Chapter 88

Creak.

As the sound echoed, the heavy gate of the third trial slowly opened.

The invisible barrier, its flowing light, dissolved into countless specks, shattering and scattering into the heavens and earth.

As the gate opened, the commander of the third trial moved to descend the wall, but was halted by his deputy, who raised his arm and shook his head: “Proceed with caution.”

“Better to be careful.”

The commander of the third trial, righteous and stern,

“Mommy, check if there are really stars—I want to know if the strategist misses me.” Leo’s eyes clouded with tears.

Therefore, when Lü Tianming saw these people, he immediately recognized their identities.

Sun Wukong heard a wolf’s howl; two wild wolves emerged from the forest, transforming into human forms, their heads still crowned with wolf ears—clearly low-grade wild demons, their transformation incomplete.

The shadow gazed intently at the exquisitely beautiful face illuminated by the lamp, his eyes shadowed with sorrow, yet dominated by longing.

Then a figure dashed into the room; the night was thick, and the interior light dim, so she could barely lift her eyelids to make out who it was.

“Madam, while cleaning upstairs, I heard your phone ringing nonstop.” Li Xianglan descended the stairs and handed her the phone.

“Idiot, you almost caused a disaster!” the warrior called Big Brother growled; as one of the Level-D warriors of the “Trial Squad,” he’d broken into a cold sweat moments earlier, unable to discern Lü Tianming’s cultivation level.

A Shui frantically grabbed the Wood Walker’s ankle: “Why do you have to…”—but at that moment, the Wood Walker’s foot slipped, kicking straight toward A Shui’s chest.

“What’s there to see? Separation is fate; no need for attachment,” Luo Hou said, expressionless.

The three beds seemed separated by some unseen force—no matter how close one approached, they could not get nearer, and nothing else appeared abnormal.

“I’d like to show you the financial reports of Hai Rui Entertainment over recent years,” Shen Hao smiled faintly, playing the PPT as he explained.

Ye Feng immediately told Guo Chaoran and the others about the Ji family’s treasure and shared his deductions.

In the pitch-black outskirts, moonlight bathed the land; Ye Ming walked step by step toward his target, each step heavy as a thousand jin, leaving shallow, even footprints on the ground.

Yet in that gaze, a faint trace of grievance and accusation lingered—subtle, yet unmistakable.

He needed to research materials on Zhang Sanfeng, Yangming Gong, Daoist cultivation, and the Ming Dynasty. In the blood-resin amber, this man’s lingering memories within Wu Ziyu contained many details about the Ming; Wu Ziyu wished to cross-reference them with official histories.

“No, no need to be polite,” Wei Meng quickly waved her hand, her cheeks warming under Tong Ran’s radiant smile.

Hua Wudao didn’t even glance at the people of Panlong City—he rode the Crimson Lotus to pursue Ye Feng and Yao Guang, flames raging wildly in his wake.

The sarira was actually inside Wu Ziyu’s Qiankun Ring; he was lying outright, but he had to lie—because this lie was meant for Xu Aojun.

As the saying goes, too many words invite mistakes; what he’d just said was enough to make this suspicious Prince mull it over for hours. Fearing unintended consequences, she knew she’d won her gamble.

The righteous path of humanity endures through change; evil can never triumph over justice. After five years of government suppression, the mortal enemies who had once waged blood-feud warfare against Mu Bangguo were utterly eradicated, allowing Mu Bangguo to return home.

Many of the meridians were severed, tangled chaotically together; spiritual energy leaking from the broken meridians clashed and repelled one another.

Though it was but a fleeting glimpse, slower cultivators might have seen only a blur of crimson; yet with Huang Qing’s sharp vision, even that instant’s glance revealed every detail clearly.