Episode 8

“They are doing this merely to win our sympathy and trick us into helping them. Only then can they truly gauge our real strength,” explained Wanderer.

Xu Yiming glanced back at the scattered troops behind him, realizing that completing the mission under these circumstances was impossible.

But what good was anger? The God of War, Wu Chang, was exalted far above them. These lowly rebels had no right to accuse him. Even Lord Suleiman dared not speak recklessly.

“The Painted Tower is too far from Qingming Palace; I’ve moved here to live. You should come live with me starting today,” Xiao Han said calmly as he entered the room and took a seat, casually tossing out the invitation.

“What do you intend to do then?” The fierce girl’s briefly softened nerves tightened once more, her trembling arms crossed defensively. Ye Tian had thought she was joking, but her demeanor stirred a sudden desire within him.

“Pah!” Spitting out several teeth dislodged in the fight, Chen Yi lunged again toward Zhou Tianlong.

Having said that, Gu Zhao ignored Ping Hongyan, knowing she was like a lit powder keg ready to explode. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Sun Jinxin.

Shen Tong adjusted his posture and methodically recounted the events on the mountain earlier, deliberately omitting the matter involving Xie Tianliang—one must never speak without evidence. After finishing, he produced a roll of film from his pocket and placed it on Wu Jiangkai’s desk.

“What arrangements have been made?” Wu Jiangkai asked. He knew well that with the New Year’s return to work, county leaders and heads of various departments would all vie to invite him to meals. There was much speculation about whose invitation he would accept first.

At last, the former sect leader regained consciousness but remained utterly immobilized under the suppressive “Golden Light of the Buddha.” Only then did he realize the tragic truth: no matter how powerful he became, he could never escape absolute domination by this young man before him.

At the moment of impact, she furrowed her brow in surprise, then, as if realizing something, felt a sudden heaviness in her heart.

That night, the group rested at a high-end inn. Only then did Fatty Ya feel truly alive again—after a sumptuous meal, lying in her fragrant boudoir, utterly content.

Advancing in the path of killing, after today’s battle, Bai Yujing finally grasped the terrifying power of the Life-Slaying Sword Technique.

“Do you have a way to lure that Princess Ruhua up here and then extract information from her?” Le Caiwei asked, winking at him.

If at first they had been confidently cocky about easily dealing with the Xingku and the giants, now their composure began to unravel.

Thinking of tonight’s meeting with her, he had meticulously tried on every robe in his wardrobe. To see the astonishment in her eyes at this moment was worth it.

The scorching Flame Fist shot forth from Commander Long’s hand, engulfing the dark true fire, striking the six-eyed demon’s chest. The fiery fist expanded like a vast net upon impact, swiftly consuming the six-eyed demon.

“I… I’m just curious, damn it—curious how you mastered such superb long-range firepower,” I admitted.

“A kind of grassy juice smell,” Le Caiwei said, slowly approaching the central pool. The pool’s surface was pitch black, and the strong, pungent odor emanated from there.

From afar, he sensed the battle near the governor’s mansion but showed no haste, strolling leisurely toward it as if on a casual walk.

Besides, she always had a strange feeling that Rong Liang wasn’t as harmless as he appeared. Recalling past details, she vaguely sensed her husband might truly be formidable.

Everyone had pitied him at first, but hearing this, their sympathy mingled with helplessness and a wry smile.

His apology was solemn and deeply heartfelt. I was somewhat confused by the atmosphere—Musa wanting to inform his mother and apologize—what did it all mean? Unsure what to say, I helplessly smiled, waved goodbye, and left.

Their gaze passed over Jun Qianxi and settled on the snowy figure behind her, their greed unmistakable.

She was now in Yizhou; if a flood occurred, no number of lives would suffice to survive it. Despite her fearless demeanor, no one knew... she was, in fact, a water-averse soul.

The manor on the outskirts of the capital had received news days ago. The estate had been thoroughly cleaned, and the servants waited at the gate. Seeing Rong Liang’s group from afar, they immediately brightened.

Beautiful butterflies danced gracefully among the flowers, showcasing their most enchanting movements under the warm sun, drawing admiring eyes.

That night, she studied the paintings for a long time, only putting them away well past midnight before going to sleep.

Rong Liang watched Bing Qing flee without the usual gesture of changing clothes for him. Resigned, he dressed himself and went to the purification chamber to wash up. When he returned, Bing Qing was already seated at the dining table, waiting for him.