On a half-moon-shaped island in the vast Pacific Ocean, stands a vast and stately palace complex consisting of Gothic-style palaces, patchwork courtyards and sumptuous gardens. The light, shadow, color, and layout of all the buildings are perfectly integrated with the surrounding nature, forming a palace complex that is both mysterious and beautiful.

Passing through the courtyard of seventy-two huge granite wind and fire beasts spraying water, to the main hall, the top sat on the north and south side of a huge and majestic jade dragon chair, on which sat an elderly man who looked to be nearly sixty years old, thin, gray hair, but with a straight waist, eyes like torches, and a dark green jade crown on his head, which was inlaid with red and sapphires.

His Highness stood two men, one of whom was about thirty years old, wearing a black slim shirt and trousers, and was tall and majestic. The smooth and fair face, the angular-edged cold handsomeness, the eyebrows are like swords, and a pair of dark and deep eyes are incomprehensible, but fortunately, he wears a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, which covers up his seven-point evil charm, adding a very bookish anger, which makes people think of the four words of politeness. He is a man with the royal blood of the Jiuli clan - Tang Liren, and at this moment he is quietly standing in front of this majestic elder with his hands down.

Another man was about forty years old, wearing a white tunic suit, with a round face and a slightly chubby face, and a figure of one meter seven, standing in front of the elder with a smile, and said softly: "Father, this time Jiangbei missed, the responsibility is not on the seventh brother, he has done his best." ”

The elder was silent, his face was still solemn and calm, and the man in white continued: "Now that the tenth sister is in Jiangbei, she will definitely return with the treasure, please rest assured that my father and the prince will do their best to assist the tenth sister!"

The elder muttered, "Tang Liren, do you have anything to say?"

Tang Liren replied with an indifferent expression: "The lord's intention is in Jiangbei, and his subordinates have not completed the task, it is all up to them!"

The elder snorted coldly: "Okay! Then you will be punished with 10 Nine Dragon Whips to set an example!"

"Thank you, lord!" Tang Liren said.

The man in white glanced meaningfully at Tang Liren's resolute back.

Late at night, on the edge of a huge blue swimming pool, a man with a naked and athletic upper body plunged into it, swimming up, red blood from the wound on his back to spread, forming strange red marks in the blue pool water. He didn't seem to feel the pain, and swam quickly in the pool like a fish, his two strong arms fighting a series of splashes, and struggling forward, as if to break free from all the shackles in his heart.

He has been said by everyone since he was a child that he has noble royal blood flowing in his body, his father has a total of ten children, four boys and six girls, he ranks seventh, as the third son of his father, it stands to reason that he is a well-deserved son of heaven, but he has never experienced a little happiness. His esteemed father looked at him as indifferent as an iceberg, and he didn't understand why. Until one day he heard his brothers and sisters secretly laughing at him and calling him a mongrel. He was only six years old, and he didn't know what that meant, and he went to ask the servants who were taking care of him, but no one dared to tell him, just the mysterious glances of the gods. He asked the question tightly, and several of the attendants around the queen told him that only his father could tell him the answer. So one day, when he saw his father, who had always been indifferent to him, playing lovingly with his brothers and sisters, he ran over like a nightmare, grabbed him by the corner of his coat and asked, "Father, what is a bastard?"

He would never forget those furious eyes, as if the flames were about to consume him completely. It was the first time he had been given the Nine Dragons Whip by his father, a long whip forged from dark iron, and the average mortal only needed to endure ten strokes to break his spine and die. After that, the man forbade him to call him his father, and at the age of six, he was soon sent out of the palace and into a secret base of terror, full of extreme training and challenges, full of endless falsehood and betrayal, full of the most ruthless blood and death. There he learned what survival of the fittest is, survival of the fittest, and what the strong are. Being cold-blooded became his destined label, just like his father.