Chapter 36: Last Night, I Got Drunk and Lost Control

A first love that would never return. She died that midsummer night—severe depression, a suicide.

When she woke, her whole body ached, as if her limbs had been run over by a carriage wheel and pieced back together. Her exposed calves and collarbone were marked all over with bruises and kisses.

“Keep calling out,” the man had whispered seductively the night before.

By then, her voice was already hoarse...

And he, Mo Langyue, seemed to be nothing more than food sent to her. More absurd still, he had bathed and cleaned himself early, waiting to be devoured.

Not to mention the procurement of these items—for with Murong Xianzhi’s immense wealth, his household likely had everything already prepared—but simply the act of cooking, many things required so much time and effort!

“Mengde!” Chen Gong, who stood aside, could bear it no longer. After all, he had abandoned his post and fled for this man. Though he disapproved of his rash decision to end Lü Boshe’s family, he could not possibly watch him die before his eyes.

Shocked, Xiao Kaiyang could not help but sigh. His opponent truly was a promising seedling. What a pity he had encountered him—just a matter of ill fate.

A series of murmured voices echoed in the space, and a brilliant golden light burst from the glowing sphere, piercing the black void. At once, the ape spirit felt an illusion—the darkness around seemed to shrink back.

In ancient China, especially in times of war, the amount of food you possessed determined the number of troops you could command.

“This...” Zhang Qingyuan was taken aback and asked tentatively, “Your Majesty refers to Princess Mingzhu of the Black Jade Kingdom?” Could it be that this young emperor had set his eyes on the Black Jade King’s cherished daughter?

“Find out!” Situ Haoyu kicked the wall beside the door, leaving a deep footprint.

Xie Bi cast a swift glance, but before he could see clearly who had arrived, a fierce gust lashed his face, sharp as a blade. Xie Bi’s martial arts were peerless, his courage high; he cared nothing for the intruder. He stilled himself, quietly circulating his inner strength as protection.

Murong Qingyu was filled with resentment, yet the poison within her had already begun to take effect. Agonizing pain twisted in her chest, and she could not utter a complete sentence. A fine sheen of cold sweat broke out over her body.

As the final ten were determined, the grand elder outside learned the circumstances from those who had been eliminated.

“So long as there is the slightest hope, we healers will never give up easily. Let us first find Miao Xiuxiu’s blood,” judged Ruoxi, offering the most impartial advice she could.

Within the palace there was naturally a temple, and inside it, the Bodhisattvas were enshrined. It was a hodgepodge of a temple, with Water-Moon Guanyin, Basket-Carrying Guanyin, Child-Bestowing Guanyin, and others.

Hearing this, Chen Jintong steadied herself and wrote four characters on the paper: “Gallop across the land.” Each word might seem ordinary alone, but together, they exuded the grandeur of iron cavalry and clashing spears.

Tian Zao neatly aligned the fabric on the worktable, took a ruler to measure and mark, then snipped the cloth with tailor’s shears. She rolled the leftover fabric and returned it to the storeroom, then went back to continue working at the table.

Yet, in the days that followed, her once cold-hearted lover reappeared in her life again and again—in the Hengyue Sect, in the Ghost Market, and now, unexpectedly, here.

It was as if he were a hopeless patient, and Chen Jintong, the bitter medicine that could heal him. As if he were an addict, and Chen Jintong the hallucinogen. In truth, the feeling was mutual—the need in Chen Jintong’s heart was identical to the sensation she brought to Dongfang Xuanzhe.

Also present were a dozen or so young men, the remaining villagers whom Ping Ba could not persuade, no matter what, to join the fight against the bandits.

For a soul master, being unable to use soul power was no different from being crippled. Fortunately, Wan Fang was only temporarily unable to use his soul power—not forever.