Chapter 121

The line sounded awfully familiar… Lin Mo rubbed his chin, watching Pan Peng's smug expression, and said nothing in rebuttal.

The immortal vessel glided twice above the Sword Discussion Peak, then slowly descended to the docking pier halfway up the mountain.

"Other peaks place their piers halfway up because it's more convenient and avoids offending each academy's sensibilities—only Sword Discussion Peak can't dock here because the peak's sword qi is too intense for any vessel to land."

Pan Peng led Lin Mo down from the immortal vessel.

"Dear Sand, are you sure you want to help that damned necromancer?" The demon summoned by Yan Fei roared furiously, his flaming scythe swinging wildly—nearly slashing Yan Fei, who dodged just in time, leaping aside to watch the spectacle, narrowly avoiding injury.

Her black mist flickered in and out; she let out a shriek and collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony. The more she rolled, the more rain clung to her, and thick plumes of black smoke rose from her body.

When this thought first surfaced in Lu Qingyu's mind, he himself was startled by its absurdity—who could possibly possess such power, conjuring a space of such immense scale by sheer will? If such ability existed, wouldn't it far surpass the Left Minister's strength, rendering one invincible?

"I can bear it; don't worry." Su Meimei had no strength left to hold herself up, completely collapsed into Yan Fei's arms. Though pain twisted her brows, her face, resting softly against his chest, radiated contentment.

Knowing the urgency, Mi Duo didn't waste words—he dashed into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and floored the accelerator, the car lurching forward at full throttle.

"Yes, she fears our son. Our son's golden eyes will surely find every person who harmed his mother—and exact revenge." Hua Jian's voice was sharp, her movements decisive, her challenge direct as she advanced toward the Base God.

Between us, infinite possibilities always exist, and through our bickering and reconciling, I think this must be fate's own design.

Wang Qiang paid no mind—he flew straight onto the stage. Not out of bravado, but because if he didn't climb up, too many would look down on him. Others didn't matter, but now his third senior brother had arrived—he couldn't lose face.

For some reason, seeing her expression made Qi Chengwu and the others feel a chill crawl through their bones; fear spread through their hearts, creeping into their limbs.

Because no matter when, she always managed to cause absurd, laughable chaos in ways no one could predict.

Before she could even react, everything had been utterly overturned.

I have to admit that Mu Tiankuang sees things very clearly; later, he would realize that his guess today was truly spot-on.

After the meal, everyone around was stunned, and the live-streaming diner gained over a million followers in an instant.

Qi Tian regained some strength, noticed many people staring at him, and realized this method, though effective, was far too conspicuous—he grabbed Ji Zilan and hurried downstairs.

Liè Yàn, who had observed all this as if seeing nothing, sat at the table in a pale moon-white robe, black hair cascading to her waist, one hand holding a white jade cup, sipping tea with calm deliberation, utterly ignoring the man's pitiful screams.

Then, impatient with her slowness, he suddenly lifted her, leapt forward in a few bounds, and shot up to the dome's peak.

Liu Qingyi drank several more cups; the alcohol rose in her, loosening her tongue, and she asked about the people and scenes she'd seen upstairs.

But when Cai Yan sat down and called them "sisters," Chun Qin and the others couldn't sit still—their master treated them harshly, yet the mistress, who should have been their sworn enemy, was so affectionate? These two were completely reversed—could this amnesia be contagious?