Chapter 811

One Hundred Fifty-Seven: The Man Who Cannot Be Defeated?

Deep within the Yunmeng Sword Marsh, an island shrouded in mist.

Inside a grand hall atop one of the mountain peaks.

The atmosphere was somewhat silent.

Figures of women sat in rows.

Speaking of it, the hall’s interior was peculiar: besides rows of chairs placed in the center, a sudden wall stood at the rear, adorned with numerous translucent plaques faintly inscribed with ancient characters.

Whenever someone entered the hall from outside, the fierce wind atop the peak seized upon...

Deep within the Yunmeng Sword Marsh, an island shrouded in mist.

Inside a grand hall atop one of the mountain peaks.

The atmosphere was somewhat silent.

Figures of women sat in rows.

Speaking of it, the hall’s interior was peculiar: besides rows of chairs placed in the center, a sudden wall stood at the rear, adorned with numerous translucent plaques faintly inscribed with ancient characters.

Whenever someone entered the hall from outside, the fierce wind atop the peak seized upon...

“I’m not in a hurry. If you don’t want it, leave it be. Withdraw!” The newcomer replied indifferently, gesturing to those behind him before vanishing in a flash.

With this protection, even if he couldn’t withstand the numerous mutated creatures upon landing, he could still escape!

“Why such a grand bow?” Emperor Yuanzong cast a glance at Eunuch Jin, who hurriedly smiled and helped the man to his feet.

“The Sword Tomb is fraught with peril—we should cooperate.” Dong Qisheng spoke with confidence; they had just survived a near-fatal ordeal and now had no choice.

Lu Youzhi acted with exceptional efficiency, selecting over a hundred officials within the former Liang territory within just ten days and dispatching them to various commanderies to temporarily maintain daily affairs.

Lu Sheng shook his head; he now understood the cause, course, and outcome of the matter, and the old man would likely not commit violence again.

Zhang Yan focused his attention on Xuanbing, then noticed Wang San Shao and the Demon Spirit both watching him.

“Mother, today the Lady of Changning Marquis came to the mansion to propose a match for Wan Yan—she suggested the third young master of the Xinguo Public House, Yuan Chenyi.” Liu Yanjun sat below, respectfully addressing the matriarch seated in the main seat: though her hair was entirely white, it was combed with perfect precision; though her face was lined with wrinkles, her eyes remained sharp.

In the blink of an eye, ten days passed. On the Great Bamboo Peak of Qingyun Sect, all disciples were elated, their faces beaming with smiles; though some felt a trace of nervousness, it was drowned in overwhelming excitement.

Moreover, since you’ve joined the Flying Fish Guard, your former names are discarded. From now on, you shall be known by your fruit abilities.

Three months passed in waiting. Not only did Can Yin not emerge, but not a single one of the thirty-odd Venerable-level experts who entered one after another had returned—not even Can Yin, a Tier-One Heaven Realm cultivator. A strange unease stirred in their hearts.

At this moment, Ye Shanhe’s shock was beyond measure. Yet when he recalled Xia Haoran’s mysterious cultivation and methods, everything suddenly seemed perfectly natural.

As a mid-stage Heavenly Rank ancient martial artist, Old Ning naturally sensed the difference within Tingyu Pavilion. But when he recalled his first meeting with Xia Haoran, all of it became perfectly normal.

When the final thread vanished, the two jade slips had already bathed the surroundings in a sea of red, beginning to tremble slowly—as if something within was drawing them.

“Damn it!” Uncle Li blurted out. Immediately, a chorus of “thuds” echoed as everyone in the courtyard—whether working or watching—collapsed unconscious.

Xing’er glared at her. “Aren’t you afraid your father will scold you now?” The moment she spoke, she regretted it—why had she brought up her father at this very moment?

When Xia Haoran arrived at the school auditorium, Ma Zhe and the others, having been notified in advance, were already waiting eagerly.

The auction inside the tent continued, prices rising steadily; what had once been raised in increments of twenty thousand taels was now being raised by ten thousand. The man who bid forty-seven thousand sat not far from Wang Haoming.

Laughter came from outside the room; Xuedai and Tianhou called Xiangye to dinner, saying they had prepared a medicinal dish to nourish yin and strengthen yang.