Chapter 920: Lifespirit Treasure

The next day, after a cultivation class, news spread through the sect that Mo Hua had reached Foundation Establishment late stage, instantly sparking a minor uproar.

The Grand Void Gate's top array expert, the leader of array arts, the senior brother to thousands of disciples—he had finally broken through to Foundation Establishment late stage, just like his junior brothers.

This senior brother, who had been exceptionally permitted to advance to the Foundation Establishment late stage year, was finally free from the fear of being held back.

Everyone in the Grand Void Gate, from top to bottom, breathed a sigh of relief.

She strained to keep her voice low, but everyone in the inn's lobby immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them.

Among the top ten candidates, Wei Yan, Wu Jin, and the Red-White Roses led in votes; behind them came Zuo Botang, Bo Chuanhuo, Zuo Yi, and Lan; the last two positions swapped constantly, dizzying to follow.

The moment she opened the news, a photo of two handsome men standing side by side blinded her eyes—one black, one white, perfectly complementing each other, making all else in the world instantly fade.

She never used to find him attractive or understand his appeal, but ever since he lightened several shades, she thought—he seemed… kinda handsome.

There was no way out—Tang Qishan, she was stuck with him now; she'd figure out how to save him later. What else could she do?

Zuo Yi, who Wu Jin was worried about, sneezed, his gaze gloomy, clutching the green card he'd just received—a minor baron with low status.

The nobleman's fingers, heavy with ornaments, idly circled the muscular waist of the guard, as if pulling him closer.

By the time they regained their senses, Qin Jinyu had already reached the prince consort's side. Strangely, she did nothing harmful to him—only pressed one hand firmly against his shoulder.

The path to imperial power has always been paved with countless bloodstains and piles of white bones; at this moment, she feared she herself might become one more drop of blood before the dragon throne.

Lin Cha hesitated for two seconds, remembered Qin Moshang's words about Deng Ruobai's resignation, and sent her a message.

Lin Shanshan cried even harder, overjoyed—true friends are true friends; even though Lan Ruoxi had forgotten her, she still cared.

"Who are you?" Luo Jingyang clenched his other hand into a fist, knuckles turning bluish-white from the force.

If Xuan Yuan Nan suddenly became as powerful as a volcanic deity and immune to battle qi, she and He Lian Xuan Yu might be forced to flee for their lives—or die together.

I suddenly felt a pang of grievance, but saw he was in low spirits, so I dared not speak carelessly or make noise; I tiptoed to the dining table and gathered up all the covered dishes.

The Qin and Luo families were very close, their relationship so strong that their visits felt as casual as entering their own homes.

"What are you doing!" Mao Xue turned and shouted angrily, twisting her body to shake off those filthy hands, but the bald man refused to let go, pretending to push her toward the car while holding on tight.

Her voice was pleasant; when reciting poetry, her intonation rose and fell with the rhythm of early spring—warbling orioles filling the trees, fragrant grasses piling along the embankment—sounding as clear and melodious as music.

She politely pulled me along; curious to see what this prodigy was up to, I followed her into the elevator and to her office.

Hu clothing: fitted and narrow, convenient for movement; during Zhao's weakness, it often lost cities internally and struggled to repel Hu invaders; King Wuling studied Hu attire, recognized its advantages in warfare, and ordered adoption of Hu clothing, reformed military structure, and trained in mounted archery; he learned from the Hu, adopted their tactics; later he expanded eastward to Zhongshan and westward into Hu lands, annexing a thousand li of territory, rivaling the might of Qin.

"Master, your life…? Is your body failing?" Mordon felt incredulous, for in his mind, Ancient One had always been this way—he had never once imagined she could die.