Chapter 267

Make a Jin Dan cultivator the team leader?

Including Yan Nanfeng, the heads of the academies all looked hesitant.

It's not that Feng Geng's talent is poor—it's just that no matter how good the talent, his cultivation base is still insufficient.

Yan Nanfeng was about to speak, but the Sect Master interrupted him again:

"We're going to challenge with swords, not to kill. Why need such high cultivation?"

Yan Nanfeng was left speechless.

The Sect Master continued: "You've all grown too accustomed to comfort, afraid that—

Wei Jing struggled to move, but her limbs were pinned; she could only watch helplessly as one by one, lecherous men reeking of foul odor, their yellow teeth bared, crept closer to her, utterly unfazed by her gaze, kissing her lips and biting wildly.

Gu Baoshan saw Gu Qingliang peeking around; he had said all he needed to say in the past, so he dismissed Gu Qingyun.

That night, the imperial palace was lit up brightly; Chu Xu, attended by servants, had already changed into a bright yellow dragon robe embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons, its mandarin collar, dragon claws, and cuffs all woven with gold thread—the most luxurious dragon robe ever worn by any emperor.

The tale of releasing a dragon into the heavens had been circulating for years since Liang Shanbo's death; countless people had already heard it, making the story of "the young county magistrate marrying a spirit bride" especially captivating.

He thought, unusually humorous, that of course the cat's gaze was just his own eye strain from spending too long typing during the day.

"My old man's still full of vigor—he can eat two bowls of rice in one sitting!" Li Er grinned, his mouth stretched wide.

"It's fine," An Zeyi said, his face unusually devoid of smile, expressionless entirely.

Chu Cangyan's gaze turned again to the distance, where figures began to emerge, supporting one another, their faces uniformly pale and yellowish—clearly the result of years without sunlight and malnutrition.

When Princess Lanling delicately asked if there were any men's clothes for her escorting general, the concubine paused slightly, glanced at them with a strange expression, then nodded and stepped out.

But Luo Xingchen's spiritual sense was astonishing; when spread out, it could cover several kilometers… especially with the cultivation of the Divine Control Scripture, his spiritual sense not only had immense spatial range… but more importantly, it naturally carried devastating offensive power—power ineffective against the physical body, targeting only spiritual sense.

"But isn't he now Grand General Sima Shen?" Ye Jinyan looked puzzled at the man.

After taking a deep breath, Wu Ze ignored the broadcast announcement and walked straight up to the corpse to begin his examination.

Ye Jinyan sneered inwardly—wasn't that true? But he simply hadn't found any solid evidence.

"I don't know. My dad said he took me away after my mom passed away." Qiya Na looked disappointed; she had never known what her family was like.

Ye Jinyan sighed lightly, sat down, and sipped some cold tea to calm himself; the words Qu Jin had spoken had eased his concerns.

Hearing Wu Ze say that, Qian Xu turned back, glanced at the frightened singer, and nodded with a smile.

After several attempts, Fu Hua indeed retracted her ability; watching Fu Hua from afar, Emperor Emperor's lips curled into a stiff smile.

Was she really that unattractive? Why did men keep rejecting her—one, two, always the same.

The Emperor stood tall and majestic, arms outstretched; Imperial Consort Feng, clad in a thin red silk robe, barefoot, was dressing him in a bright yellow dragon robe adorned with nine-clawed golden dragons, the dragon's eyes embroidered with such lifelike precision they mirrored the Emperor's chilling gaze, making me dare not raise my eyes to meet his.

Zhu Rongrong, lost in thought on a rock, was startled by a sudden scream from behind—Li Ming—and angrily began to wrestle with him.

For she had finally discovered the truth: every joint on the blue-spotted salamander had been pinned in midair by Li Naixin with countless spiral-patterned, cone-shaped spatial spikes! Just its ten-meter tail alone bore over a hundred such spikes—almost one every meter.