Volume 1, Chapter 32: His Brother Slapped Him

Ye Zhaoying was astonished to find them there, suddenly recalling that when she first moved into this rented apartment, Ye Zhaoyuan had taken a key from her under the pretext of worrying about her living alone.

Everyone nodded immediately. At that time, three overwhelmingly powerful imperial auras had filled the heavens and earth, and especially after the battle, the terrifying murderous intent erupting from the Body-Forging Mountain Range could be felt across the entire planet of Divine Weapons.

However, in this moment of life and death, Tian Sheng’s mind became increasingly clear. He forgot his hatred and all his techniques; every sword strike and every movement flowed naturally, as if born from the Dao itself.

Chen Zhantian still gripped the bronze-colored Great Evolution War Halberd, domineering and tyrannical, as if he could fight across the nine heavens and ten earths.

In the mere quarter of an hour since he had taken over the charge from Wanyan Liang, dozens of Yuan soldiers had died by his hand. The riderless warhorses let out mournful cries and fled in all directions.

"Jiang Zheyuan was still cursing you as he died," Li Damao said after Ling Duyi sat down. Ling Duyi took his seat, but Hu Mei’er and Qingdie remained standing. They stood behind him, one on each side, kneading his shoulders, a sight that made Li Damao’s eyes burn with envy.

A young Saint is certainly rare, but if Luo Chen cannot pass the Saint examination, then everything will lose its meaning.

Zhenyuanzi taught the Dao, taking forty-nine disciples and hundreds of registered pupils. In the primordial world, perhaps only Tongtian surpassed him. Beyond that, millions of cultivators gathered outside Wuzhuang Temple, honoring him as the "Great Immortal Zhenyuan" and frequently listening to his teachings under his seat.

Seeing the situation, Tao Sanjue and Huang Ling excused themselves. Mei Feixue hurriedly led them to another room for tea, leaving the space to Ling Duyi and Wu Guangming.

The funeral procession was specially equipped with a dozen flautists and trumpeters, playing solemn and slightly melancholic elegies that cast a grave and mysterious atmosphere over the entire cortege.

Previously, he had encountered Flame Beasts in the first eight stages, all of which Chen Zheng had easily shaken off without them even brushing his clothes. Now, arriving at the ninth stage, there were a full nine fire-entities at the half-step innate realm.

Given Feng Qingcheng’s speed, even if Ming Haotian wanted to send other diamond puppets to intercept her, it would be too late. Moreover, he was injured himself and found it hard to dodge, so he decided it was better to step forward and fight.

"Does my second sister know about this too?" Feixue thought of Douya, who was locked in a cell, and sought confirmation from Shui Mei.

"You're too kind!" Wang Chuanfu adjusted his metal-rimmed glasses before stepping into the elevator with Liu Haichao and the others.

By the mid-19th century, British and French warships were already using steam engines, making them massive in size yet undiminished in speed. Li Mingfeng was brought to the cabin door; the soldier leading him saluted and returned to continue his patrol.

In truth, they were still in the awkward early stage of being a couple, and she had not yet grown accustomed to the routine of holding hands while crossing the street with him.

With a sharp "crack," before the silver meteor hammer could land on the golden-shelled insect, a faint golden light erupted from the creature's head, causing the hammer to recoil violently, its power seemingly matched.

It was a pity that, due to Master Yan’s caprice, they had been on the verge of finding Zhan Xu’s hideout only to have the trail ruined by him.

The others wore expressions of shock and disbelief, looking at Gong Wu and Situ as if they were creatures that should not be seen in public.

He even exaggeratedly pressed his palms together toward her, thinking himself quite playful as he made a gesture of pleading.

All the snowflakes around were brushed away, leaving a transparent sheet of ice. Feng Qingcheng knelt on the ice and peered down into the bottomless expanse of snow, where everything was blindingly, brilliantly white.