Chapter 88

7:15 p.m.

Feihe Cinema, Screening Room.

The VIP seats are in the middle section of the screening room, the thirty best viewing spots in the entire theater.

Film critic Liu Jiasheng silently walked into the screening room with the crowd.

That morning, he had watched the premiere of “Heroic Bloodshed.”

In truth, deep down, he was rather disappointed in this film.

From within the black clouds, a massive light orb plummeted, surging with lightning and fire, radiating ten thousand feet of golden light that illuminated the sky.

“Huh…” Chen Yun exhaled a thick breath; at the last possible moment, he roared “Blood Transformation,” and a colossal surge of blood qi shot straight into the heavens, as if infecting the entire white space—the lightning pillar paused for an instant.

But when Chen Zhifan’s hand touched the ghost-filled piggy bank, he was startled and panicked.

Although they all knew they were no match for that guy, this was all they could do now.

“Where are you going to cultivate?” The sudden voice made Changgong freeze—he thought his points were insufficient.

This insane guy had actually crossed my path, and I’d looked down on him, nearly getting into a fight with him—thinking of it now, Wei Xuan swallowed hard, drenched in cold sweat, and looked gratefully at his junior sister Ling’er.

But driving the Wei people away wasn’t their goal—if that were all, what was the point of negotiating at all?

Zhu Que, the Eight-Winged Sword King once famed throughout the martial world, sat slumped on the ground, his face deathly pale, utterly devoid of color, his aura withered and feeble, appearing no different from an old man near death—nowhere near the aura of a peerless expert.

A pale yellow acidic liquid had somehow formed in his hand, instantly corroding the Wood Release to nothing.

“Xinran! Stop fooling around! This is a mall! Fighting here is disgraceful!” Wei Qingcheng tugged at Wei Xinran, who glared resentfully but finally lowered her head.

“Sister Shuxian, our emotional bonding is about done.” Lin Qinghou gently patted Chen Shuxian on the shoulder.

At that moment, the waiter approached Luo Feng to ask what coffee he wanted, breaking the awkward silence.

The Nine-Tails, catching Uchiha Obito’s sword with its right paw, showed no injury or fatigue—on the contrary, it looked relaxed.

“What do you think they went off to do?” Li Qin packed his clothes and asked Li Weiping beside him.

Lin Yudie coldly scanned the people around her; the chill in her eyes made everyone nearby feel a sudden icy shiver—they had seen this expression on Lin Laoda before, but only directed at outsiders. Now it was aimed at their own.

“Yichen?” Xu Lin, filled with rage on the other end, suddenly heard that long-lost gentle voice and froze, her eyes instantly welling up.

As a soldier among soldiers, he naturally mastered these tracking techniques, so he quietly followed behind the van without letting Xiang Lingfeng notice.

Our farmers aren’t lazier than foreign farmers—our country’s farmers are the hardest-working and most enduring in the world.

How could such a hidden underground location be so easily discovered by the Anbu ninja? Orochimaru could never be this careless.

“Young Master, should we remind them about the inn?” Ma Dong asked in a low voice.

Qi Xin brought the Seven Emotions Bell, and Feng Zijun pulled her to a higher grassy slope nearby, where they sat side by side. They looked like they were chatting and playing with the bell. Suddenly, everyone in the valley heard a golden bell chime—the “Shock” tone of the Seven Emotions Heji .

“Zheng zheng…” The old monster’s lips twitched several times; from his mouth immediately came a wailing cry, so miserable it was unbearable, like it came straight from hell—upon hearing it, my whole body broke out in goosebumps.

“Clang clang,” the old demon’s lips twitched several times, and immediately a wailing cry erupted from his mouth—so pitiful it was unbearable, like it came straight from hell, and hearing it sent chills crawling over my skin.