Chapter 40: The Mysterious Stranger Delivers Dumplings

A large pheasant lay right before Zhong Zhicheng’s eyes. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but when he opened them again, the bird had not vanished. Suddenly, he rushed out the door in a flurry.

When he returned, he was carrying a basin of hot water and a kitchen knife.

Zhong Zhicheng shouted, “Quick, quick! We’re having a feast tonight; we’ve finally managed to get our hands on a pheasant.”

Fang Bosong handed him the bird, and the two of them slit its throat and drained the blood inside the house before proceeding to…

Shen Yinghuan and her companions, who had arrived on the back of a phoenix to offer help, witnessed Wuhuan falling from the sky and crashing violently into the ground just as they drew near.

Knowing that Lu Qingcao was in urgent need of pickles, she circled the pickle jars and spat into each one.

The grim, ghostly aura turned the mine shaft as dark as ink. A chilling sensation, like a frigid current, flowed through the tunnels; an ordinary Earth Martial Realm cultivator would likely be frozen to death if they stepped inside, and even those at the Heaven Martial Realm would struggle to withstand it.

“Siqiao, I suddenly feel very tired,” the Great Master said, lifting his head. His face was deathly pale, yet his eyes still shimmered with a certain spark.

There are those who refuse to live in decay and ignorance, who refuse to dwell among withered trees and dead grass. A beacon has been lit in this world, and beneath its light, the brilliance of rebirth can be seen everywhere.

When the heavy blade struck before Feng Teng, several streaks of ink-blue ethereal light flashed from his body. Under the influence of some unknown force, the momentum of the blow was dissipated by nearly half. Fortunately, Tang Yun had put his full strength into the strike, and the blade, its momentum unbroken, still managed to carve a palm-wide wound into his shoulder.

This behavior was strikingly similar to how deities in ancient fantasy legends would drip blood onto magical artifacts to claim ownership. Regardless of whether such an act was convenient or overly steeped in fantastical romanticism, it was, at the very least, highly effective.

The ancient trees trembled and their branches rustled. The leaves, once vibrant and lush, withered and turned yellow in an instant, their life force draining away until they crumbled into dust.

Wei Fu endured her urging, his lips pressed tightly shut, the corners of his mouth drooping, his Adam's apple bobbing as he remained silent.

“Mother, will we have nothing to eat?” Lu Erli, standing to the side, watched her mother’s solemn expression and could not help but ask.

For Xiang Yun, who had always firmly believed in materialism, she would never have believed in healing through spiritual power in the past; she might even have called the police to report these swindlers.

Written on it were only a few simple characters: The reeds are deep and dense, the white dew turns to frost; the one I long for is on the other side of the water.

Sophie slowly washed her hands and touched up her makeup, imagining Qin An’an being embarrassed and harassed by the waiter. She planned to step out at the critical moment and pay the bill with casual indifference, just to see how Qin An’an would hold her head up.

Before Shen Shiyao could finish speaking, Huo Qiyan had already written the words "not going" on a piece of paper and pushed it toward Mo Yan.

Zhao Kuo’s emotions shifted from annoyance to shame, and finally to helplessness as he listened to the curses of the people—every expression was captured by Xiang Yun.

Just as Suda Er Tie returned to Shi Le’s camp, another letter was delivered.

It was also at this moment that the Primeval Lord of Heaven heard his master, Zhang Yifan, look up at the sky and mutter in frustration: “What the hell is this weather? Why is there sudden thunder, lightning, heavy rain, and snow? I’m soaked to the bone.”

Had it not been for the brand recognition my mother built up back then, the products designed by the new designer would never have lasted this long.

Lin Yazhi saw the old man and was about to push Lin Jundu toward him when she caught the old man casting a warning glance and a subtle signal in her direction.

Lin Laosan and Song Yin felt their spines stiffen simultaneously; they did not even know which one of them the Tatars were referring to as "Old Ding."

On a desolate hillside, Su Wei held a torch, searching everywhere for the trees marked with signs. However, visibility at night was poor, and since they were not as familiar with the terrain as Li Yadong, who had traveled back and forth several times, the search proved incredibly difficult, with Tao Lu constantly trying to persuade her otherwise.