Chapter 92: Mei Lin Visits! The Hongmen Banquet

The next scene was rather bloody.

When Deng Ken saw the young dragon tear open the Dongxiong ’s abdomen and pull out a bloody length of intestine, chewing it with relish like a spicy strip, he knew he could never truly step into the second avatar’s perspective.

This was pure self-inflicted torment, unless one was driven to it by desperation.

The second avatar ate the Dongxiong whole, fur and all—first devouring the soft organs and intestines, then gnawing voraciously on the bear’s heart.

Yes, last time it wasn’t just Tang Quan who suffered internal injuries from Vistin’s divine power—the same force had severely wounded Vistin too, forcing him to recuperate for years. Both knew another battle was coming, for each held something the other needed.

Mu Yang nodded, and the two quickly exchanged bullets; this method of exchange was no worse than the legendary infinite-ammunition weapons—it merely required reloading or swapping magazines.

What they held in their hands were the very objects they clutched at the moment of death, now bound to them as part of their undead collective, invisible to ordinary eyes, yet freely pickable up and set down by them.

Murong Zhao made no comment on his conclusion, merely stepped forward, rose on her toes, and patted his shoulder, then let out a huge yawn and went to the “Forbidden Chamber” for a nap.

To open peace for ten thousand generations, how could there be no bloodshed or sacrifice? Thus, at critical moments, someone must give their life, offering themselves as a sacrifice to gain great power.

Afterwards, Tsunade turned her gaze to Chiyo. Compared to the aged and worn-out Sarutobi Hiruzen, Chiyo—of similar age—had aged remarkably well; though fine lines creased the corners of her eyes, she remained a woman of enduring grace.

Outside, a wave of clamor rose and fell. Zhang Wujiu walked to the door and saw crowds surging like madmen, fleeing toward the outskirts of Zaiyangji. There, auspicious mists swirled, clouds glowed with radiant hues, painting the sky in shimmering light.

Yang Muqing was exceptionally composed during training; his focus had long surpassed “not hearing what happened outside his window”—when concentrated, he completely ignored every childish provocation from the Bodhi Seed, even if a dogtail grass tickled his soles, he would remain utterly unmoved.

That means you truly loved Erh Meng back then, but once you forgot, that feeling vanished—though if you bring her out, it won’t matter.

These wolves easily cause problems during training; in my memory, all documentaries involving these Steppe Souls carried extreme danger, so those presumed to be from the organization must have been equipped with far-advanced gear.

Good—it’s truly a chain of linked events. If one dared not approach the giant cobra king, they’d likely never discover this hidden realm. Yet many things are inherently contradictory: even if discovery were possible, we still remain shrouded in shadow.

At that moment, Fobozi resembled a Buddha Lord, radiating sacred light that illuminated all directions, making even a thousand li away perfectly visible.

To be honest, this kind of life was exactly what he wanted—but it was unrealistic, for he had no spare time to enjoy it; only by devoting himself utterly to cultivation could he honor the words he’d spoken two years ago.

Several princes also rose and spoke, for the Blood Child’s status far surpassed theirs—they could not defy his will.

Hearing Jing Rong’s call, Mu Xuefu curled her lips into a smile, as alluring as a poppy. She turned to watch him approach slowly, her smile growing ever brighter.

Where there are people, there is the jianghu; where there is jianghu, there is scheming and rivalry—and the Yao Guang Pillar was no exception.

This concerns past and present lives—now, we turn to the Qinglong Dao. Xiao Wu Shu glanced once more at Prince Qing, and only when the prince remained unmoved did he dare to speak.