Chapter 210: The Pure Land of Bliss

When Gu Chengyang sang, his face was expressionless, his eyes gazing nowhere in particular, yet his voice was gentle.

Outside the classroom, wave after wave of cold wind struck her face, gradually cooling her burning ears. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the strange thoughts that had just flitted through her mind. The priority now was the final exam in a few days—she must do well.

As soon as the news broke, it spread rapidly—every country abroad heard of it and erupted in fury, demanding the national government provide an explanation. Under mounting pressure, the government issued a statement guaranteeing accountability and a proper response.

This genuinely aroused Li Ge and Hesta’s suspicion, but recalling the thorned monk who had earlier tried to force open the lock with a pistol, they found it entirely reasonable—these people were utterly untrained; to them, firearms were more like deadly toys than life-saving mechanical companions.

But Mu Shancheng remained unmoved, offering only occasional glimpses of the institute’s facilities and staff, otherwise staying completely silent.

Only at this moment did Zhenyi realize that, apart from the wisdom granted by their advanced brains, humans were truly no different from other animals.

Yet neither an angel nor Ultraman could stand idly by as Dark Lopside Roar rampaged across other universes.

After mentally cursing the terrible service attitude of a certain trainer several times, Ye Sen observed for a moment, then walked directly toward the bar nearby, which appeared to be the central management office.

Sitting in the car, Xin Yuying thought of what Chen Bingyu had said earlier in the bedroom: “Whether you like someone or not has nothing to do with whether you start dating early.” Then she heard her parents chatting ahead about relatives and friends, and suddenly felt inexplicably irritated.

Put that way, it seemed reasonable—even Wang Girl looked at Lin Jiaruo with a hint of doubt.

Back when meeting the family, she hadn’t been this nervous—what on earth was going on now?

Gu Jie was average-looking, with slightly dark skin, perhaps due to adolescence—he had a few acne spots on his face and a slender build.

Xuan Tianle fell into a drunken slumber. Xiao Xiao carried nine cows and two tigers to carry him to bed. Suddenly, like a devoted wife, she took off her shoes and socks, stripped off her clothes, and pressed a warm towel to her head. It was the first time she had tenderly and thoughtfully cared for someone. Perhaps she didn’t believe this was really happening.

“It doesn’t matter—they’re just cousins. We can avoid them when the time comes,” Gan Shi smoothed things over.

So the group pushed Chang Qing along, like guards escorting a prisoner, successfully taking him far away.

If Qingzhi Daoist held the Ice Sword, each strike carried the power of one sword; seven strikes combined yielded the power of seven swords, allowing him to fully unleash his ten-tenths strength.

Bai Hou rode in the same car as Lin Jiaruo, so a dozen or more people trailed behind Lin Jiaruo’s vehicle, a spectacular sight.

Heshilie remained silent, but his heart was stunned—when Third Prince Wanyan Xue assigned him this mission, no one else had been nearby. How could he possibly know?

After a bumpy journey, they finally reached their destination—Tang Lou could already see the massive Sun-Moon Palace.

Everyone stared in astonishment, confused, not understanding the man’s meaning—but from his words, it was clear he had already decided on a way to become that person, and it wasn’t through slaughter.

“Then tell us—what did he mean by that?” Lan Ruoxin instantly turned the accusation toward the half-orc who had spoken.

Wherever he saw soldiers resisting attacks, he drew his sword to aid them—his blade moved and returned without any visible motion, and no one saw his sword leave its scabbard, yet heads still fell.

A month ago, he still looked like a one-year-old baby with chubby cheeks; now he had suddenly transformed into this childlike form—no wonder Houtian barely recognized him.

What had once been beauty, what had once been happiness, had dissolved into smoke due to his own foolishness, leaving behind only this lonely man sitting alone atop the snow-capped peak, savoring solitude and guilt through endless time.

Before the middle-aged man could recover from his shock, a massive palm suddenly crashed down from the tree, and in his horrified gaze, darkness swallowed his vision.

Li Xiaoyi blushed and said, never mind his wild imaginings—the others still stared at the screen, for Yeyan’s vehicle had suddenly stopped.

The terrifying shockwave of the explosion swept outward like a storm of magnitude fifty, and a colossal tsunami surged toward Lan Puluqi City—more terrifying than the tsunami that engulfed the entire city in the original story.

“I just want to relieve stress because I’m in a bad mood,” he leaned close, wrapping both arms tightly around me, his mouth closing over my earlobe.

Deputy Director Luan Gumeng, in charge of land, was a former teacher who had developed health issues during her teaching years. Now, as a high-ranking official, she attended endless meetings, and her intervertebral discs frequently flared up, forcing her to rely on painkillers. She visited many hospitals, but the results were always mediocre—she still suffered terribly when she returned home.

Nan Qing’s hands rested neatly on her knees, though the fabric of her skirt there was crumpled from her tight grip.