Chapter 122

Hearing that donkey bray, Zhao Ti let out a quiet sigh.

If no soldiers had appeared, he would have acted himself.

Though he didn't know why Helian Tieshu was scattering incense powder—even seeing the bag nearly empty, and knowing it would be gone after covering Yongxi Mausoleum—he couldn't let him continue.

That donkey bray was piercing and loud, slicing through the night air; the soldiers would surely be startled and rush over, inevitably noticing the anomaly before the mausoleum.

At that moment, Helian Tieshu froze.

As he spoke, a powerful gust descended from above; Lu Chengfeng stepped back two paces, and before him appeared a massive pit, bottomless.

It seems the selection mechanism of these side passages is stricter than I thought—clearly, the Qi absorbed is distributed according to each location's needs.

After a while, the fat man gasped for breath and stopped; Cao Kai curled on the ground, face covered in blood, not daring to make a sound.

The countless illusory suns drifting through the star-cloud ocean vanished entirely, as if they had never existed.

Yet no one knew of his occasional quiet departures from Crab Spirit City to the mountains and forests to hone his combat skills.

"I have a request," Yuan Qing suddenly bowed deeply. "I wonder if my lord might grant it? Of course—this matter brings only benefit to my lord, not the slightest harm."

Qingshan observed for a long time before Dao Dian Temple, frowning. Master Mu Ming also frowned, his face filled with confusion.

The reception hall had already prepared a banquet: all manner of delicacies filled the tables, and fine wines stood ready beside them.

Yang Ling first suffered a soul attack; had Qing Si's condition allowed more than a single weakly formed strike—far from peak power—he would have perished then, unprotected by world-origin energy. Later, he was further wounded by the residual shockwave of the Nascent Soul's self-destruction, compounding his injuries.

To other cultivators, this was like a titanic tidal wave crashing against their hearts.

The auction's climax came with a pill—crafted primarily from Fusheng fruit, a supreme pill only a high-level alchemist could produce.

Huanglong Zhenren bowed low before Rendeng Dao Ren, but heard no reply; puzzled, he slightly lifted his head and saw Rendeng Dao Ren glaring at Su Yuan—his heart surged with joy.

She instinctively shrank back, but Li Chengjie sighed, his gaze flickering, then suddenly placed his hand on her shoulder.

Even if Pingcheng was eventually lost, the Qin army lacked the strength to destroy Zhao. Many saw only Zhao Kuo's failure, but ignored the Qin army's losses.

Thinking of it made him feel a chill of fear; looking at the figure sprawled on the ground, he found it even more hateful.

This time, as I walked toward the cave entrance, I found the female rhino hadn't run—she waited patiently at the door for me.

Buddha's face changed instantly; he swung a punch, and a massive fist shadow collided with the swordlight, exploding loudly to neutralize the effect.

Lingtian Sword is the ancestral weapon of the Ling Clan. Gazing upon this legendary weapon, revered like myth by the Ling Clan, they were awestruck; since ancient times, this sword had accompanied Ling Clan's mighty warriors in countless battles, and whenever it was drawn, victory was absolute, conquest inevitable.

She couldn't exert much strength, so Nicole herself stepped forward to take the phone, hesitated a moment, then finally gritted her teeth and pressed it to her ear.

"For someone with no martial foundation to learn just by looking… it's hardly easy. Mr. Jiang Liu, are you certain you've learned it?" Hua Yin frowned again.

The master and disciple walked slowly through the training hall, one explaining in detail, the other listening intently.

Zhu Zijun nodded, pondered a moment, then marked a red circle in the lower-left corner of several paintings; finally, he paused before Yang Jiarong's portrait.