Chapter 179: Suffer a Little Longer, West Sea Cultivators—Let the Immortal Alliance Bear the Blame (1.02W)

In a cave realm beyond some great heaven, all four directions were void gray, with no land or water to be found.

At the center of the cave realm sat a spherical, multicolored, indeterminate object, slowly rotating continuously.

As the sphere rotated, scattered beams of colored light shot toward the edges of the cave realm.

The colored light seemed to carry immense power, yet also appeared to be transforming; when it struck the gray boundary of the cave realm, the boundary slowly expanded.

The general idea was that, due to his merit in slaying alien demonic cultivators, the Heavenly Court had awarded him.

In the past, anyone locked in the ancestral hall could never leave before their punishment term ended.

At that moment, Du Juan stepped slowly from the back chamber carrying a silver basin; as she appeared, everyone in the hall caught a strong, intoxicating scent of alcohol. The basin held warm yellow wine; Du Juan lifted Dong Ping’s front robe, dipped a towel in the wine, and wiped his chest.

Just now, those fighter jets launched their attack from over ten kilometers away, and their strikes were extremely precise.

Thus, when the stock market opened, Yixin Group’s financial specialists immediately bought large quantities of LG Group shares.

Liu Chong saw the Yellow Turbans choosing to cross the river, and sneered. He had cavalry; ambushing halfway across was basic military wisdom—didn’t the Yellow Turban commander know that?

Pi Hongfeng sneered: “Lin Beichen? He’s merely a upstart. He may seem powerful, but how could he compare to the old master?”

After defeating Bo Cai at Changshe, Huangfu Song joined Zhu Jun to suppress Bo Cai and Peng Tuo, then pacified the Yellow Turbans in Runan and Chen State. Only afterward did he split forces with Zhu Jun, who headed to Wan City, while Huangfu Song marched north toward Dongjun—but before departing, Huangfu Song received some northern intelligence.

In early December, the Xianbei finally moved: over ten tribes, seventy to eighty thousand men, invaded You and Bing Provinces.

He doted on these two disciples of his beyond measure; though not his own blood, they were as good as sons. He had watched them grow up—they would never, no matter how bold, commit betrayal.

Qi Haoran sat motionless on his cushion, thinking: If you were sent to the navy, I’d lose my appetite and sleep again.

Even though everyone knew Hu Man was innocent in the camp, they still dragged him out and cursed him again and again; now that the Mu and Hu families were clashing again, and Hu clearly stood to lose, everyone cheered on the Mu side.

“You’re just full of flattery—you’ve seen this before,” said Qing Xian’er, blushing slightly at Mu Yi’s praise, yet inwardly delighted—after all, who doesn’t enjoy praise from someone they like? Even a beauty like Xian’er was no exception.

How infuriating! Wasn’t it just that he stole herbs when managing the herb garden? He’d burned the ledgers—how could one still be in Chonghe’s hands?

Mo’s father, filled with disdain and anger, sized up the scoundrel before him: simply handsome, with an uncommon aura. Had he not stolen Mo Xunxun, Mo’s father would have deemed him a fine man.

“Remember, the one who killed her was from Juntian City!” As he dismissed the surrounding array, Jun Yunqing summoned the tall men previously sent to track and surveil her, and said calmly.

He Xi sighed regretfully; he’d just reached the most interesting part of his story, and now these two wanted to leave—he couldn’t help feeling disappointed, yet he made no effort to stop them, for forced fruit is never sweet.

At that moment, Chang Wu and the others were held back by Ye Huangyu’s group; seeing Ye Lingyue vanish, they could only grit their teeth helplessly.

Jiang Shaole took a sip, eyes lighting up. The chicken soup was not overly salty, carried a faint sweetness, and had an indescribable fragrance.