Chapter 87

Yue Ming’s lips curled into a smug smile. “I’m not stupid—I can tell you’re dissatisfied with Team Leader Zhang.” He wasn’t stupid at all; in fact, he was quite sharp, just slow to catch on, which was why he’d only just realized it.

As he spoke, Major Cabreño wore an air of arrogance, as if armored warfare were his own private domain, entirely subject to his control.

Yet amid the hail of bullets, he was but a tiny boat tossed in a storm—helpless, forced to endure silently, burying a sliver of hatred deep in his heart, waiting for the storm to pass, when they, risen from the flames, would repay their enemies tenfold, a hundredfold.

The Immortal Realm envoy came to his senses. He stood, turning his mask toward Taihuntian, his gaze sharpening into coldness. The hall had been empty save for him—but Taihuntian materialized from the chaos energy beside him.

Wang Ming could now roam freely in spirit. At this moment, his perception had never been clearer—as if he had seen his future outright: henceforth, he would gather herbs across countless worlds, forging for himself one Great Dao fruit.

“What! He did all this for that reason?” Yue Ming blurted out, startled—but luckily, he didn’t utter any key phrases, so no one else noticed.

“What? Don’t you like them?” Si Junhao frowned as he saw her glance briefly.

At this moment, Yun Qixi’s tears refused to stop. They held too much: the guilt of leaving without a word in anger, five months of longing stretched across time and space with nowhere to rest, and the knowledge that she had rewritten history, finally given a chance to make up for these four lost years.

Sherman’s expression remained grim. After the failure in Montana, his hairline had receded further, matching his cold gaze—becoming War Minister hadn’t brought Sherman any joy.

The Sage’s aura descended upon the world, filling all beings with terror and reverence, making even the gods dare not slacken. Wang Ming had already claimed the Sage’s Dao Fruit, the Sage’s cosmic authority—henceforth, he was a Honghuang Sage.

“Boss! Before you leave, I’ve got a gift for you!” Wang Yu whispered softly, making it seem mysterious.

The Kunlun disciples had no choice but to bow. “Brother Qin, we’re leaving.” As the defeated, they still bowed respectfully to Yang Youhe before departing.

Elder Si turned and waved to the crowd. “Everyone, disperse.” Then he led Yang Youhe and the green-robed youth to the Sect Master’s residence courtyard.

“Then why did you come here to eat? On my way, I saw some decent restaurants just ahead,” Wen Ruanruan asked, puzzled.

What she needed to do now was to revive the company—only when the company thrived could she truly resist.

Though she was dazed from fever, when danger arose, she still managed to rise, determined to protect herself.

“You lived doing evil, and now even in death you take lives—how worthless you are! Your mother and father were driven to death by you, and you’re still doing evil after dying from drugs! Monster!” The grandfather pointed at the marks on his mother’s neck and cursed the ghost furiously.

Gu Xingjue and Tangtang exchanged glances. The nurse wouldn’t come now, nor would family—both felt a flicker of suspicion.

Tangtang sat in her seat, taking in every expression on Liu Hanyan’s face. When she saw the girl’s stifled, miserable expression, she barely held back a laugh.

It was similar in function to the Water-Repelling Pearl—both repelled water—but this one also carried a powerful Spirit-Sealing effect.

An hour passed. They looted the official’s private airship from above, cramming their storage spaces with treasures and rare materials. Aside from Aqing, whose internal storage space inexplicably held more, Ahuang and Ajin shook their heads in frustration—there wasn’t enough room.

Lately, Wei Taiqiang’s right eyelid kept twitching. Each twitch filled him with dread—because whenever his right eyelid twitched, he inevitably lost money. Thus, Wei Taiqiang was deeply displeased.

Of course, this didn’t mean Sheng Qingqing didn’t care about Kong Gaoming—only that, by comparison, Kong Gaoming simply wasn’t as important as her own younger sister.

Before entering, Wan Ling’er turned back to Sun Ze, placed her hand beside her ear, and signaled him to call.

"What's going on?" Sun Ze was startled by this chain of events. He was about to examine it closely when suddenly a silver vortex lunged at him—he felt darkness swallow his vision.

After Lei Xiaotian finished healing Guo Peiqing, A Xia returned with a basin of water for her. Seeing Guo Peiqing was unharmed, she relaxed. Seeing how kindly these martial heroes treated her, Guo Peiqing smiled faintly.

The so-called “crossing point of water and fire stars” exists in this form between the two stars. According to Ahuang’s observations, the crossing might continue expanding—eventually, the two stars might fully merge into one.

At noon, Xu Houlang brought good news: the court had ruled—Shao Chengjing was sentenced to five years in prison.

Without hesitation, Sun Ze strapped the shoulder guard on, shook his shoulders, satisfied, then turned to examine the next piece of equipment.

The ghost servant seemed to find the temptation insufficient and added: “More importantly, at that point, you’ll be identical to other cultivators—yet you’ll also possess a King Artifact Body. Isn’t that an immense advantage?”

“That man is unusual—I can’t say exactly how, it’s just a gut feeling,” said the tall, thin man seriously.

But he suddenly remembered the Daoist of the Youyuan Immortal Mansion—Youyuan True Person. His cultivation was undeniably powerful, his talent far superior to his own. Yet even such a genius had failed to gain the Demon-Sealing Stele’s recognition—what made him think he deserved it? What did he have worth recognizing?

Golden light, pure and luminous as lapis, mingled with noble, ever-shifting dark-gold demonic flames, shattering and drifting through the air like countless stars, falling like a shower of blossoms—graceful, fleeting, poetic, painterly, breathtakingly beautiful.