Volume One, Chapter 72: The Matter of Cheng Yao’s Official Appointment

Moreover, it wasn't just the two of them—during this period, Raikkonen and Ye Feng frequently took two teams of their companions out to dine, seek entertainment, or attend parties together.

Caught in the act, Ouyang Ke's cheeks flushed red; she hurled the gun fiercely at Tang Jun, who dodged it deftly.

Without another glance at me, she staggered away. Her maid hurried over to support her. Soon after, she boarded the sedan chair and gradually disappeared into the distance.

Those burly men appeared robust and broad-shouldered, their skin dark as if they were of mixed African and Arab descent.

“Big brother!” Yue Wushang called out to Yue Qi in a coy, cloying voice that sent shivers down his spine. He quickly pleaded, “Wushang, speak properly, please! If you must, vent your anger on me with a few punches—just don’t call me that way. It’ll cost me years of my life.”

If the Tianhai clan and their nine generations were not utterly destroyed, if Yang Ruofeng was not annihilated, and if those hiding in the shadows did not come forward to admit their guilt, how could their burning resentment ever be soothed?

Such a violent scene made some of the onlookers gasp. Even the previously blustering brute instinctively took a few steps back, afraid to attract trouble.

This seemingly ordinary gesture gave one an uncanny sense of being transported to a primeval wilderness.

Could it be that the great sages from the Southern Wilds or Western Desert had come to annihilate the Eastern Continent and seize their cultivation resources?

Yet here they were, stranded on a desolate island, unable to recover enough strength to cross the sea, which made the situation all the more dire.

Remembering that Zhu Xiaozhi was genetically enhanced and possessed a certain regenerative ability, Chu Yue quietly nodded, realizing that binding her wounds too tightly might impede her recovery.

Li Chuanfei glanced at Chen Yuan. Seeing Chen Yuan stand utterly motionless, her heart plummeted into a fathomless abyss.

“What are you still looking around for?” Li Shizi snapped, suddenly turning her head to follow Long Xin’s gaze.

A faint blush tinged Luo Qiong’s cheeks, but she dared not say more. She could only think that her son’s temperament hadn’t changed at all.

This technique, it was said, was developed by the ancestors of the Salt Gang during the grueling days of salt-drying. Back then, life was harsh, and the Salt Gang’s forebears were a group of outlaws forced by the court to labor in the southern seas, generation after generation drying salt.

Zhu Xiaozhi deftly redirected Zhao Xueqian’s questions. At first, Zhao Xueqian was tangled up in thoughts about her relationship with Chu Yue, but after a few quick exchanges, Zhu Xiaozhi had her thoroughly confused, her mind led around in circles.

Those words of flattery just now had not escaped his ears, but instead of feeling pleased, his expression grew darker and heavier.

The city lord understood adventurers well enough. It wasn’t just him—even a steward at his side could say a trivial thing, and if an adventurer overheard, it could become an issue.

Unless the Obsidian Demon Lord could persist until he had completely absorbed the entire Vast World, there would be no hope.

Bai Ze struggled desperately, but having been starved for so long and bound tightly, he could not break free for the moment.

Everyone looked behind Chris, and sure enough, they stood in perfect order: hands lowered, palms inward, folded respectfully in front of their abdomens, all displaying the utmost deference.

Zhan Zhao hesitated a moment, but ultimately shook his head. No matter how much sympathy he felt, reason dictated he must stop Wang Chongyang.

Huang Zezhong was left speechless, unsure whether Zhao Tianqin was joking or genuinely that capable.

The magic core continued to absorb battle energy, and the sensation of swelling within his body gradually faded.

Jiang Lin nearly popped his eyes out in astonishment, watching Jia Qiang stumble and almost fall from his horse.

“Amethyst Winged Lion King, Rainbow Devouring Python? I never expected... After four thousand seven hundred years... to see the beastfolk again.” The illusory figure glanced at the pair, his voice trembling with irrepressible excitement.

When she finally woke, Du Feiyu was still relentlessly repeating the process: curing meat, eating meat, boiling meat, roasting meat.

“After the Thunderquake Bomb explodes, Jin and I will charge first. The rest of you hold back—wait until all their second-tier experts are drawn away, then break through.” Brother Ming instructed.

Deng Daqiang carefully collected the fur from both creatures—these were the pelts of enlightened demons and not to be wasted. Reasoning with them was pointless, not because their intelligence was low, but because they lacked any sense of human law, always doing things as they pleased.

If one must find a reason for this love, then let it be that their zodiac signs perfectly matched; and if one must set a limit for this reason, it would have to be ten thousand years.

Calming her emotions, she returned to the office to continue her day’s work, though her heart had long since flown elsewhere.

Unable to reach any conclusion, Bingyue decided to visit the alchemy chamber in person—perhaps she could find a way to master it. With a few teleports, she stood outside the chamber.

As Ye Chen pondered in confusion, several dark figures appeared before his eyes, darting across the ground, each carrying bottles and jars, their intentions unknown.

The tall, thin elder had lost all trace of murderous intent; in such a perilous place, survival was their only goal.

This was her first time reconnecting with former friends since returning to City C. She wished to maintain a peaceful life so she could recover in tranquility.

He could clearly sense that within the lightning, alongside its destructive power, there was a hidden force of creation, which his internal arts ceaselessly transformed into energy for healing his wounds.

Fang Zheng’s heart was perfectly calm; he understood the chasm between himself and true power, and yearned to once again experience the feeling of being on the edge of death.

“Then why not take me with you?” Bebe pestered relentlessly, determined not to let Mommy go so easily.

Yet theory is just that—theory. With only fifteen minutes of flight training, what could one possibly hope to achieve?

“Let’s go, let’s go! We’ll talk when we get back!” Mo Jiahao said in frustration, scratching his head as he pulled Mo Yuhan to her feet.

Under her increasingly cold gaze, Xia Yang could only force a bitter smile and quietly impart the Rama Internal Technique to her. Xiaoyu remained silent; one taught, one learned, and beyond cultivation, no other words were exchanged.

As the blue sky returned to calm, the surviving villagers crawled out from the ruins. Having endured the bombings, the Chinese people were like the most resilient wild grass—no matter how often the flames swept over them, they stubbornly clung to life.

“Let Prince Gong investigate first, Your Majesty,” the emperor suggested, intending to let the old fox test the waters. Unexpectedly, Princess Xiuning, undeterred by the stifling heat, rushed inside. The heat was so intense it made it impossible to open one’s eyes.

Ling Yang hurried to support Feng Sisi, but her strong hand remained firmly pressed on the crystal ball. Dirt fell from beneath her nails as her whole hand grew nearly translucent; as her fingers moved, the crystal ball shone with brilliant light, and indistinct images began to form within it, gradually becoming clear.