Chapter 108: Snowflakes of Wuliang Wash the Iceheart; Green Plums Never Defeat a Heavenly Arrival

This hall was large and elaborately decorated, originally meant for banquets at the Mantuo Manor.

Only two tables stood in the hall; Zhao Ti sat above, and Wang Yuyan softly asked, “Your Highness, are there no others?”

Zhao Ti shook his head: “Poetry and song—no guests invited.”

Wang Yuyan glided forward on delicate steps and sat at the lower table: “Your Highness, do you often compose verses?”

Zhao Ti smiled: “I’ve trained in martial arts since childhood, never cared for books—wielded spears and clubs, never penned a line.”

Watching the high monk place the ashes inside, lining the bottom with incense, candles, and paper ingots, then sprinkling in some boiled grains, he muttered something incomprehensible.

Quan Mo’s breathing grew heavier, yet he uttered not a word, lying still as his chest rose and fell; An Ge lay beside him, clearly feeling his heartbeat thudding fiercely.

A warm embrace wrapped behind her, holding Li Ziyue tightly, adding much-needed warmth to the icy night.

Qing Shui couldn’t help recalling the time with Duanmu Lingshuang on Huaguo Mountain—what he could never forget was the look on her face when she called him “husband.”

The Emperor’s face darkened further; he immediately turned to the Imperial Envoy to demand an explanation.

Most in the room were familiar to He Yan; they nodded to her, and she faintly curled her lips in greeting, took off her coat and handed it to a servant, then walked calmly behind Fu Shenxing, bent slightly to inspect his cards, and without asking his opinion, played a strong card for him.

“You’re fiercely loyal to your lord—the Prince won’t blame you!” she comforted him; had it been her, she might have slain such an ungrateful wretch in one stroke.

They all understood his meaning—this was precisely why they had come to the island to uncover the Old Gods’ secrets. If they could stop this brutal slaughter, the dangers and suffering they endured would be worth it.

He Yan studied him warily; upon closer look, his face was not entirely like that of the assailant—his features were more refined, his features elegant, his gaze calm, his eyes and brows radiating the poise of noble breeding, utterly devoid of malice or cruelty.

An Xia said without hesitation: in Quan Mo’s words, they’d finally gotten rid of that odd one among the children, so everyone’s names could look better.

And wasn’t Jun Hao only cultivating the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth? Why had he suddenly unleashed eight colors of light? What were the three additional forces? Why did she faintly sense an aura above all heaven and earth within them?

As Hei Sa issued the attack order, the commanders of the five escort warships responded nearly simultaneously.

Even the thirteen Spirit Realm experts who knew Chen Zong had a life-saving trump card still felt uneasy.

They recently deployed the Eye of the Sea God and the Giant’s Hammer—two super units—to the U.S., totaling three hundred men, including four top-tier X-class experts.

The entire emerald cold pool boiled, its surface churning like water in a roaring cauldron; at the depths of the swirling vortex, the faint, menacing eyes instantly widened.

The Seventeenth Transformation: Laozi sent forth a fragment of his divine consciousness to be born as a human named Li Er, founding a teaching in the mortal world, known historically as Daoism.

Same battlefield sword technique, devastatingly sharp, but when combined, their strikes drew upon each other’s momentum—each slash at least doubled in power, becoming even more terrifying.

Thus, every security guard working within the Huanghui Shenzhou performed his duties with utmost diligence, terrified that even the slightest oversight might cost him his job.

Ulysses, enraged, let out a bitter laugh, opened his mouth to speak a harsh retort—when Joseph, the Vice President, suddenly grabbed his arm.

“I believe she’ll come to apologize to you, treating you as her own brother-in-law,” she said, embarrassed.

“Location: Xiongbing Lian—Qiangwei. Location confirmed. Path planning initiated.” Liu Qi leapt down, left hand holding Yan, right hand pulling Mo Qinghan, feeling faintly like a winner of the ginseng lottery.