Chapter 435: Achieving the Great Path of Corpse Liberation, Proving the Supreme Immortal Fruit!

Lin Mo nodded: “According to the dungeon-clearing pattern, this step should exist—but…”

He didn’t finish, but both understood.

We intercepted all the resentment and consumed it entirely.

So this final stage disappeared!

Long A rubbed his chin: “What if… we pour some in?”

To be fair, Lin Mo had thought the same thing.

“But it’s gone already.”

Long A

This wind blows from all directions, irregularly, seeping through wall cracks—and yet the wall material is still bronze. Only the ground beneath our feet, perhaps because we’ve reached the lowest level, has turned to rock.

“Still fine? Then how did you get all these injuries?” Wenwen lifted my arm; the bruised marks on my wrist were instantly exposed.

Night is a time that clouds the mind, especially after she’d just received a call from her brother, supposedly resurrected from death—she was utterly vulnerable.

Thinking of the photo he’d seen that morning, Su Jingchu hesitated, then finally clicked open the file.

I suddenly remembered that rainy day, the day Old Ye was buried—he pinned me against the wall, forcing himself on me, to make me accept this new version of him, to drag me out of my despair.

Mu Dongyou’s stubbornness was no better than that of the ox plowing the field; Mu Zhijun knew better than anyone how he’d ended up here.

Jian Yijun slapped him across the face, leaving him bewildered—but seeing Lin Sujie give him a glance, he swallowed his anger.

I clearly saw Fu Xue’s professionally polite smile freeze for a moment when she saw the photo; I grew curious—what kind of photo was it?

“Don’t you have a pot here?” Ai Qiaoqiao noticed that since entering, she’d seen no cooking utensils.

Everyone understood implicitly—in Shangliushe Society, Ye Zhixing was already infamous.

“Liang Wencun!” Gu Jing finally screamed after Liang Wencun’s retreating back.

I quickly stood up to make room on the sofa for them, sitting on the side single sofa; Zhang Xin and Qiu Xu sat on the dining chairs behind me, while Ni Juan and Chen Yimei took the center seat I’d just vacated.

Qin Yan didn’t want to repeatedly crush Yuan Yuan’s enthusiasm, but the truth was the truth—she could only speak plainly.

On the right palm of Yiyun Immortal, rested a brown, withered stick, about a foot long. It emitted no spiritual energy, showed no miraculous signs—simply lay there quietly, as if detached from the world.

Zhang Xin’s words gave me insight: Lei Xi had long sought to drag me down—not merely to make my life uneasy, but to shift all blame onto me, then strike unexpectedly at the end. Even if Chen Yimei later realized I had nothing to do with it, it would be too late to salvage the situation.

Recalling the words Ji Zibai and Su Nian had just spoken, Su Nian sensed something was off.

So this was a secret chamber—but the twists and turns inside made it impossible to tell where the real exit lay.

I suddenly understood, but the words were already out—and She Nanyang was a regular here. If he knew and still brought us here, he must have intended this. Besides, everyone’s been too busy lately; some relaxation wouldn’t hurt. After all, they’re not my boyfriends—let them be happy.

“Yes, she always finds excuses to delay and let it fade away. What can I do?” Minister Tan shook his head and sighed.

After reaching an agreement, Zhang Xin drove Chen Yimei home; my father and I nearly collapsed on the sofa and slept until the next morning.

Xu Ge’s eyes flickered—he instantly understood Fang Chen’s meaning: Fang Chen intended to infiltrate the Fang household with some Great Xia covert agents disguised as retainers and maids.