Chapter 60: It Seems That Forced Love Truly Bears No Sweet Fruit

Cao Mang was so certain because he sensed it from Gu Wuxia's tone; there was no real panic, and her sobs sounded somewhat forced. With her mother's life or death uncertain, the situation seemed illogical—he was determined to see if she truly meant to harm him.

Seeing his insistence, Qiu Yurou grew anxious. “You know there’s a trap, yet you still want to go. If something happens to you, what will I do?”

Cao Mang revealed...

On a midwinter night, the biting wind howled ceaselessly. That night, Huizhu did not return to her inner chamber. Instead, in the eastern wing with Hongli, she listened to the whistling wind outside and gradually drifted into sleep.

Sensing scrutiny, she glanced back, her bright eyes turning. After a brief pause, she smiled faintly—a nod of greeting.

Lu Fei’s thoughts were shaped by the scattered medicinal residue covering the floor, the tools for storing elixirs, and the thick scent of medicine permeating the entire room.

“Tianhen, what should we do now?” Wang Haolin’s heart grew heavy. As the saying goes, when the nest falls, there are no whole eggs. After this planet was taken, the caster must have become quite powerful. As he consolidated his power step by step, would the immortal realm not be in grave peril?

Moreover, judging by Lianye’s physique, though not broad-shouldered or burly, he was tall and athletic. At the very least, someone like Hiroto Dentomachi, the clown, would be no match; Lianye could easily flatten ten of him single-handedly.

Upon entering the tent, a medicinal fragrance greeted them. Zhong Xiu’er, dressed in a white long robe, was checking Yuan Lu’s pulse. In Yuan Lu’s arms was his newborn son, barely two months old.

Huo Tong frowned slightly. She would never forget her first encounter with the Fierce God. If he had had murderous intent then, with her abilities at the time, she would never have lasted until the Pink Dragon appeared.

After a long while, Nezha was still wielding the Chaos Silk. Soon, a massive whirlpool formed underwater, centered on Nezha, expanding outward.

He originally thought it was nothing, but after meeting Zhi Yu, he realized he could not afford to be careless.

“Bah! Admire him? He’s not even as good as our crippled prince.” The carriage rolled through the bustling city. Han Ning, stirred by Zhou Tie’s words, spoke with some agitation, her voice loud enough for the nearby pedestrians to catch every word.

“Run? Let’s see how you run now.” The brash leader crossed his arms, watching Xiao Yu and the others with amused patience.

To avoid detection, Ye Qing filled in the stone chamber and slipped away without a trace.

In ancient times, Shennong was revered as the Holy Emperor of the human race. His art of alchemy—the way of refining elixirs—had reached the level of reverence even in that era.

“Where are you talking about? It’s true your younger sister is quite outstanding.” Granny Zhao smiled, politely declining.

“To come up with such a scheme, that girl is really impressive. Still, her opponent is lucky to be a fool.” After a chuckle to himself, he continued to coordinate the team, pressing the surrounding enemy forces.

Gu Chenghui was lost in thought when she suddenly felt a gaze scrutinizing her from beside her grandmother. She stiffened, lowered her eyes, and buried her head under the guise of sipping tea.

The elder with the long beard did not actually ascend to the sixth floor. After bowing respectfully at the stairway, he returned to the third floor. The one who greeted Xie Yun was a supreme being of the Perfect Realm, with short, deep purple hair and eyes that glowed faintly with blue-green light—a transformed spirit beast, unmistakably.

On the other hand, the closer they got to the core area, the more cultivators they encountered. Killing cultivators for points was clearly much more efficient than slaughtering spirit beasts.

Lan Yan had already engaged the enemy. Though not well-versed in warfare, killing was his specialty. In just a short time, dozens of enemy soldiers had fallen by his hand. Lan Yan never dragged things out—every strike was fatal.