assault. In the following moment, a sly and acerbic illusion of sacred energy materialized into the form of five fingers.

A resounding slap struck his cheek.

The normally stoic young woman felt a sense of satisfaction. Before the Holy Son could erupt in anger, she spoke with icy detachment, “This, too, is a misunderstanding.”

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