pjbooks Will Chapter 51 make history?
Will Chapter 51 make history?
In the past three days, this news has completely ignited the entire internet. The fact that Ye Wuhen, Zhou Tianze, and Luo Qinghe challenged the Thirteenth Apostle Hall together has not only caused a stir within the Dragon Kingdom, but has even spread overseas.
That morning, almost all the people of the Dragon Kingdom gathered in front of the Awakener's official live stream room.
This live broadcast format was carefully prepared by the Awakener Administration. They would use special crystals to ensure that the three of them could carry the live broadcast and that the scene would be presented from every angle.
In Jiangzhou, in Jiang Chen's living room, Jiang Xueqin placed breakfast on the coffee table—fried dough sticks, soy milk, and tea eggs—a full spread. But she didn't eat any herself. Instead, she sat on the sofa, her hands folded on her knees, her eyes fixed on the television screen.
Jiang Tianyi sat next to her, holding an unlit cigarette between his fingers and a remote control in his other hand. The channel was already tuned, but he still pressed the volume button a few times to make sure the sound was loud enough.
"Dad, Mom, you don't need to be so nervous." Jiang Chen leaned back on the sofa, holding a fried dough stick in his hand, chewing it slowly. "It's just watching a live stream."
Jiang Xueqin turned around and glared at him: "You child, is this some kind of 'watching a live stream'? This is Ye Wuhen! Zhou Tianze! Luo Qinghe! The three strongest people in our Dragon Kingdom are going to fight the Apostle Hall! This is a historic event!"
Jiang Chen took a bite of the fried dough stick and didn't argue.
Jiang Tianyi finally lit a cigarette, took a drag, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the living room. His eyes were fixed on the television screen, and his voice was a little hoarse: "When I was young, Ye Wuhen challenged the Apostle Hall for the first time. Back then, there was no live broadcast, only news reports. I saw that report in the factory canteen, and the title was 'The Sword Saint Returns: Humanity's Hope Remains.' That day, the whole canteen was in an uproar. Some people cried, some shouted 'Long live the Dragon Kingdom,' and some smashed enamel mugs on the table, spilling wine all over the place."
He paused, then flicked his cigarette ash.
"Thirty years have passed, and I never thought I'd see the three of them together again."
Jiang Chen looked at his father's profile without saying a word.
电视屏幕上，直播倒计时还在跳动：07:52:33、07:52:32、07:52:31。
The footage is an aerial view of the Kunlun Mountains. A drone takes in the air, showing snow-capped ridges covered in white, clouds swirling around the mountainsides, and sunlight reflecting off the snow with dazzling brilliance. The camera slowly zooms in, passing through canyons and over icefalls, finally settling on a black building.
The Thirteenth Apostle's Hall.
It was a black building with sharp angles, nestled deep in a valley between two snow-capped mountains, as if it had grown out of the rock or fallen from the sky. Its walls were neither brick nor metal, but an indescribable substance, its surface smooth as a black mirror, reflecting the surrounding snow-capped mountains and sky.
The capital city, the General Administration of Foreign Affairs, the command center.
Chu Tianxiong stood motionless in front of the holographic projection screen, his hands behind his back. On either side of him were a dozen technicians, each with a screen displaying a dense array of data—spiritual energy fluctuations, signal strength, weather conditions, and changes in the energy field surrounding the Apostle Hall.
"How's the signal in Kunlun?" Chu Tianxiong's voice was deep.
"Stable," a technician replied. "All seventeen cameras are online, and the image quality meets 4K standards. The biosensors on Ye Wuhen and the others are also functioning normally, transmitting heart rate, blood pressure, and spiritual energy consumption in real time."
Chu Tianxiong nodded, his gaze remaining fixed on the screen.
In the scene, three tents are still pitched on the rocky platform outside the Temple of the Apostles. The snowstorm has stopped, and the morning sun shines on the snow, reflecting a dazzling white light. The tent zippers are tightly closed, and the people inside cannot be seen.
"They haven't come out yet?" Chu Tianxiong asked.
