Volume One, Chapter 49: Lu Hongzhao's Threat

Wang Bo chuckled to himself, knowing well the nature of his master from Danyang County—hot-tempered, unrestrained, and with a tongue sharper than most.

Inside one of the boxes was a century-old Lingzhi mushroom the size of a basin, considered a mid-tier spiritual herb of the first rank.

The next day, Su Miaomiao awoke feeling utterly sore all over, especially in that place, as if she had been run over by a truck.

Fei Jie was dead, Fan Xian had been expelled from the capital, those from the Supervisory Institute’s third division were arresting and sentencing others, and Fei Jie’s disciples and their families were all exterminated. After searching the entire city, there was not a single person left who could cure the poison within her.

Others generally shared Master Xu’s thoughts, and Lady Li was particularly gleeful, her heart bubbling with delight.

Lin Qiandai turned her gaze to the window of the carriage. The night sky was ablaze with stars, neon lights flowing like rivers—beautiful and dazzling—but she had no mood to appreciate it, her mind heavy with thoughts.

Behind her walked several men who resembled bodyguards, each radiating an imposing aura that inspired awe.

The speed difference between Li Junye and the Hell Ape was too great; it was impossible for him to actively pierce the Hell Ape with the Silent Annihilation Dagger. Therefore, the only way for success was if the Hell Ape charged and collided with the dagger on its own accord.

After landing, Xianyu Tong leapt to the side of a disciple from the Kongtong Sect, lightly touching the nose and mouth—only to find the person was already dead. Shocked and filled with hatred, he glared fiercely.

In any case, he was going anyway, because Yang Kang’s story had unfolded. With Ouyang Feng yet to arrive, Wanyan Honglie would inevitably call Qiu Qianzhang to rescue, providing a prime opportunity to infiltrate the Iron Palm Gang.

As the strategist among the Eighteen Riders of Yanbei, he had been responsible for the fourth prince’s care and safety since the prince entered Yanyun.

Holding the fifty thousand yuan cash reward from the school, Wen Chuyan without hesitation deposited it directly into Jiang Xingmian’s online banking account.

Only then did Mu Xi begin to understand. He had often heard tales of immortals descending to undergo tribulations before ascending as higher immortals or gods, thinking such trials were easy compared to thunder or divine fire tribulations. Yet, he never imagined there was talk of falling into mortal life for hundreds or thousands of lifetimes. In light of this, achieving ascension was indeed no easy feat.

From that moment on, she vowed to find a man a hundred times better than the Emperor of the Eastern Peak. She would become the ruler of this world, so that one day this man would regret not choosing her, and she would trample him beneath her feet, crushing his dignity as he had trampled hers.

With a sudden bang like firecrackers exploding, the golden fireball formed from sparks burst midair, scattering fiery sparks across the ground before vanishing without a trace.

When Shen Yuanhe arrived, Shen Xian was still lying on the table, unable to rise, as if her marrow had been drained.

The wind rose and sank to the bottom of the lake, surrounded by several sword lights flying up and down. They clearly sought to follow him but, for some unknown reason, never landed in his hand.

In his battle against the Wind God Guards, regardless of the process, the outcome was always his victory, a fact that gave him an advantage over anyone on the Lingyun List.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Youxiao recalled that now, on the seas of the Ming Dynasty, there existed a powerful civilian force. Though names like Li Dan and Yan Siqi might be unfamiliar, Zheng Zhilong and his son Zheng Chenggong were renowned.

Mentioning Shi Ying, Shen Yuanhe twitched the corner of his mouth in what seemed like a smile, but there was no genuine warmth in it.

“Pfft!” Crystal burst out laughing, while Song Xiangcai slammed her forehead in frustration, utterly unwilling to entertain Wang Taika’s antics.

Now Wang Kui’s eyes finally showed panic as he pointed at Beiming, his face filled with endless terror, stammering as he spoke.

“Before the match begins, let me introduce the process. Please remember it. The captain of the Phantom Team is Chen Yi,” a capable man said to him.

Chen Yi too did not escape death; he died in front of the tower after being hit by its cannon.

“Disappear for a while! Come with me for a stroll! Maybe that will satisfy you,” Wu Zhao said to the Green Ghost.

Agent Mendes informed Fang Yan that Inter Milan had already approached the club for a transfer, but was rejected. They would make another offer in the summer, and more clubs would follow. He needed to prepare himself to play for a top-tier club.

As the scene grew awkward, the Shark Pearl placed on Daji’s neck, containing Geng Le’s soul, spoke.

At this moment, the entire audience behind him fell silent. The killing of the Third Master sent a massive shock through their nerves, leaving them momentarily stunned.

Gongsun Li turned around. Fang Yan followed her briskly, took the elevator, and arrived at her office.

Seeing Wang Musheng, Beiming grew increasingly fearful, eyes reddening as he spoke, his expression complex and conflicted. A son doubting his own father—one could imagine the torment. Yet before he could finish, Beiming interrupted with a word.

Having made up his mind, Wei Yan’s eyes gleamed briefly before he vanished like a shooting rainbow.

“What if we refuse?” Su Bumai’s face twisted fiercely, a murderous aura erupting.

Though everyone knew the Chinese Martial Arts Association had come looking for trouble, no one expected the association’s chairman—a man well into his sixties—to take action personally. This surprised everyone.

The terrifying, vicious curses echoed in his mind. Li Haonan looked at the pitiful Gu Xiaobei, his once soft heart hardening instantly. “Don’t you dare fake death! I want you to do it again!” His usually calm and commanding presence now furrowed with cold menace.

“He must be from the Angel clan; outsiders cannot invoke the Angelic Hymn,” the elder asserted confidently.

Thanks to her breakthrough to the Spiritual Void, her mindset had risen to a higher level, making her less susceptible to influence. Besides, this was merely another’s emotion—yet she still sensed it.

To monsters and deities, cultivators, and others, death meant the loss of soul and spirit, not simply the end of life.