Chapter 162: Second Qi Cultivation! Ji Hongxiu

【・_・?】

Ye Henshui always felt something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what.

Looking at the lively little dog on the ground, he suppressed the urge to pet it and shook his head: "You can't keep up this act much longer—Master will find out eventually. You know better than I do what'll happen then…"

"I know that already."

Gu Manzhi sighed softly.

Now, Master's heart is entirely consumed by revenge, already to

Zhang Dengqing, barely twenty, had symmetrical features; having fought in the martial world for six years, his demeanor was utterly different from his youth, yet his essence remained unchanged. Beside him, Gu Pinghan was as cold as a giant mechanical puppet—even his smile resembled ice. Zhang Dengqing was different: even when his expression was stern, a thread of warmth still lingered.

In just a few dozen breaths, Lu Zhangke, famed throughout the Great Ming, fell to the hands of the four Deputy Commandants of the Zhenfu Bureau.

Hearing this, Niu Hongyao was furious—he immediately called upstairs and blew the lid off everything.

"Husband, we have no ties to the Qin family—why would they tell us anything?" Lin Mei sounded hesitant.

Ruan Xia was truly exhausted; though her Qi could be replenished by the Emperor's Vitality, her physical strength couldn't keep up.

Turning to look, she saw Wu Jingsheng, Prefect of Yuhang, and Gu Dayong, one of the Eight Tigers of the Eastern Depot, arriving in grand style by palanquin.

When Li Feng, clad in white robes, slowly climbed the steps, everyone stared in silence—they had never seen such a terrifying scene.

He then picked up one, muttering incantations as he moved his steps, drawing an X on the ground every few paces.

The demon attacker Marcia—his younger sister was in Jade City, though exactly who she was remained unclear. If Jade City fell, whether he could even find her was uncertain.

At this moment, the uncles who had previously blocked Liu Neng all scattered like startled birds.

"Bold," Jin Peng smiled. "I'll give you ten minutes to decide." He felt he was being too merciful—giving Chu Yang time at all. "If you don't strike after the time's up, don't blame me for being ruthless." Jin Peng spoke with venom.

"Did I say that? You misunderstood. I said if Liu Sheng comes, I won't need the chair to take care of you. I didn't use the chair to hit you just now—I only kicked you with my leg. That's already gentle."

Feng Fan entered the cave dwelling. Though small, its spiritual energy was decent, and it was spotlessly clean. Feng Fan nodded in satisfaction, casually setting up a few simple seals, then flipped his right hand—Tian Hun Pearl appeared in his grasp. With a thought, Wu Xiang Yin Ling emerged.

But Yao Yi had just made a brilliant move, intensifying the struggle between the US and USSR to further drain both nations' strength so he could profit as the bystander—so for this matter, Yao Yi was staying as far away as possible.

Immediately, Tang Cheng returned the Berserker Sword to his backpack among the pile of white gear, and now held in his hand a gleaming longsword, faint lightning flickering intermittently along its blade.

When all the reporters surged toward Han Mingchao's office, all his subordinates froze in shock—after the shock, they began whispering among themselves.

Tang Cheng had just felt the assassin clan's body slip, his sword striking out reflexively—but missed. His heart jolted—then he saw the assassin clan's blade thrust upward from an impossible angle.

She sighed softly without expression, feeling as weightless as down, unable to muster any strength. Slowly lowering her eyelids, she exhaled a long, weary breath, struggling to lift her delicate hand and shake it gently toward Qingyuan.

"That's impossible. Even if I die, I won't agree to you," Shen Jingyi refused outright, her tone decisive.