Chapter 445

“Good!” Xia Daoming’s face broke into a faint smile; he flipped his palm and a Spirit-Binding Tablet appeared.

Chains shot out from the Spirit-Binding Tablet, encircling Ji Wu Feng’s spectral neck and dragging it back into the tablet.

“First, heal your injuries—don’t leave any lingering damage. Then, when the time is right, take this elixir and break through to Nascent Soul late-stage as soon as possible.” After sealing a strand of Ji Wu Feng’s life-soul, Xia Daoming casually tossed over two elixir vials.

One vial contained

“The palace already has talented musicians and performers—we’re afraid we can’t compare to you!” Fu Liu wore an uneasy expression.

His bulging eyes watched the sweat drip like beads—still a failure… He was timid, afraid, terrified that the Phoenix would truly destroy his Life Palace and Destiny Pattern. He didn’t know what the Life Palace and Destiny Pattern meant—but he knew this would affect his entire life.

In short, he had done something he would forever regret, using Mu Nianqing’s case to vent his emotions.

“How are you? Is your injury alright?” Cao Tongxuan’s beautiful eyes showed concern as she asked softly.

According to He Meng’s introduction, the entire Divine Realm Tournament consisted of two competitions: the simplest elimination round, and finally, the ranking match.

The Two-Phase Formation and Xisuo fought together against Yu Zhi Bo, each side trading blows, displaying their full strength, battling for half the day—yet neither gained any clear advantage.

She looked up and met the man’s beautiful face—so refined and elegant, making her feel deeply inferior.

Ye Lan Chen’s eyes darkened slightly; his lips pressed thin. He said nothing—he had known she wouldn’t believe him.

“My lord, I’m Luo Zifeng—Luo the Camel, carrying his son on his back,” Luo Zifeng said to Liansheng with a pretend solemn expression.

“Seek… death!” With a curled lip, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade suddenly erupted with terrifying momentum.

The eagle Guan Juwo, as a man of the Jianghu, saw only friends or enemies. Death—perhaps Guan Juwo had long considered it, and had grown quite resigned to it—but why did Guan Juwo feel this way?

Saying this, Tian Yi shut his eyes, face set for death, raised his palm, and brought it down hard—*crack!*—but the blow never landed. His palm stopped just shy of his face, mere fractions of an inch away.

Ren Wenqiu leapt onto a plum tree, gazing out—beneath the branches, the plum limbs swayed gently, but the black-clothed man had vanished.

And she had always been sincere with her friends—if Situ Haoyu needed help, she would assist him without hesitation.

At this moment, the plum blossoms had not yet bloomed, lacking their usual brilliance—but Tian Ming walked beside him and smiled gently, for she felt her mother was nearby.

Mo Langyue stood rigid, back pressed against the cold stone wall—the chill seeped through his clothes straight into his spine—yet in his arms he held the princess, burning hot as a furnace. Both had drunk wine, yet he felt no such intense heat. Was it because this wine stirred only with emotion? Or because he had drunk less?

The luxurious carriage carried the two back to Dong Zhuo’s mansion. As soon as they arrived, Dong Zhuo eagerly scooped up Diaochan’s supple body and staggered toward his chambers.

Seeing that Qingzhu and Yediao were of no use, Chu Yang fell silent in the carriage, his mind turning over solutions to several problems.

Cheng Lingzhi always preferred simplicity—her room contained nothing but a wardrobe, a dressing table, and a bed. Though the room was never large, it still looked unusually empty at a glance.

After much effort, she finally found the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she saw it was empty—Cheng Lingzhi’s face turned black in an instant. Was she really going to starve on her first day in America?

“I’m already in your hands—what are you afraid of? I’m older, sure, but I want to retire and spend more time with my family. I’m not ready to die so soon,” George waved his hand.