Chapter 262

Ahead, the mountain ravine was deep and treacherous, but detouring around it would mean traveling countless more miles sideways and scaling numerous peaks.

Descending to the bottom and climbing upward again was possible, as the ravine walls were covered in countless ancient vines—fresh green shoots intertwined with weathered brown stems, perfect for gripping and hauling.

For an ordinary person, such a feat would be perilous, but for cultivators, it posed little difficulty; the Thirty-Six Caves and Seventy-Two Islands folk were no ordinary bunch, and with their esoteric arts to aid them, crossing this ravine was no obstacle.

If there truly was no other way, then she must be killed—better to die alongside this evil dragon than to let her live.

Besides, I take this same route every day after work; suddenly switching because of an incident would look highly suspicious.

Consort Jiang gripped the letter tightly in her hand, her heart in turmoil—what should she do now? Was she doomed to spend her entire life imprisoned in the Evergreen Palace?

At the same time, Xie Ru let out a deafening roar, stomped hard against a massive boulder beside the cliff, and leapt high into the air, hopping and bounding down the precipice.

Hao Yu continued gathering these fresh ingredients, seemingly unimpressed by the breathtakingly beautiful Duanmu Ehuang before him.

“Without the Lord’s command, we will not act,” Hua Yu replied haughtily; only the Lord’s order could free them.

The men trembled; some turned and fled without uttering another word, yet three managed to suppress their fear and stayed behind.

Hearing Ye Tian’s words, the two struggled to their feet and bowed respectfully to him: “Boss.” Today, they were utterly convinced—they knew Ye Tian hadn’t even used his full strength, or they would already be dead.

As Su Moyue finished speaking, Zhou Yijin strode in, his face dark as storm clouds, grim enough to drip water.

Before he could even react, Liu Erlong’s fist struck his face, unleashing terrifying force.

No one loved Fu Jing more than Fu Mama; she doted on her son, yet never turned him into a mama’s boy—he had his own personality and convictions.

All she could do was slowly unveil the true nature of the white lotus, letting everyone see what Tang Ke’er really was.

“If you like her, then it’s a good fate for her,” Leng Chen smiled faintly upon reading Rong Nian’s message—he knew Ling’er would get along perfectly with Rong Nian.

Is she allergic to taro? Mu An’an is the one allergic to taro; they’d been together four years—Lu Jinnian naturally knew his girlfriend Mu An’an was allergic to taro.

Once he understood this, he broke his own promise and exploited her weakness to lure her out.

Ning Jing remembered one particular instance clearly—it was about peanuts. She’d gone roundabout: which brand tasted best, how her aunt preferred a certain kind, then how things were in college, and so on.

At that moment, a group of riders sped out from the city’s most luxurious Huangshi Giant Castle; their mounts resembled unicorns from Western myths and stood exceptionally tall.

One could only say history had its inertia—even in a mythic world, all development followed fundamental logic.

Cui Xuehao’s eyes gleamed with cruelty, but Zheng Zhong was already a dying man; there was no point in angering him. He began flattering Du Shenglin, hoping the man would take him under his wing.

The indoor basketball court had been renovated; it was here that I first learned he was Su Ruo—I’d been speaking ill of him right to his face, and it was awkward.

“Fifty million,” a cultivator of Late Stage Great Completion, dressed in gray, called out from several zhang ahead as Feng Fan listened silently.

The next morning, several crows cawed incessantly above the Yao family mansion, waking Yao Yi from sleep.