Chapter 108

On the fifteenth day it was called “Wang,” and on the sixteenth “Ji Wang.” Today being Ji Wang, His Highness the Crown Prince arrived early at the Plum-Leaning Courtyard, moving as if no one else were present. Biyu inwardly scorned him: usually, the Crown Prince would sneak in only at bedtime, but today, before dinner had even begun, he came openly and boldly.

He carefully uncrumpled the parchment, slowly unfolding it, wary that its poor quality might cause it to tear.

Ye Xing was unaware that Zhou Lengxuan had already learned some information about him, but even if she did know, it did not bother him.

Yet, a faint unease lingered in his heart, a subtle and inexplicable sense of crisis that could not be dispelled quickly. That mysterious threat from the depths of his soul quietly hovered.

It wasn’t that she was deliberately blocking the excuse fabricated by Liang Boyuan; she genuinely had matters to attend to. Of course, even if she were free, she might still refuse him—there was simply no need.

This young master had suffered from a chronic illness since childhood. The medical clinic had exhausted all remedies, yet they dared not refuse for fear of offending the prefect.

They then proceeded to march along a different route. Half a day later, scouts suddenly reported signs of Shu army movement near Luofeng Slope. Pang Tong’s heart pounded with dread. Had he not inquired about Luofeng Slope and taken the alternate path directly, he would surely have fallen into Zhuge Liang’s ambush.

Because once a soldier is discovered outside, everyone calls for his capture—after all, no one wishes to be inexplicably poisoned or cursed, conditions for which there is no cure.

This time, Zhao Mocheng spoke first, his words immediately striking Qin Dahu with a strong sense of intimidation.

“What is it?” Ye Ziyu, caught off guard, looked at Lin Xiangnan’s dark, somber face and blinked in confusion.

Yang Dayan’s once rosy face suddenly turned pale; his eyes glazed over as he stood there dazed, speechless.

Crossing valleys, traversing plains, drifting over grasslands, and crossing rivers, she wandered until she arrived at a courtyard blooming with yellow spring flowers.

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Long Suan heard that Meng Qi was participating in the selection tournament. He paused briefly but then laughed aloud. Actually, even if Meng Qi were to join the Ten Thousand Demons Assembly, it was impossible for Long Xiaotian’s position to be directly handed over to Meng Qi.

Zhuang Feng’s decision was also within Xiao Yu’s expectations; or rather, it was part of the tasks Xiao Yu handled after accompanying Zhuang Feng to Jiangzhou. Now, Xiao Yu was adept at handling the company’s affairs and did not find anything odd about Zhuang Feng’s remark—wasn’t it just an added trivial responsibility?

Meng Qi raised his head, only to witness the moment the spirit lamp belonging to Hu Xian’er flickered out.

Today marked the final deadline of the Ghost Contract. Suo Lang was uneasy, having spent the entire night awake. The unfolding situation showed no signs of control; feeling manipulated by fate, he sank into an agonizing wait.

Du Tianheng was so startled by the sound that his heart nearly stopped. Only now did he realize it was indeed a trap, designed merely to lure him out before striking from behind. Yet, ironically, it was his own Jin Yi Wei from Wuji Camp who died, while Tong Niuer’s Zhu Que Camp survived—contrary to what he had imagined. What was to be done?

That evening, the group dined and chatted. Although the inn buzzed with noise, it did not diminish their longing for the sea. Among them, Master Zhou and Master Fan had ventured out twice before, while the others were first-timers, their curiosity about the vast ocean tinged with eager anticipation.

Since her home was far from the village, Lv Ziqi, holding a torch, leisurely walked back with Chun Cao. Chun Cao pouted silently, feeling uneasy about letting Li San off so easily.

I don’t understand the old man’s meaning—pinching his thumb and forefinger together, the message was simple, wasn’t it? He just wanted money.

Back home, Guo Fei temporarily took leave of Aili. He had not returned for several days. Though reluctant, Aili was sensible and did not insist on keeping him.

Indeed, since the video went viral, Han Li noticed that some students at school often pointed fingers at him. Yet, some familiar classmates came over to congratulate him.

“Hmph! Bullying the powerless!” Guo Fei cursed. After the others left, he started the car and drove toward his home.

Lin Chen might not have realized it himself, but within just five days, his attitude toward the audience had changed dramatically. Where once he regarded them as friends and equals, now...

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This arrangement gave each person their own independent space, preventing conflicts and quarrels over territory and position as had occurred before.

His opponent’s strength truly surpassed his, and they did not resort to trickery or deceit. Instead, they would confront him head-on—after all, their goal was never to kill him but to keep him trapped and immobilized.

However, all these shikigami were layered with seals, just like Lv Hanyang’s flying sword. The most special, Yukihime, though able to unseal at the start, was far from the Japanese mainland, drifting over the distant Sea of Okhotsk.

Around six o’clock, while most were still asleep, he had assumed the livestream would attract only one or two thousand viewers but was surprised to find the audience had soared past eighty thousand.

Calling it graduation was somewhat far-fetched; shortly after entering university, she debuted as a singer. Only after rising to the top tier did she begin preparations for graduation.

From their very first meeting, these two had been bickering, sometimes even fighting fiercely, each time leaving the other bruised and swollen.

Suddenly, the Kamikaze team members all activated their soul techniques, soaring into the air. But the soul techniques that enabled their flight were all third-tier skills.

Zang Ba and Sun Guan arrived outside the Cao army camp gate. They saw the white tents and banners fluttering in the wind, rattling softly. The dirge sounded from all directions, its mournful melody stirring tears like rain.