Chapter 217

By the side of Taihu, willows concealed the Canhe Manor.

Murong Longcheng’s face was dark; he wandered aimlessly before the hall like a man bereft of his soul, pacing over a dozen circles before heading toward the manor’s gate.

Qin Bo, hunched over, asked: “Are you going out to fight again? We’ve no more clothes to change into—this time, if you tear them up again, you’ll have to go bare-chested.”

Murong Longcheng waved his hand impatiently: “I’m not fighting today. I’m going out to investigate someone.”

An Yu and Zhu Wei knew that after they parted, Leng Yundi would act—otherwise such an unreasonable arrangement wouldn’t have been made. So, after distancing themselves, they entered invisibility, prepared for any unexpected turn.

“You opened my Void Stone without permission and brought me nothing but trouble. Wait—I’ll kill them all, then I’ll kill you.” Xiao Yang spoke calmly.

“Without this Haoran Holy Armor, see how you’ll block my Flying Dragon Mystic Fire Banner!” Qin Guyue sneered coldly—he was overconfident; he couldn’t control the dragon spirit within the banner, merely relying on a faint soul-link to draw it out.

Suddenly he understood why the Dao Alliance elder had insisted on reclaiming the Four Phase Holy Robe, and why they’d forgiven him for seizing Shangguan Chao’s Fire Dragon Glass Pearl.

But strangely, Lin Weiwei did nothing but simply channel a bit of spiritual energy into the Chaos Qin—and suddenly she felt a faint connection form between her and it. Had it recognized her as its master?

All buyers seemed to unite in hostility at once; those near An Yu even shoved him. Some hurled worthless trinkets at him to drive him off.

The north wind howled; snow began falling again across the ice plain, countless chaotic flakes settling over the corpses littering the ground. The scent of blood had faded, yet the eerie aura was stronger than when the group had jointly fought Pang Qianye.

“I’m just a brute with some strength—I know nothing about covert ops. Aren’t you afraid I’ll mess it up? And there are so many talented people in the state—why me?” Zhao Wuji said.

On Lotus Island, Cang Yun hosted a grand night banquet to welcome Mo Ban, celebrating their victory over hidden enemies. The brothers sighed upon hearing Mo Ban’s ordeal and the machinations behind Mo Han Molade. Cang Yun handed over a fragment of Mo Han Molade’s remains to the Cang Tian Bodyguards, letting them torture it to vent their hatred.

Roasted sweet potato! Yun Xiang laughed. She truly loved roasted sweet potatoes. The crops here were all green and pollution-free; this yellow-fleshed variety was especially sweet, slightly charred—delicious.

Even without finishing, Qian Jiyao understood her meaning—it was just fear she’d die the moment she married in.

Empress Yuan pondered for two full hours, deciding that once Mu Lin returned to the capital, she must summon him to the palace for a talk.

Yue Lu felt that Ji Ruoyu was growing more and more like Lu Qingfan—especially in the tone of her words, that subtle hint of threat, unmistakably Lu Qingfan-style.

Beyond the vast panoramic window, a middle-aged man with white hair and a black robe gently tapped the outer surface of the window with two fingers—the same window capable of withstanding a royal-level magic-powered weapon’s main cannon blast.

Since last time they retrieved the snow lotus, Leng Qingyang and Su Wanqing had rarely met; when they saw each other from afar, Su Wanqing would merely bow and turn away.

Even with minimal entourage, the Retired Emperor brought six carts: one for his rest, one for travel supplies, and the remaining four packed entirely with his private wealth.

Lin Yangtian heard this and flew into a rage—middle of the night, not sleeping, coming to Lin Siyu’s room accusing her of trying to kill him with a knife and demanding to search her room? Did he think he was a fool?