Chapter 87

Carrying a scroll.

Dou Changsheng had the Hero Sword hanging at his waist.

He walked step by step to the front of the third checkpoint, looking up at the towering fortress.

He could see soldiers lined up above, heads surging, with an unknown number of people now all staring at him in unison.

Dou Changsheng’s gaze was sharp, his eyes shifting constantly, already murmuring to himself.

Since his first entry into the Seven Perils Pass, he had sensed something was amiss—these Dongqi...

No matter how dazzlingly Ren Yunluo spoke now, she would never believe her again; the matter of the false Qilin Fruit, she had always kept it in mind, and felt she must keep it there.

“Then what are you skilled in? I need to think about how to teach you,” asked Consort Yan.

She walked to the pile of stones, where Bai Wutong still lay. His face was pale, devoid of any color, sleeping deeply; even as she stood beside him, he showed no sign of awareness. Whenever she thought that he had become this way because of her, guilt surged uncontrollably within her.

“The Black and White Impermanence? Are they still with you? Have they helped you a lot?” She lay on the “bed,” holding her phone, and asked.

Actually, she didn’t know if she was injured; when she fell last night, she had felt nothing but total body pain, unable to move. Later, Song Tianming came and lit a fire for her, and she felt better, slept through till dawn, expecting her spirits to improve—but instead, they had grown worse.

Upon hearing this, Bai Qiong frowned; he naturally had no idea why Ye Muyao bore such an uncanny resemblance to Chi Shuiyao. Ye Muyu was Ye Muyao’s full sister, yet the two shared not the slightest similarity—it was truly strange.

When she emerged again, the striking contours of Shu Man’s upper body were somewhat concealed, yet they did nothing to dull the allure of her firm, graceful curves, still temptingly displayed before his eyes.

“You were already dead,” said the Jade Emperor, who had been hesitating whether to sit down.

Seeing the Fourth Young Master like this, Su Lian couldn’t help but cry again. He wanted to see her—how could she not want the same? But would the Great Aunt really allow her to visit Song Tianming?

“Hey, if you’re not dead, get out of here fast, or that crazy woman will really cut you down.” Ye Yanqing turned back to the man and said.

Young people are always overreaching, arrogant, and love to show off. No reason. It’s just their nature.

Back in his room at the inn, the inn had not yet opened its doors; after a moment of silence, Jing Chuan could only climb back in through the window.

Jing Chuan understood why Lu Yao was so busy—his own legitimate Lu family patriarch had fled, leaving all Lu family affairs squarely on Lu Yao’s shoulders.

With such a powerful figure, if one could befriend him, any future troubles would surely be smoothed over with just a word from him.

Even as he watched the two chase after Lu Jingchuan, Lu Youyin could do nothing, for the one he had to face was Lu Zhimin, a Rank Nine Wang-level cultivator.

One sword slash sent a blood-red wave surging, coalescing into a sword aura that shifted from crimson to dark red. Murong Yang and Shangguan Yue must have sensed the anomaly—they simultaneously crossed their swords, purple and blue energy streams converging to form a magnificent palace.

Your levitation—is it merely aided by the spiritual energy of that signal pistol, or is it a side effect of some spatial artifact?

Zhong Mie and Jia Gu were left at the Yingke Hotel to deal with Xun Mengqi—how could they possibly be mere lackeys?

In the end, Count Burgos Sancho proved the superior, driving Rodrigo into a frantic retreat, cornering him beneath the stairs.

Compared to the combat style of Golden Core disciples, Nascent Soul cultivators are far more flexible, due to the existence of domains.