Chapter 229: The Doubts Remain Unresolved, the Yi Garden Shrouded in Fog (Combined)

The eight-winged Poison Dragon Serpent's eyes were filled with contempt; it utterly despised Jian Lengkun, but Shen Longxuan's departure had given it pause—so it paid no heed to his leaving.

"What could Sheng Cang possibly do in the Southern Realm? With the Eye Old Man of the Earth Palace there, he can't pull off any tricks—the Eye Old Man is a Martial Saint!" Mu Cang muttered.

Ai Qing's verse put it perfectly: Why are my eyes often filled with tears? Because I love this land so deeply. In this turbulent era, Li Jie gained a deeper understanding of these lines.

At this moment, the Liangtian Immortal's face was grim—he could clearly see the opponent's intent to kill.

For some reason, Shen Jiwei, now a simpleton, instantly recognized his former son-in-law and rushed straight toward Mu Zhen's horse to block it, only to be struck down on the spot by Mu Zhen's men.

The bowl Jin Qing had used for noodles that morning had been sent for forensic analysis; fingerprint and saliva tests confirmed she was Qiao Jia herself. Thinking of this, Liu Xie felt puzzled—what exactly was going on with this person?

Just then, suddenly, blood gushed from all the Norscan warriors and the red-eyed ones, and a massive crimson mist coalesced above Chakeyi's head.

Li Yanan spoke only these words—struck by the Golden Silkworm Sword, her blood shield shattered instantly; the Golden Silkworm Sword pierced through his chest and shot out past Shen Longxuan's shoulder.

Unfortunately, compared to the braid-head, the sister-obsessed one's abilities were just a hair short—and so the braid-head unceremoniously "absorbed" him with his right arm, now liquid-like, then hurled him toward Lin Yun.

As if every muscle, every cell, brimmed with explosive power, the gray currents grew increasingly violent with the operation of the Mingguijue, and behind him, a colossal spectral figure wearing a crown emerged.

"Senior, you worry too much. I merely wished to fulfill my duty as host and repay your kindness today in rescuing me—what other ambitions could I possibly harbor?" Master Fusheng hurriedly explained.

"If one day heaven and earth lose their boundaries, my waiting is… the promise that a star becomes a meteor…" Xie Wanxuan's songs were mostly lyrical ballads; the fans in the stadium swayed their glow sticks in unison to the rhythm.

An hour later, everyone boarded two vans heading toward Qingpu, planning to detour into the city and leave no trace for the police.

Vashupati I inherited the traditions and governance methods of his predecessors, revering Buddhism, building numerous temples and stupas, while also erecting villas and statues everywhere—everything was extravagantly lavish, as if that were the height of achievement.

Upon hearing this, all were stunned; they forgot their squabbles and immediately began discussing how to resist Yan Liang's army.

Passing through the gate, the scene suddenly brightened—inside the Emperor Shi's tomb, it was not dark at all, resembling a vast hall, yet before them appeared a massive mural.

Gong Jinchou glanced at him gratefully. Most of the Hengchu Sect's disciples were newcomers with shallow cultivation; apart from the sect master, Gong Jinchou had reached the late Nascent Soul stage. His two disciples beside him were at the early Nascent Soul stage; the rest were still stuck at Golden Core.

Xu Shu turned pale with alarm, rushed forward to support the trembling old lady, his eyes filled with urgency, frantically calling for maids to help her retire to the back.

"A dragon returns from the north, turning its palm to summon rain, flipping it to summon clouds," Zhao Chonglou sang a tuneless, rambling melody, swaying his head.

Powerful streams of demonic energy surged into the sky; Fei's expression changed drastically—she recalled the moment when Qingwei had absorbed demonic energy and nearly perished. Was this scene about to repeat itself?

I paid no attention to Li Min's frantic anxiety—it was Song Honghong's arrival that snapped me out of it; yet when I entered the clinic, a police car arrived as well.

Though being beaten earlier had felt incredibly satisfying, it didn't mean he'd lost his memory. Now recalling his past actions, Wang Shoucai wished he could crawl into a crack in the ground.

When his eyes regained sight, he felt nothing unusual—as if nothing had ever happened.

"Why are you asking about this? Who told you?" Ning Dajun froze mid-bite, chopsticks suspended, his gaze going distant at the mention of Ningjiawu.

"When forming the united government, we'll grant the Hemeng tribe a seat and let you participate in governance—will that be enough to bring you out of the deep forests?" He Zhong said.

Mingyue didn't dare delay; after bowing deeply to see off the King of Zhao, he entered the Empress Dowager's chamber and found her also angry. Seeing Mingyue return, she pulled him close, sighing and complaining about King Dan's "lack of filial piety."

Mingyue looked around and noticed most of the vessels were ceramic, revealing that the sorcerer Xu Ping was poor and couldn't afford better bronze ware.

"Then how did the handkerchief become Yue Jier's?" Qi Shi's voice rose, her face still skeptical.

"I think I've emphasized this many times—before entering, you must knock first. Do you not knock when entering other departments?" Fei Zhuohan's irritated voice echoed through the office.

Just now, I actually considered cooperating with such a mindless fool—was I insane?

He was originally a villager from the suburbs of Dongling City; his father was a farmer, his mother worked at a nearby textile factory—in short, their family was considered happy by village standards.

Though the Hundred Beasts True Man had appeared, his eyes were vacant, not uttering a word, as if a puppet—and the black-robed Daoist grew even more agitated.

"Sigh…" Qian Dong sighed helplessly; perhaps cultural perspectives differed—though she had long anticipated Freido's thinking, she couldn't help but sigh…

"The Investigation Bureau agents will arrive in about five minutes—get ready to explain to them." Yang Jiarui sneered at Zhao Yaxin's mother.

"My three questions are done. Your answers satisfy me. Now it's time to receive the inheritance." The Red Fox Sword Master walked toward Chen Yu, speaking as he approached.

Zhou Niannian blinked, sharply noticing Guan Ping's gaze fixed on her face—there was a hint of scrutiny, a trace of recollection, leaving her momentarily uncertain.