Chapter 120: Because Love Does Not Easily Grieve

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Yun Ze furrowed his brow, using a wooden plank from the table as a hammer; together with the Wanquan tribe’s poet, he re-nailed the three bloodied bodies to the ceiling with the same nails.

As he hammered, Yun Ze’s heart grew increasingly shaken.

These nails are fucking long!

No wonder they can pin something this heavy to the wall.

But when Wu Wang pulled them out earlier—

He didn’t use any tools at all!

“Looks like you’re pretty confident in your strength, handsome?” said the white-haired man in a soft, effeminate tone.

Each person who had earlier pitied Qiao Menglu now looked at her with utter contempt.

Previously, Huo Lao and He Lao might have shared Qin Feifei’s doubts, but after seeing her earlier exam paper, they suddenly developed unwavering confidence in her.

Ren Qiancang and I returned to our courtyard; I didn’t want to sleep, since I’d woken only at noon today. Ren Qiancang couldn’t sleep either—he was still thinking about the well in the bamboo grove.

In that instant, I remembered the old man’s agonized, nearly weeping face from last night. I didn’t know what they’d hidden from him, turning a strong, vigorous elder into this broken shell within half a month. In just these two days, the old man had been utterly drained, brought to his knees.

Yi Rui, seeing the large cart about to leave, rushed out in desperation. The guard waved his hand, and two others dragged Yi Rui back into the courtyard, slamming the gate shut. Heart pounding with panic, she had no choice but to consult Yun Er; they pondered and planned until nightfall, finding no solution.

The Demon Lord opened his mouth to speak, but upon hearing Shi Hua’s words, he was so terrified he nearly collapsed to his knees—he raised his massive hand and slapped Shi Hua flying.

Unfortunately, this man couldn’t be used; the master had forbidden any relationship with him—even holding hands was not allowed. Such a man could only be admired, never touched—it was a torment to her heart.

An Mo Ran didn’t trust Qi Mingye as deeply as Gu Qianqian did; she only worried whether Qi Mingye intended to enjoy the pleasures of two women.

Then she turned and headed toward the doctor’s office; today’s results were under close watch by all parties, so the hospital had made special arrangements with a dedicated physician to receive her.

Ling Hao instantly thought of many things. He had to admit, the value of the information he gained from conversing with Tian Chan Immortal—a fellow native of Earth from fifty thousand years ago—was nearly as precious as directly receiving the inheritance. Though it was only a fragment of a divine soul’s memory, he had gained far more than he expected.

He walked out of the hospital with casual steps, casually flagged down a taxi at the entrance, and gave the driver the hotel’s name.

Brown rats—their appearance drove the remaining Qie people into retreat. They frantically scavenged the giant beast’s remains, snarling and shrieking at each other. Only one did not join—the old rat, its fur now white. It watched them silently, as if observing, as if pondering.

Then came the floor; Huang Gaoxiang fetched cleaning supplies and carefully wiped away the blood.

I am a sluggish machine, lost on the battlefield, stumbling into a factory whose purpose I didn’t know.

Neither had any intention of discussing business; soon, Lin Xueyin excused herself due to discomfort and left. Shortly after, the man emerged, muttering curses. The potential collaboration, of course, fell through.

Tao Ran halted, startled—he had come here quietly, his footsteps making no sound at all. How did she know? And she was asleep; he hadn’t misheard her breathing.

“If that’s so, why did you come to save me? I know you despise the filth of the demon race and loathe human hypocrisy.” Hua Xi steadied her emotions; only by asking could she find peace.