Chapter Thirty-Three: Contrary to Expectations-Reencarnação em um roteiro de vingança: ainda bem que eu não sou uma pessoa boa(Onde está o meu peixinho seco?)

Gongcheng Zongguo stood in the pavilion behind Jueyin Temple, gazing at the scenery. He could not help but recall the silhouette of Moqi Hui he had just glimpsed, dressed in that silver-threaded, landscape-patterned silk gown.

Because of the intricate craftsmanship required, the master artisan had refused to make any more, and this was the only bolt of its kind in existence.

Years ago, during the engagement, he had gifted this fabric to Moqi Yue’s mother, Song Qiange; he would never mistake the way the threads shimmered with gradient colors under the sun. Song Qiange had cherished it deeply; even if it were to be given away, it should have gone to...

Su Le listened to Ye Chen’s words and finally understood why Ye Chen insisted on holding her like that while they slept.

Upon hearing this, Liu Ye froze for a moment. Then, with a faint blush on his cheeks, he glanced at Xu Miao and said in a low voice, "Handle this matter as you see fit."

In truth, however, his mind was already racing, searching for an excuse to completely eradicate the Wei family, so that his secrets might be buried underground forever.

Lin Chen sat up straight, feeling that this cursed place called Dana was full of lunatics. Although they were dressed like ghosts, the creature in front of the cage was still human.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, your strength is nothing special." Zhao Ritian sneered twice and continued to press toward Lin Yue, his fists raining down upon him.

After returning to the temporary encampment with Zhang Miao, Liu Ye did not join him in arranging the troops for the expedition to Sishui Pass. Instead, he sought out Xu Shu alone, wanting to ask for his opinion on combining their forces to capture the pass.

Wang Chongyang had specifically bought a purple clay pot from the supermarket and stewed an old hen, adding various ingredients and waiting patiently for it to be ready.

In the middle of the night, there was a strange noise in the room. In the darkness, footsteps sounded; someone crept into the room and stopped beside the bed.

Although he knew there was no chance of escaping from Fang Yan, every meter he ran meant the probability of being discovered by others increased by a fraction.

If it weren't for her, they wouldn't have come down to find her, and they wouldn't be implicated and trapped here.

"The secret guards we sent to track the young master of the Wuxin Sect have been killed, in a corner of Qinglong Street..." Sensing the murderous aura radiating from Feng Yeyan, the guard bowed his head even lower.

In the front hall of the Prince Xiao’s mansion, Feng Yeyan’s handsome face was filled with monstrous rage. His icy, piercing phoenix eyes held a murderous intent, and a short, emerald-green dagger was gripped tightly in his palm. Under the cover of night, a cataclysmic fury surrounded him, chilling to the bone.

The wound was suffused with the aura of creation; the Red-Eyed Silver Ape King, caught off guard, could not recover and was forced to let its blood drip incessantly.

Now she had appeared here inexplicably, and in turn, was inexplicably accused by Jing Haoyu of stealing his sword manual.

Xiaoyao Feng’s voice flickered in and out, and his body seemed to shuttle through the void. The three Asuras roared repeatedly, yet they could only chase after him, unable to inflict the slightest injury.

Within the vortex, the center was the safest place. Ouyang Xue had run to the very heart of it, using the whirlpool generated by the two men’s battle as her own weapon.

"My energy is at about twenty percent, but fortunately, flying doesn't consume much; the rate of consumption and regeneration are perfectly balanced."

The old woman’s voice was filled with exhaustion; her eyes were downcast, and she was deeply disappointed by such matters.

Lin Xuan had watched Mo Zidai become like this all along the way, and he was simply speechless. On the road, Lin Xuan rode his horse to He Xiao’s side and spoke to him.

Feng Yangzi retreated a hundred paces before he could steady himself. After ten breaths of this struggle, the white light finally died down. By then, Feng Yangzi’s face was flushed red, sweat beaded on his temples, and the divine power within him had been largely depleted. Divine power, like immortal energy, was essentially spiritual power, only purer and more profound.

After the two people took the antidote, Ling Xi observed the subsequent effects from the side. Only after confirming that the antidote worked well and had absolutely no side effects did she let out a long sigh of relief.