Chapter 815

“Uncle Huang is a man who lacks decorum for his age—but I don’t mean that as an insult. In fact, when I was being vilified by a group of media people, it was Uncle Huang who calmed me down and stood by my side.”

On the television screen, Zhou Yi, dressed in a purple-patterned Armani custom suit, recalled the past as host Chen Baixiang asked him: “He said he was old enough now that he no longer needed to care about much, but I’m different—I’m still young.”

Skilled

The blade glinted with cold light in the night, razor-sharp—if it came down, Ye Chen’s arm would likely be severed halfway.

For Pei Jue’s sudden appearance, the boy simply uttered a few words, setting aside this unexpected opportunity.

Now, Second Master Zhu was both stunned and furious; the crushing disappointment and rage of rushing desperately only to miss it left his face twitching.

“Madam, do you still remember what I said this morning?” Gu Huaiyuan seized Mu Qinghuan’s restless hand.

Emperors emerge from mountains of corpses and seas of blood; their reflexes, or rather, their battle experience, are peerless.

Dragon qi swirled thickly, brimming with essence, like a paradise on earth. Above the heavens, drops of sweet dew fell one after another; a spiritual waterfall appeared, cascading down ten-thousand-zhang peaks.

But Huang Wangyou did not give up; unless he perished on this Earth, as long as Xu Qingqiong stepped one foot outside this sacred mountain’s forbidden zone, he would never abandon his quest to kill this enemy who had slain his son.

But the noise grew louder—he finally realized it came from beneath the ground. He quickly pressed his ear to the earth, listening intently; beneath him were sounds of digging and voices speaking. He suddenly understood—the British were tunneling.

The Soul-Whipping Technique resembled a human cultivation method, yet though her comprehension was mediocre, she seemed uniquely gifted when wielding a whip.

The wealthy young master was already terrified, even panicked—this was not what he wanted; he was losing his composure.

Just as Lei Li and the others entered this world, a four-headed dragon, three zhang tall, leapt before them. Wu Yan laughed heartily: “Son, long time no see!” Guai Guai was ecstatic, wagging his tail and licking Wu Yan’s body.

Li Qiu, who had been gazing around in awe at the city’s beauty, froze upon hearing Master Tengmu’s words; his face, filled with wonder, slowly tightened.

“Senior Lin, you… puh!” This cry came from Tang Xin, filled with bitter resentment—he only now realized how foolish he had been, tricked by the green-robed cultivator into becoming his lackey; this was an indelible humiliation.

Li Qiu adjusted his flat, transparent glasses—this was his only disguise for going out shopping today; such a simple pair of flat, transparent glasses made him nearly unrecognizable to anyone who didn’t know him.

“Shoes?” Mu Ziqiu looked down at his white canvas shoes, seeing nothing unusual.

Originally, the Qing Dynasty’s Eight Banners Army was an extremely formidable and battle-hardened force, nearly invincible during their conquest of the pass, earning glorious military feats for the Qing—but less than a generation later, they had lost the fierce, heroic spirit of their ancestors.

Then came Lei Li’s summoned whale, which swung its tail and crashed thunderously into the sea.

The symbol of the Bull Star Palace is a low-bowing, muscular ox, its two long, pointed horns appearing deadly.

The four clones of Lei Li did not appear beside the Wolf Emperor, but beside Hui Zi; four astonishing sword beams, each ten zhang long, erupted and slashed toward Hui Zi’s massive body.

Upon hearing Qiu Shaoze’s words, Shang Mengqi felt deeply happy—perhaps this was the true reason he let Su Guxian go.

“Forget that—keep attacking; first eliminate this wave of insectoids,” Zhang Cheng warned Chen Yingxu sharply to focus.