"According to the plan, they will leave the tent at 7:55 and enter the Apostle's Temple at 8:00 sharp." The technician glanced at the timer. "Four minutes to go."
The command center fell silent.
Everyone stared at the screen, waiting for the three figures to appear.
Jiangzhou, Jiang Chen's home.
Jiang Chen finished his fried dough sticks and drank half a bowl of soy milk, then got up to go to the restroom. When he returned, Jiang Xueqin was still watching TV, and Jiang Tianyi had already smoked his third cigarette.
"Haven't started yet?" Jiang Chen sat back down on the sofa.
"Two minutes left." Jiang Xueqin's voice was a little tense.
On the television screen, the live broadcast switched from aerial footage to a fixed camera position. One camera was positioned about 100 meters directly opposite the entrance to the Temple of the Apostles, its lens pointed at the dark, arched entrance. Another camera, shooting from the side, clearly showed the smooth texture of the Temple of the Apostles' exterior walls and the eerie feature of not casting reflections in the sunlight.
A line of text appeared at the bottom of the screen: The Thirteenth Apostle's Hall, Kunlun Mountains, 5120 meters above sea level.
Next to the subtitles was a counter showing the number of viewers in real time, the numbers jumping at a visible speed. At this moment, the number of people watching simultaneously worldwide had exceeded 2.5 billion.
Jiang Chen looked at the number and sighed inwardly. This was the first time in human history that such a thing had been witnessed together.
On Weibo, the trending topics list is completely dominated by live streaming-related issues. Forty-three out of the top fifty are related to live streaming, and the remaining seven are celebrity gossip and news about people's livelihoods, but at this moment, no one cares about those anymore.
"One minute left!" someone shouted in the comments section.
"I'm so nervous my stomach hurts."
"Me too, my palms are all sweaty."
"Why haven't Ye Wuhen and the others come out yet?"
"Don't rush, it's not time yet."
"What if... what if they fail?"
"Shut up! Don't say things like that!"
"It's not what I want to say, it's that I'm scared. I'm really scared."
"Me too. But I can't help but watch it."
Just as countless comments filled the live stream, three figures slowly appeared in everyone's sight.
The first one to come out was Zhou Tianze.
He was shirtless, revealing his scarred body and muscular physique, his short, silver-white hair gleaming in the morning light. In his left hand, he carried two short spears, their tips crackling with electricity, while in his right hand he held a military water bottle. He tilted his head back and took a final gulp of barley wine before casually tossing the bottle into the snow.
"Let's go!" he shouted into the tent.
The second person to come out was Luo Qinghe.
She wore an ice-blue combat suit, not the long dress she wore before, but a battle outfit specially prepared for this challenge. Her long, silver-white hair was tied into a neat ponytail, revealing her fair and slender neck. Her left arm hung motionless at her side, but her steps were steady, and her eyes were cold and clear, like an ice sword drawn from its sheath.
She walked to Zhou Tianze's side, said nothing, but looked up at the spire of the Apostle Hall.
The third person to emerge was Ye Wuhen.
He wore a dark gray robe and carried a longsword without a scabbard on his back. His steps were light, almost silent on the snow. He stopped between the two men, his gaze fixed on the black building.
The three stood side by side in the snow, with snow-capped mountains behind them and the Black Apostle's Palace in front of them. The morning light shone from behind the eastern mountain ridge, casting their shadows long and thin on the snow like three black sword marks.
In the command center, Chu Tianxiong clenched his fists.
He had known these three people for thirty years and had never seen them standing together in front of the same temple of apostles.
In Jiangzhou, in Jiang Chen's living room, Jiang Xueqin's tears fell silently. She didn't know why she was crying. Perhaps it was seeing the three people standing at the foot of the snow-capped mountain and feeling their loneliness, or perhaps it was thinking about them about to enter that building from which no one had ever come out alive and feeling its tragic grandeur.
Jiang Tianyi didn't say anything, but simply stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and lit another one.
Jiang Chen stared at the screen, his expression calm. But his gaze lingered on the three people for a long time before shifting to the black building.