Chapter 140

“Let him be—he’s asking for his own death, so don’t blame anyone else.” Deng Yijie, furious, grabbed Qiu Yushuang’s hand, and both stormed out of Haitian Grand Inn.

A tremendous force surged through him; Mo He could no longer hold onto his spear, which instantly flew from his grip and landed at the edge of the arena, while at that moment, Zhou Ming’s fist slammed into Mo He’s chest.

This place had once been occupied by Zak’s garrison, but now that Zak had been defeated, his troops fled in panic.

Instantly, a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted from the crowd below, echoing throughout the banquet hall.

If Dai Baozong were a sensible man, he wouldn’t lash out blindly—that would only cut off his own future. He had been furious with Dai Baozong, but upon seeing how utterly humiliated he had become, his anger melted away.

“You know me?” Shan Yuan asked, surprised, looking at Luo Ting; the gloom from He Lian’s departure lifted considerably.

He immediately steadied his mind, aligned the tiny hole in the largest bead of the bracelet with Nie Wuzheng’s hand, and pressed down the protruding mechanism—flying needles laced with paralyzing poison struck Nie Wuzheng’s dorsal hand.

Upon hearing this, the Divine Emperor’s expression grew grim once more; after all, such an outcome was unacceptable to him.

The assassin who dared risk death to sneak alone into the Tianhai Clan solely to kill him—this pool of suspects is easily narrowed. At a time when Jieyin was at its peak, it couldn’t be an enemy faction’s hireling; it could only be a survivor from Sheng Xu. After all, Jieyin had destroyed Sheng Xu.

Zhen Rong stepped forward two paces, gently pushed the door panel—and it didn’t latch shut. He looked at her with slight surprise.

Ma Chao’s target wasn’t here, so he didn’t pause at all, merely leading his cavalry swiftly toward the Eastern Yi Plains, where over three thousand Han soldiers remained enslaved by Sun Quan.

Suddenly, a faint, mosquito-like voice whispered: “Count me in.” It was Ouyang Lan, unwilling to be left out, summoning her courage and speaking in a blush-faced murmur.

Ye Fan’s lips curled into a cold smile; his second battle was about to begin, and this time he resolved to fight fiercely and eliminate all these men.

Pingfan smiled. “Same to you—not some god. Mr. Wu, are you the guardian deity of this place?” For him and those behind him, how to greet each other and address one another had become an excruciating problem.

Long Ma was puzzled. Since Tian Fan’s battle began, they had been watching closely; aside from that initial punch exchanged with the old Daoist, Tian Fan had never been touched since—there was no way he could have been injured in combat.

When Pingfan first set foot on this mysterious land, chasing the footsteps of the Cybertronians, he discovered the secret entrance to a cavern on the far side of the Moon, then later found a mysterious subterranean medium tens of kilometers down—even the Cybertronians couldn’t enter. At that moment, he sensed secrets here unknown to humanity.

After learning that the Emperor had been captured by the Southern Barbarians, Liu Bian’s Imperial Guard unit panicked instantly. Pang Shan left only ten guards in Chengdu as inside agents and immediately led the remaining twenty to pursue the trail of the Southern Barbarians’ pack animals.

There were also methods whose abilities were unidentifiable, one after another manipulating various substances falling from the sky—of course, those substances controlled or manipulated by elemental forces typically transformed into distinct forms.

He hesitated there, pacing back and forth. Yet in this hesitation, he accidentally noticed faint glimmers of luminescence in the grass—had he not been constantly moving and shifting his gaze forward, he might never have noticed such subtle differences.

On the heavy rosewood shelf sat various porcelain pieces. Xiao Heng stopped before it, staring at a fencai porcelain—its colors bright and fresh, pleasing to the eye, exactly the style Meng Jingyi favored.

Watching Yangyang’s series of movements, Su Yiqing felt her heart rise to her throat.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Arrogant fool!” Li Meng snorted, then abruptly turned aside, slashing a ghost-masked attacker from behind clean in two with her sword.

The prescription Xia Zihan gave to Rong Shizi’s wife included one ingredient: fifty-year-old Jiang Wang.

Ling Qing, who had heard every word Jun Wang spoke, showed no reaction whatsoever—she continued leisurely eating the grapes Lian Chengyao had peeled for her.

Could it be he anticipated that r would go silent after accepting the mission from the Secret Affairs Bureau, and thus left him a communication channel—like a private hotline?

After going out, she warmed up some light soup, drank a few sips, and felt better. Probably she was too hungry and had eaten cold food, irritating her stomach and causing vomiting. Meng Jingyi didn’t dwell on it, washed the dishes, and applied light makeup to look more spirited.

“Mr. Yoen?” Su Zhou’s tone grew colder; politeness and patience have their limits.

Back home, Caesar grabbed Kude’s ear and scolded him fiercely, then made him kneel on the laundry board.

The trees’ color indeed appeared darker than ordinary trees, but this difference was so subtle as to be nearly invisible—only an extremely observant person could detect it.

The golden eaves of surrounding palaces intermittently vanished among red flowers and green trees. In the distance, palace attendants walked orderly along the palace path.

They had tried placing people in their second brother’s quarters before, but each one was kicked out the very next day, and their second brother would publicly scold the concubines in front of their father—now the concubines dared not send anyone anymore.

I love you, cherish you, and treasure you so deeply—I cannot express it in words, so I must show it through action.

“Is this true?” Some didn’t believe Feng Qingcang’s words and shouted out; others nearby nodded and asked too.

Perhaps her affection for me is still only a tiny bit, far less than mine for her—but what does it matter?