Volume One, Chapter 38: The Domineering Emperor Xuanwu!

They clustered together, striking the golden barrier in relentless waves, bursting apart only to reform and crash against it again, an unending cycle. Cassius raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun overhead, squinting as he opened them, his tone carrying a trace of ease.

With the oppressive force dissipated, the elders of the Elven tribe collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent, gasping for breath, their sweat soaking through their clothes. The Corpse-Driving Clan remained the most mysterious among those in Xiangxi, and thus the corpse herders there observed many taboos.

Jiang Ming floated over and stepped onto Zhong Lingxiu's shoulder. Zhong Lingxiu twisted his left hand, sending a stream of dark energy toward Jiang Ming's waist.

“If not for me, at least keep some for the students,” Zhi Xiao grinned, turning to leave with Zhan Rui. “I have high hopes for them—their comprehension is excellent, if only they weren’t a bit slow.”

With no other choice, all that could be hoped for was that Ji Feng would kill as few as possible, capture more, then persuade them to surrender and thus spare their lives.

Compared to the ancient celestial sutras, those created by modern immortals were inevitably weaker.

“Feigning mystery, playing tricks—today, so many young geniuses from sacred lands and ancient martial families have gathered just to catch a glimpse of her. Yet she still hasn’t appeared—she’s putting on quite a show, isn’t she?” remarked a young man.

For someone like the Crown Prince of Fire, pride was everything. The stronger his adversary, the more he yearned to defeat them—especially someone like Mo Wangchen.

Aside from lying in bed to rest when the imperial physician came to take her pulse, Ruhua never idled. She shut herself in her room, writing up regulations for selling food from a tricycle cart and drafting membership rules for the gym and recreation room once it was complete.

Their cunning and insight had nothing to do with cultivation but were born of longevity and experience—things the younger and even those with higher cultivation could not perceive.

The imperious tone, combined with the chilly presence all around, made Zhao Qingran unconsciously step back a few paces. Still, she looked up and met his gaze, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly before laughter rippled through the air.

Having closed the shop with Liang, Wu Lide took Zhisen and Xing’er onto the donkey cart. Zhisen drove the donkey, and they set off toward Da Wu Village.

Feather-light kisses drifted over her body; the man was clearly restraining himself, his breath ragged but his movements careful and gentle.

Yan Tianyou paid the entrance fee, and the two of them entered the Daming Temple, while Heipang and his companions waited outside.

After discovering they were classmates, no one knew how happy that shy, slightly insecure boy truly was.

It was said that as soon as Jiang Erlang became manager, the first thing he did was to bring his old father home, refusing to let him meddle at the shop anymore. Old Jiang wasn’t pleased, but he had no choice; his son’s authority had to be respected, or else he wouldn’t command loyalty as manager.

The next morning, Gu Zixuan woke early, walking her lonely dog while waiting at the tea restaurant for the old regular who had taken her pet.

“If not, how else can you explain why I’m always your personal chauffeur?” He Yang said shamelessly, laughing at his own joke.

He spread a blend of spices evenly over the golden-roasted Tiansnow rabbit, and the aroma instantly filled the air.

Her mother gazed at Lin Meimian with deep affection, as if trying to etch her daughter’s image into memory. “To see you after death fills me with such joy,” she said, her eyes reddening, though as a ghost, she could not weep.

“Are you going to go on like this forever?” Gu Lingge’s face remained expressionless. Unable to comprehend, she had no way to respond. She simply continued forward; such incidents, while harmless in themselves, became a nuisance over time, and she still had much to do—she couldn’t be bothered to waste time on them.

“Senior sister, stop staring at me like that. You’re making chills run down my spine!” Tang Xiao, walking ahead, paused with a wry smile.

“What else?” Gu Lingge still hadn’t recovered. She had already accepted the news of Lixia’s death—so why bring her back now? She had learned to recall Lixia without pain; why the sudden reminder?

Mu Yi looked at this person who always seemed so calm and detached, sensing that something had changed, though he couldn’t say what. He’d never liked those people anyway, so killing them was just as well. Chu Zhaonan watched the smile on Gu Lingge’s face, his brow twitching—this was not the sister he remembered.

“That’s just the future,” Wu Ming replied, as tranquil as a placid lake. No matter how Butterfly pressed her, not the slightest ripple appeared in his eyes.

Perhaps it was a full stomach, or the excitement of the night, but master and disciples tossed and turned, unable to sleep even past midnight.

With a nervous heart, Karaite climbed the stairs. She hoped it was just her nerves acting up. No matter what, she cherished Shelley and believed in her love for Zorr, and she didn’t want any misfortune to befall them.

In the slowly chilling weather, Shelley stepped out in nothing but simple home clothes, her eyes shining with a heartrending brilliance.

“You have a point. If I fulfill that person’s expectations, will the soldiers who died for me finally find peace in rebirth?” Lu Zhi murmured softly.