Chapter 213

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Each thudding sound from his chest made Wu Wang's face paler.

It wasn't the sound of a heartbeat.

It was the sound of his heart shattering.

Within mere seconds, Wu Wang died of heart failure several times.

Fortunately, since the problem was internal, other players at a distance noticed nothing unusual.

They could only see him standing motionless, gasping for breath.

「

Any sentient spirit—whether a tree spirit, sword spirit, or other artifact spirit—like humans, desires a name. They may choose their own, but most hope their master will name them.

"Nan-ge, let's go, it's too cold," the bald kid pulled his jacket tighter; the yacht had vanished into the deep sea, and the brilliant searchlight had disappeared into the thick night.

After much coaxing and persistence, Liu Qingqing obtained Wang Mu's phone number and left satisfied, wearing only Wang Mu's shirt and underwear to go eat.

Though the surroundings were dotted with hills, one stood out as significantly taller. According to Xiao Meiniang, this hill was called Holy Mother Peak, the heart of the Holy Mother Sect's doctrine and its center of rule.

The banner was hoisted high, its faint red spots and countless holes drawing immediate attention. Sunlight streamed through the gaps, resembling brilliant stars. The banner itself was a sky, and the light flooding through the holes formed a silver river.

Su Zeming accepted it, nodded, and turned to leave—when Chen Yu suddenly felt an explosion in his chest like thunder.

The Lu Daoist continued grinding herbs; seeing insufficient hands, he simply shooed Mo'er and Bingxiang over to help.

"Damn it," Scarface Bald spat. The undead near the wall had suffered almost no casualties; the militiamen's spears, thrown haphazardly, inflicted little damage—only a few undead clustered together had been skewered like candied haws, and hits to the head were negligible.

Under his overwhelming aura, no one present dared speak in protest—not even the burly old man who dared question him could utter a single word.

Diao San cursed loudly, grabbed a basket, and turned back. The green-clad guards followed closely, but this time, no flattery echoed behind him.

As for the big exam six months from now… well, one could only fight with all one's might and leave the rest to fate.

"Wake up, wake up, the sun's on your butt!" Director Lü Liang shouted through a loudspeaker outside the guesthouse; allowing them a nap during filming was unheard of—no director had ever been kinder.

In truth, she had already believed Zheng Tiansen's words by seventy or eighty percent without verification, simply because she understood those children too well.

Gazing afar, a towering, precipitous cliff pierced the clouds. Upon it rested a giant bird's nest, hundreds of zhang in size.

Hidden behind the massive coffin, Xu Chuan revealed only half his head, fixing his gaze on the main tomb's entrance. He sensed hostile energy surging toward him—this hostile aura carried a chilling, sinister quality, like the demonic race energy Ao Hai had described.

Huangze Lake was an immense body of water, boundless and vast. Beside it stretched the endless Huangze Mountains.

Fang Zihuai consistently attended to her with diligence, sending waves of warmth through Ye Xiaojiao's heart, making the long journey feel less unbearable.

When he heard her affection for him was so shallow, Huo Tinghan's anger flared.

"Oh? You got the token too?" Since even the three True Lords of the Divine Eye Clan couldn't stop him inside Jiumengzhou, Yang Hao couldn't help but speak up.

Pei Xiuyuan watched every movement of Yun Juan with rapt curiosity; Bai Tian Tian even noticed his hand unconsciously mimicking Yun Juan's rhythmic oar strokes.