Volume One, Chapter 90: Down for the Count

As soon as the wine glass was set down, Chu Ming turned to the beautiful woman beside him and said, “Fill it up.”

Only Du Tianqi remained silent, for he was not a cultivator from Wuyang Prefecture, and his strength was the weakest among them.

Qin Hao broke the seal with seal, forming hand signs, drawing upon the power of faith within the beads of his rosary, and sent forth the Vajra Lion Seal.

He hoped to find traces connected to Zhu Xiaotian and Wang Dalou among the wreckage of the two cars behind the reporter.

After Gong Yang finished speaking, he noticed the doubt in Zhou Caiwei’s beautiful eyes had not diminished in the slightest; on the contrary, it grew even deeper.

Finally, as the end of the month arrived, Gong Yang set forth for the area near Mount Yang.

She deftly avoided Zhang Xiaofeng’s latter questions, steering the conversation back to him.

Chen Ying was not awakened from her nightmare; she was lost in her dreams. Perhaps Yang Hao’s voice had entered her sleep, for she murmured pleas for help.

A descendant of the ancient Kunpeng and the Dragon Emperor Whale—a divine beast’s offspring? Though only one-tenth of a percent of the bloodline remained, it was already exceedingly rare.

“How can a man be compared to a dog? Wrong, utterly wrong.” The ancient Buddha’s face bore a hint of madness.

To serve as a follower of the Prince of Wuyang Prefecture, one must at least possess mid-stage Foundation Construction cultivation. Who among these low-level cultivators would dare to provoke them?

Though several people stood nearby, everyone knew Yang Cong’s words were directed at the Lord of the Long Sea.

“But—even the Demon Lock Tower…” Another disciple from Mount Shu trembled as he stared at the site of their former forbidden Demon Lock Tower, now nothing more than a giant pit dozens of yards deep. Confidence eluded him, and his voice quivered with fear.

Of course, Shangguan Wan’s keen mind had already anticipated this point, but she had not brought it up herself. After all, her sect, Immortal Arrival Gate, had no mortal feud with Ye Tian; there was no need to offend a cultivator of limitless potential. Still, since Jiang Long mentioned it, she nodded along in response.

However, memories from that time had become hazy. Huai Ren struggled to recall, but nothing specific surfaced; even the faces of those he once knew were vague and incomplete.

Lily had ventured into the dungeon with Yang Cong several times, and so she was well acquainted with his battle plans.

Though Ye Tian now had to handle various chores in the senior spiritual herb garden each day, he was surprised when Zhao Shouwang transferred a young disciple from the outer sect to take over his duties.

These zombies bared their teeth and roared ferociously, swinging their claws at Xia Xuerou, as if they meant to tear her apart and devour her whole.

Earlier, while downstairs, she had caught glimpses of the group’s conversation.

In the Ye family, Ye Tian found little warmth, save for a genuine brotherly bond with He Nian.

Afterwards, Han Ming raised his Ganjiang Moye Sword, carrying the disciple to the new sect headquarters.

“Exactly! Oh, I just came over after breakfast, and you didn’t even invite me in to sit.” Another old lady shook her head as she spoke.

From the sky came the cry of an eagle; Li Bai and the others paused, a shadow sweeping across the ground before them.

The assassination of the Wagner family was only meant to intimidate those noble merchants who abused the people; any alternate target would have served the same purpose.

Yet even so, it was still a moment too late. Ye Ling’s palm brushed against his grandfather’s shoulder, shattering his arm completely.