Chapter 88

She lacked the peculiar darkness that marked the people of the Northern Wastes—no matter how innocent they appeared, those from the North always understood calculation and cunning better than outsiders. Qin Yun swiftly teleported the ancient beast away, leaving only the Law Spirit Prince in the first layer of the Nine Suns Tower. The path ahead was muddy and uneven, wordlessly recounting its history and the stories it bore. Wuxin paused, speaking calmly, “I want to pay a visit to Chief Xia.” His tone was gentle, but still betrayed a trace of regret. Even if the path was not especially dangerous, simply being there was enough to strike terror into the hearts of those with a fear of heights.

They all knew in their hearts that Jiang Chen was aware of their intention to harm him this time; it was merely unspoken, so they hesitated, torn between choices. After complaining in a disorganized jumble, she dragged herself—with her inconveniently plastered injured leg—to wash her face, brush her teeth, and eat breakfast. Qin Yun’s gains in the Realm of Mystic Slaughter were considerable: he obtained a Bloodline Heavenly Pattern Box, and his physical body grew ever stronger. Only now did Ye Jiangchuan realize the formidable power of the Ghost Clan’s magic; even with the art of resurrection, being bound by this shackle meant certain death.

The former Buddha’s disciple had fully matured—his aura vast and boundless. Chu Yi had never witnessed such profound Buddhist presence. Meanwhile, Madam Ling wept in the prison cart, surrounded by members of the Ling clan, all words of advice forgotten. Master Ling and Fifth Master Ling, siblings of Ling Shi, showed genuine affection, their eyes now rimmed with red. Lin Qing hung her head in sorrow, remembering certain trials within the Nine Rings Array; if she had faced them alone, she would truly have been trapped. The King of Yan blocked a sword meant for the Emperor, both earning trust and clearing himself of suspicion. Most importantly, he drew everyone’s attention. When vigilance faltered, that was when the true assassin would strike.

Chu Feiyang clung desperately to his last hope, striving for recognition.

What should it feel like? Yes, comfortable. Her face was so pleasant and approachable that it filled others with an innate sense of ease. In the palace, beauties were many, each adorned with heavy makeup and meticulous refinement. She was like a dewdrop-laden flower, fresh and understated in her loveliness.

The heights were chilly; this was Xia Yu’s first time flying alone at night. The two and the beast burrowed into darkness, heading toward the Tiancheng Imperial Palace. “Ha! Blood Fiend, so even you can lose in a battle of words!” came the gleeful voice of Gu Xing from the sky.

Upon arriving at the Empress’s Yi’an Palace, Huoyan Nuanxin met the Empress, as well as Mo Ran and the Princess of Qin. At first, Nuanxin found it odd, but then realized that since Mo Ran had entered the palace, it was only proper for her to pay respects to the Empress, and the Princess of Qin had always been close to the Empress. Seeing her here was perfectly reasonable.

At the same time, it was undeniable proof to Mu Ziqian that Xiao Yunli had indeed taken her words to heart yesterday. After a brief consideration, Lu Su suddenly turned to Zhuge Liang, recalling his first words: “I am here to help you.”

He simply believed he treated her well and had made sacrifices, thus hoped for reciprocation; if not, he would grow cold and distant. Zhao Yuyu, engrossed in free-kick practice, heard cheers directed his way and looked back.

Once Mingyue finished arranging her hair, she applied a lively, youthful makeup and headed for the Imperial Garden. Today, the Emperor was far stricter than usual; she had lost count of how many times she was struck on the head that morning. Yet, half-asleep, she felt no pain.

She began to kowtow with a loud thud, startling the usually composed Chen Li into stepping back in alarm. Liu Ningyan responded and took Xu Zengshou away. There was a dedicated cycling training ground here, with various types of bicycles, including high-quality mountain bike replicas.

Human nature is inherently double-standard; beauty’s essence is simply liking and disliking on a whim, and Mu Ziqian saw through it all.

Leng Moze laughed in exasperation, “Ling Rong is getting more and more unrestrained—her true nature is showing.” Her careless words slipped out unchecked.

What did Tian Ming want with Fang He? And what was the play he said would be staged that night, the one needed for closure? What role would Fang He play in it?

Meanwhile, at the same moment, Uncle Niu the Bull Demon King was battling prehistoric beasts in the primeval layers.

There was no moon; a handful of stars scattered across the night sky. Jiang Ming lay on the lawn, counting them over and over.

A thunderous roar shook the heavens. Dust flew, sand and stones scattered, and thick black mist surged with flashes of black lightning. Fire blazed everywhere. In the distance, a massive rock was shattered into powder, as if the end of days had come.

Ascending the stone steps, Mi felt tense and anxious. She took a breath, hesitated, then timidly but crisply clapped her hands twice. As she did so, two identical sounds echoed from outside the exit.

Don’t imagine that closing a city gate is all it takes to start defending—it’s not so simple. At that moment, his handsome face, likened to jade, was as calm as the vast ocean, betraying no emotion, as if he were a statue carved from plaster.

As they were speaking, Sister Hou, a black belt in taekwondo, walked over, holding her lower back with one hand and limping.

Meng Ke shook his head, turned around, and saw the black-robed bronze staff treating the wounds of the elegant youth in black. In the sky, the Stone Gathering Daoist Johnson moved toward the second of the twin monsters, who still lay prostrate over his elder brother.