Chapter 46

The middle-aged woman gazed at Lu Siyen, her eyes brimming with adoration, but the moment Lu Siyen noticed, his expression fell, and he hurried to catch up with Shen Tianjiao.

Who was secretly plotting against her? She had not yet untangled the web of this incident when Ji Weixiao presented her with another dilemma.

Peng Cheng buried his face in his hands, rubbing back and forth as if to tear off a mask. The lingering fear still gripped him—his hands pressed against his forehead, his mind scrambled like a shaken egg, clarity lost.

I nodded in agreement with what Yuezi said and hurried back to the village, intending to discuss things with Hong Tianlei. Yet, to my surprise, Hong Tianlei, having heard from someone that the matter might require a yin-yang master, had already left for the city to find one.

Blue light shimmered on the longsword, like a flame descending from the sky, its force utterly unstoppable.

“Taoist, let me be frank: even if you don’t care, do you think Gan Nineteen cares?” Xue Lianguai sneered at me, his eyes sharp.

Mu Fan’s dark eyes were fixed on Guan Muxi’s phone, as if he would bore a hole right through it.

The moment Xue Lianguai finished speaking, his face flushed red, as though blood were rushing to his head. At that moment, the seven statues around the Three Kings’ Fortress began to respond, making Xue Lianguai grit his teeth, veins bulging.

As it turned out, Song Jin not only failed to restrain herself, but in high spirits, pointed them enthusiastically to the exact location of the cloakroom.

He Ning didn’t even bother to ask but snatched the medical records from Song Jin’s hands, domineering to the extreme. Song Jin’s eyes grew a little cold, but she said nothing.

As the young man approached, the surrounding martial artists halted as well. Clearly, they all recognized this youth.

The Arrow of Flame was successfully blocked by Yiyuetian, but the ensuing explosion still dealt him dozens of points of damage, his magical shield trembling violently.

Inside the inn, Chen Fei overheard the murmurs of the two men. He could only sigh at Chen Hu’s character—though exasperating, his frankness as a brother was also comforting and moving. Even though his cultivation was insufficient, he never forgot his own vendetta.

“Hmph…” Momentary carelessness had let the enemy gain the upper hand. If he dared come out to fight, he would never return alive. Did he not believe his lair could be destroyed right now to force him out?

When the Tree Spirit declared it would not intervene, everyone present felt relieved. If the elves had refused to back down, even possessing the Spirit Pearl would have brought little benefit—this outcome was far better.

“You… When did you take it? Damnable human, seeking death!” Dragonbone, seemingly unaware that the box inside him was gone, glanced at his hollow heart and roared in fury at Weiwei.

Bu Hui was momentarily stunned upon seeing the ring’s attributes—it was as if it had been custom-made for him. Yet he hesitated and did not accept it.

“Talking to that Yang Xudong guy?” Zhao Na asked, tidying the table as she came out of the restroom.

Most of the valley had collapsed; it looked eerie and unsettling. Severely injured and unable to use light-footwork, Situ Chenyu could only struggle forward among the rubble, each step more difficult than the last.

Da Wuhui cursed inwardly at the words, his smile nearly vanishing. From the tone of Horse-face, it was clear something was expected of him.

“Hahaha, so you’ve found me!” A chilling voice came from behind. In the next instant, a figure cloaked in black, his face shrouded by a thick black cloth, appeared behind Zhu Xiao and his party.

“Yes, I’m Li Siliang’s sworn sister,” the constable replied without much care, parched from the journey and grateful for a place to rest.

Even in the mid-Ming Dynasty, the forest villagers led lives almost identical to those centuries before. Occasionally, goods from the Central Plains would make their way into the tribes, but little else had changed.

The moment Qi Fei entered the cave, the light dimmed. Having suffered so long from the glare outside, his eyes finally found comfort, and his whole body felt relief.

Wu Zhi could only laugh wryly: a famed imperial guard, now brawling with servants whose skills were no better than ruffians—he truly was a most unfortunate prince.

Mo Rigen sensed something was off with Yisima today, but could not bring himself to ask directly. He could only ponder in silence, but no answer came.

If he let these people go, he himself would surely die. Qingger Tai’s words had given them a reason to fight to the death. Once their formation stabilized, the three thousand warriors unleashed their full might.

Song Boyu now realized what his hands had just touched—his eyes involuntarily darted to Luo Shujiao’s police uniform, stretched to its limits by her ample curves, and then back to his own hands, as if recalling the pleasant sensation.

“Greetings, First Lady! Greetings, Second Lady! Greetings, Third Lady!” The timid voice of Zhu’er startled the two women back to themselves. Across from them, Qiqiao and Li Xuanjing both blushed a deep red.

In the dean’s office, Baron unrolled a scroll of magic, quietly studying its intricate patterns. As a scrollmaker and a fourth-tier mage, Baron had achieved intermediate mastery in scrollcraft and was now able to craft fire magic scrolls.

He had never imagined that the usually aloof Long Xinyue, when she blossomed, could be so beautiful. Deep in his heart, Chu He vowed to cherish her, especially since she had already given him everything, holding nothing back.

Everyone froze, then in unison turned to Han Xin: Wasn’t your greatest enemy the very same?