Chapter 443: Lin Mo

Ten Thousand Swords Tomb, thirty-three layers.

Endless desert sands obscured the sky, the howling gale stinging their faces.

“Clang clang clang…”

Dozens of sword demons suddenly burst from the dust, lunging at the sword cultivators.

“Thunder Summoning!”

“Shatter Kill Technique!”

“Crane Shadow Slash!”

“…”

The sword attendants, seasoned veterans, drew their outer swords and formed ranks, meeting the assault head-on.

“R-Professor Ren?” Even Lü Jiameng, accustomed to being the elder brother, lost some of his composure before him, only regaining his voice after a long pause.

The imperial concubine and eunuchs inside were stunned, never expecting Zhou Yi to burst in at this moment.

When the late emperor passed, he had no intention of mourning like other officials and noble youths in the capital. So after receiving the grim news and leaving, he planned to find an excuse to linger in Western Capital, escaping the outwardly glittering, inwardly corrupt Eastern Capital.

He wanted to cut his wages slightly, but since Zhou Zhen had recommended him, the steward Zhai didn’t want to offend Zhou Yun’s face—he figured he might as well absorb the cost himself; once the courtyard was repaired, he might even gain favor with the master.

So last night he clearly understood, yet deliberately twisted it—why? No, he must have had some motive.

His palm, cold against his own wrist bone, pressed lightly—either unwilling or unable to exert force, the touch so faint it ached in the heart.

Du Jiu always carried two gold ingots in his arms; they were digging into him now, but he was too lazy to move, enduring it all the way to the Taiyi Hall.

“I always knew what kind of person she was.” Han Yue forcefully cracked every joint in his body, brutally cutting off the topic of tonight.

To truly raise Big-Face Cat, daily tasks require not only purchasing Great Restoration Pills but also an additional ten thousand gold coins—meaning you’d need at least two hundred diamonds.

Suppressing the thought in his heart, Su Shi took a deep breath, regained his focus, gestured for him to pull the stool closer, and continued explaining patiently.

Lin Wei had just stepped out when thousands waited outside the hotel, shouting his name.

“Too many adjectives—I’ll digest them slowly later.” Shen Bu Hui mentally cursed Yin Yu, but still needed him to like him—better to let it go.

Many goods were still being unloaded at the port, many merchant ships, many laborers earning money by unloading cargo.

“I once moved forward, accepting the emptiness of my past. But now I increasingly feel those things belonged to me—I must reclaim them,” Mu Xia said.

Yin Yu was at Mu Xia’s Sihe Academy; since the bar was busy at night, he sometimes came here after work to help Mu Xia.

Though the Celestial Fox’s strength was inferior to Ye Bai Kui, it far surpassed the top-grade Grand Masters atop the city walls.

Seeing Zhang Tuo Hai say nothing, Hai Ge and the others dared not speak either; they were new to Feiyue’s faction, their carriage different from others’, and along the way they’d endured countless sneers, nearly coming to blows several times.

Xiao Heng had originally refused—the Flowing Cloud Waterfall was far from the capital, and Jin Tong was unwell; he feared the carriage’s jolts.

Taiyi Zi himself, though at the late stage of the Heavenly Realm, was unknown to all—his cultivation base matched others of the same realm, but his physical strength vastly exceeded theirs by an immense margin.

But charging forward so openly was impossible; Zhang Tuo Hai activated the Mist Generator, enveloping his vehicle in mist, then moved toward the oasis.

In that very instant, hundreds of Tianjian Sect disciples simultaneously formed hand seals; hundreds of radiant, varied flying swords transformed into a dazzling rain of blades, piercing the sky. Dozens of demonic winds simultaneously faltered, dared not linger, instantly shifted forms, rapidly casting spells—the tranquil night sky suddenly erupted with demonic winds.