Chu Nan suddenly saw him in a new light—only Aunt Mo had ever pointed this out before, and Aunt Mo had quite the discerning eye. He never expected Zhao Di to have noticed it too—could this girl really be that wealthy, or did she often study up on such things?
She had never once worried about her “cunning” father—even as the rumors grew more intense, Kadara remained perfectly composed, firmly believing her father would resolve the gossip with ease, just as he always had.
By the end of the day, Yiyi felt she barely counted as a living person anymore—more like a puppet, running on mechanical repetition.
Entering a realm carved out by an immortal almost always required a token, something like a key—without the token, there was no getting in, so the only option was to seize one from someone else.
The first piece of news was manageable enough—both Chen Shumin and the other higher-ups in Youzhou had long anticipated it. But the two pieces that followed left everyone speechless for a long while.
“Heh, no need.” Chu Nan had been about to tally up how much money there was in total, but remembering he could go collect rent tomorrow, on top of ten million coming in, he decided to just do the math the next day.
Back home, Yang Yang got all four kids settled and put to bed before returning to the bedroom. “What’s on your mind, honey?” he asked, walking in to find his wife apparently lost in thought.
Utterly at a loss for words, Chu Nan turned off the TV, went into the bedroom, got a thin blanket to cover her with, and only then left Qin Qiuying’s house.
Zhengyang honestly relayed what he knew about the matter in Beicheng—which wasn’t much, only what Chu Mu had sent word of through a messenger. Beyond that, he had no idea what exactly had happened.
Er Kui clearly understood the gravity of the situation and immediately tried every trick he knew to loosen the rope. But frustratingly, whoever had tied the knots was no amateur—not even Er Kui, someone specially trained in escape techniques, could work it free.
Today, Yin Ta had spent the entire time “monitoring” Ai Ta’s every move—or more precisely, monitoring the data stream.
With Second Master Su speaking up first, everyone else chimed in one after another, all voicing their dissatisfaction with Su Bingrui.
Song Jinzu looked up at the moon, realizing he’d been back for over a month without noticing. He’d also become a mid-tier mage in the process—though there was still a long road ahead.
These past few days Jing Qiuxian had written him quite a few songs, and he’d found some creative inspiration too—it was a good time to go into closed-door cultivation for a while.
Before him, a translucent blue holographic screen displayed a dazzling array of goods, none of which he could actually afford.
Jing Qiuxian frowned and looked up, glancing around—Gu Sifan hadn’t just taken over as host, he’d started treating her like the guest instead.
At the meeting earlier that day, that line from the leader had been well put—essentially, a grand blueprint. But this blueprint was one you could actually see and touch.
Under the envious, jealous stares of the crowd, Lu Chengze stepped out of the car and struck a flashy pose.
“How could that be? My second brother doesn’t meet his conditions—my elder brother is a much better fit.” Jing Qiuxian found the whole thing a headache.
Body cultivation was harder to master than technique cultivation—as far as Wu Tao knew, the Lingxu Sect’s Foundation Establishment stage currently had only two body cultivators. He hadn’t seen either in person; when he’d asked a familiar rogue cultivator, he was told they’d gone off on a mission to the Tianmen Region.
The ancient man-eating demon glared fiercely at Shi Zhentian but didn’t slow his pursuit, only asking coldly.
Qin Yibai’s body shot from the cave like an arrow, arriving in an enormous, empty space. Looking around, he realized he was now suspended right in the middle of this underground chamber, with the ceiling and floor each a full hundred zhang away—he’d shot straight out of the tunnel and ended up hanging in midair.
With nothing more to say for the moment, everyone washed up and, exhausted from the journey, went to rest. Only Zhang Ruyun and Yin Niang stayed up through the night, meditating to hasten the healing of their wounds.
Ji Bei was startled and hurriedly summoned a defensive treasure to block the blow—he managed to catch the strike, but it sent him staggering back a full two steps, and the jolt caused the net to swing wildly, drifting more than a zhang away from the Three-Legged Golden Crow and catching instead a white crow speeding past.
Just as one of the blood gods came within a zhang of Xiao Yao, Xiao Yao’s body finally broke free of the suppression of the Carefree Wandering technique and lunged uncontrollably toward the blood god.
And so, through this daily, repeated practice, Qin Yibai’s success rate at refining Restoration Pills kept climbing—by two months in, he could guarantee an eighty-percent success rate, which, given his current cultivation level, was already quite remarkable.
As for that unnamed old man, entirely disregarding the danger he himself was in, he kept bombarding the passage that Lu Tiandao had reinforced. The old man surnamed Zong and his group retreated all the way back to level ground before finally letting out a breath of relief.
At this, he looked at Yan Qi with open admiration, and Yan Qi’s expression grew visibly moved—practically radiating the sentiment that “my parents gave me life, but it is Xiao Tianwang who truly understands me.”
The Liuhuo Sword, seated together with Fire on the domestic teleportation array, would catch up to them—remember, use your connections to forge a good relationship with Feng Wuqing.
But while she tried to stop him, someone else got there first—the half-serpent had already known what Ji Youyun intended, and with a sweep of its massive serpent tail, sealed off the gap completely. As its tail sent water crashing up in towering waves, several streaks of golden light, like spirit snakes, shot through the surging water straight toward Cheng Shipeng.
The next day’s work pace picked up considerably, everyone suddenly busy. I seemed to be the only idle one. It was a weekday again, so few people were out shopping. Lele called me. I’d set a rocking chair out in the middle of the yard and was lounging comfortably in the sun, chatting with her on the phone.
“Boom, boom, boom—!” The explosion burst like fierce fireworks, and Ling, struck by the agonized giant serpent, was slammed down hard onto the ground.
“No problem, everyone go take a shower first, then rest up—I’ll call you when it’s time to eat.” Wang Yunlong said, then sat down in his spring-and-autumn chair, turned on the TV, and started watching.