Chapter 42: Exposing the Motive

“There’s been a minor situation here, but it’s not too serious. Head to the Academy of Sciences immediately, and remember—not a single person inside is to be released,” he urged anxiously.

The Academy of Sciences held records on Ren Bifeng. If that information were ever to leak, his mother back in the Kingdom of Ye would be in danger.

And furthermore...

Shirou Emiya looked at him as if he were a fool, his expression conflicted, feeling deeply that he was wasting his time.

Outside Demon Burial Valley, the mist dispersed, revealing a massive chasm in the ground that led directly into the valley’s depths.

He willed it, and a purple Divine Access Pill materialized in his right hand. Without hesitation, he swallowed it.

“This is a specially made temporary storage space. You can plant medicinal herbs here for up to three days, after which it will collapse,” Luoshen explained to Yang Tian. Such objects were difficult to craft and single-use only—something really only used by those from the Valley of Spiritual Herbs, whose livelihood depended on cultivating rare plants.

The painted marionette grew even more distraught, collapsing onto the ground with a wail, flailing its limbs. Of course, it could only mimic the sound of crying.

“This is Pre-Rain Dao Tea. A single tea bush yields just one ounce every three years. I’ve spent a decade cultivating it,” Xu Ying said softly, her slender hands preparing the tea, her smile gentle and her tone light as a breeze.

Marmot fixed Ling Qi with a dissatisfied stare, trying to convey his displeasure. After all, he was nominally the master of Julia Star; he shouldn’t be subjected to such “mockery.”

Beiju Luzhou was nothing more than a frozen land of eternal slumber. It was said that the remnants of ancient clans, survivors of several cataclysms, had hidden in its depths, lingering on in this true no-man’s land.

The mushroom cloud outside had yet to settle, and many mechanical warriors were already moving toward the city walls. Michael took it upon himself to maintain order within the city—though perhaps it was simply an excuse to indulge his lust for carnage.

As the conversation continued, Fang Heng turned his head. He stopped looking at Lin Qingyuan and instead focused on the sword marks and fist imprints on the mountainside.

Zhang Lianbi spoke as she forcefully drew her longsword and swung it once more at the King’s neck. A spatter of fresh blood landed across her face.

It was six o’clock when he left the noodle shop. In City R, September still felt like summer—clear air, refreshing breeze, long days and short nights. It was too early to return to the hotel, so he asked a passerby for directions to the sea and set off straight for the shore.

Well, it probably wasn’t anything important. After a moment’s hesitation, Su Nuan tossed aside the faint sense of unease and stopped worrying. Yet, beside her, Leng Ye keenly noticed Su Nuan’s brief distraction.

Crash! The piercing sound of porcelain smashing to the floor startled everyone—Meng Fei had broken another dish.

Fine, yesterday’s life-or-death duel was supposed to be a test. Frankly, although both of them held back enough to avoid true fatality, the fight still felt dangerously real. This left Shui Han quietly simmering with anger.

Someone so mysterious, so composed, and yet present on this train was unlikely to be ordinary. It’s the same principle: officials love parading about, but there are always emperors who prefer to travel incognito.

Ding Yue leaned against Ramos, straining against the force pushing him forward. His hands, mirroring his opponent’s, tugged at each other’s jerseys as he watched the descending ball from the corner of his eye.

Lin Guozi squeezed Zhu Zhu’s hand as they headed upstairs. “Come, nap with me.” Zhu Zhu followed, head lowered, cheeks flushed.

Su Nuan nearly choked on her last bite of breakfast upon hearing that. Dressing this morning had been pure habit—she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to go to Leng Ye’s company today! With that realization, she rushed back to her room.

Feng Qianxun patted Di Sha on the shoulder and eyed the blood streaming down his hand, unable to suppress a sense of defeat. Di Sha, however, remained silent. For a man, such an injury was nothing at all.