Profile Artist 25
The Treading White Army was the apple of Wang Shen’s eye. Whatever the troops needed, he would grant without hesitation. At once, he ordered a hundred crossbows and three thousand arrows to be sent over, replenishing the cavalry’s supplies after the equipment lost during recent training.
Wang Mei was a perfect example of this resolve, leaving even Su Ling at a loss for words, who could only admire her strength in silence.
“They say the Three Pure Ones return as one; I fear it’s only the legacy of the Great God Pangu that returns, not the camaraderie forged through countless ages,” the Daoist of Supreme Purity thought, a chill running through his heart.
Brother Meow had no interest in wasting words with the guard. He simply produced the badge Daphne had given him and showed it. Upon seeing the badge, the guard opened the way without another word.
Cangyan Mountain—Jiang Feng had been here once before, leading Liu Batian and others in search of the Research Institute, where he met Lan Zixuan. Now, Ai Xin and her companions had also arrived, their purpose the same as Jiang Feng’s: the Research Institute.
Nevertheless, the King’s Army was not entirely passive. Over the past two days, a great number of siege engines had been constructed.
The horse-cutting sabers, modeled after those of the Ming army, were exceptionally sharp. With a single swing, a head would fly into the air, the wielder’s arms encountering not the slightest resistance.
Seeing this, Tian Xuanzi was filled with emotion. So this hidden village had such a history—surely, the deadly zone outside formed when the village’s restrictions were activated. If he wished to leave, the Insect King would have to be slain.
“Demon Saint, your kindness is wasted on them. You’d do better to save your breath,” said Grandmother Centipede calmly, pushing past the others to the front.
Yet in the world of immortal cultivation, there were sects and evil-doers who used dual cultivation to commit debauchery, stealing yin to replenish yang and vice versa to increase their own power. But this poisonous practice only benefited one at the cost of the other.
The outcome, however, was unchanged: his horsemanship was as poor as yesterday, still a novice who could barely ride.
The old grave keeper, seeing Yun Fan depart, returned to the tomb, and peace once again settled over the cemetery. The once blank gravestone now bore four characters, making it appear rather ordinary.
From his vantage, he could see above the villa—a middle-aged man in black robes, eyes glowing with spiritual light, scanning everything below. The man had no discernible presence, but to be suspended in midair meant he must be at least a Nascent Soul cultivator or stronger. The man remained completely unaware that he was being watched as well.
The young intellectuals, brimming with youthful vigor and dreams of building a new countryside, felt the allure of this new collective, their hearts set on rolling up their sleeves and working hard. “It’s up to us to establish the revolutionary rural base,” they declared, their spirits ablaze.
The extended usage of the “Six Leaf Techniques” was easy enough to learn, yet none of the three incorporated it directly into their practice.
The ten-mile stretch of black mist in the sky was swept away. Lucifer looked up, sunlight pouring down glaringly bright. His body trembled, and in his eyes appeared a terror he had never known.
They had jested about Ichiro Kawada, wondering if he had been bribed by the Ren family. But deep down, they knew that Teacher Kawada would never do such a thing.
After entering Zhao Yanping’s home and reviewing detailed records of his three memories, Du Bian understood even more clearly: the Dream Demon King was orchestrating everything from the shadows, and Du Bian’s every move was under his watchful gaze.
Camping here meant being prepared to be carted off by mosquitoes. As the temperature rose, their numbers were beyond imagination.
Then Might Guy began to roughhouse with Kakashi, clearly trying to break the awkward tension with playful antics.
The next morning, she rose early and went to the police station. She wanted to see the chief—even if it meant getting more money. Hadn’t the He family given them more already?
The Origin Realm was truly a sacred place for cultivation, its primordial energy rich and the Heavenly Dao perfectly functioning, allowing warriors to comprehend the source of the five elements.
“Master, I’ll explain the rest later. Did you get the moonlight grass for the baby? The poison’s acting up...” Mo Jiuli didn’t mince words.
“Hey, Tang—are you taking advantage of me?” In an instant, Minister Tang’s fiery spirit returned.
“Aren’t you living each day with enviable ease? You’re the luckiest of us all—what have you got to worry about?” Ning Chengsen kept his eyes on the shop, making small talk with Qu An.
Yang Lian said that today, he would have Liang Jian dine at his place. A table would be set up outside, right there in the sunshine.
Looking at Tang Yuan shivering violently on the ice bed, unable even to speak clearly, Bai nodded imperceptibly and disappeared in a flash.
Perhaps good fortune lifts the spirit; now, even being called “Fat Mi” or “Fat Pig” by him no longer provoked the slightest anger.
Before everyone’s eyes, the black-hearted spear shattered with a mighty crash. Fang Chen’s fist seemed to contain the very power that split heaven and earth.
“Where’s your wife?” Ning Zhenbang, face stern and upright, back straight despite his years and graying hair, spoke with unwavering authority.
She was no great personage. In fifteen minutes, she’d weighed all the pros and cons. She could think no further. The water had already boiled. Now, pinned to the chopping block, she could only instinctively choose what seemed right. In truth, she was no different from Wen Mengbing.