Chapter Sixty-Five: Behind the Truth

Yin Nian opened the fourth video.

The footage was recorded on August 22nd.

By then, Yin Nian had already undergone hypnosis therapy by Yuan Yi and had come to accept part of the reality. However, after resting at home for two days, she began to feel uneasy once more, reflecting on the entire incident from beginning to end. She uncovered numerous suspicious points and again became convinced that she hadn’t hit anyone, but was instead being framed.

That morning at five, Yin Nian climbed out of bed, took Yangyang—who’d gotten up to use the bathroom—over to the hotel, and began interrogating him. Not long after, Liang Zhicheng and Yin Nian’s parents arrived; Yin Nian had a fierce argument with her mother, and Liang Zhicheng took Yangyang away.

It was also on that day that Yin Nian, following Han Duoduo’s suggestion, went to the hospital to see Old Lady Yang. Unexpectedly, the old woman’s condition suddenly worsened, and the three Yang siblings came to her home to make a scene.

All at once, the entire virtual universe became lively again. Many were puzzled—wasn’t the level nine mercenary Jiang Lai supposed to have been taken away by the Lord of Martial Extremes? How had he reappeared?

Even understanding Kos’s intentions, Wu Yi would never simply surrender and let Kos escort him to the Demonic Prison. Not to mention the dangers within that place, even the shift in status was hard for Wu Yi to accept. He was not a man to submit meekly to fate.

Just like Yang Qi, all the strong ones grew tense, clearly uncertain about what would happen next.

Only then did Ye Chu understand that in the Divine Realm, there were no elixirs at all. Furthermore, those above the rank of Divine King were strictly limited in their access to various resource cards; without sufficient strength, they could not even learn their secrets.

“Trying to leave? Did you ask for my permission?” The Hundred Battles Heavenly Worm, its plump body swaying, spoke in a childish tone.

Yet a faint mist, three feet deep, enveloped his entire body. When the torrential rain fell, the droplets struck the mist as if landing on lotus leaves; with a gentle plop, they bounced right off.

As the cannon fire ceased, Wu Sangui looked sorrowfully at the pale-faced Kong Youde, knowing that this assault had ended in utter failure.

In other words, to leave successfully, one must first survive and collect ten thousand catties of mechanism redstone to complete the mission. Only then would they have the right to choose whether to stay or depart.

Amidst the drizzling rain, a piercing shriek suddenly echoed from the horizon. A gigantic beast demon appeared, its body three zhang long, with a human face and the form of a bird.

At the forefront of the skeleton army, leading these undead creatures, stood a skeletal lord—a deathly ruler wearing an ancient crown.

“Thank you, Young Master Hua!” Overcome with emotion, Gongsun Yong knelt before Hua Qingyi, then instructed those beside the coffin to step aside, allowing Hua Qingyi to inspect the scene.

“Grandfather, Zhen’er admits her mistake.” Li Zhen had never seen Li Yufa so furious. Yet she was no fool; after some thought she grasped the heart of the matter, growing more frightened the longer she considered it.

Faced with the collaborationist soldiers’ questioning, Liao Fan sneered, unwilling to waste words. He simply signaled to Brother Wang to act.

“Very well… come here…” The Carefree Master gently flicked his hand. The yellow silk laid over the green stone lifted three bowls of wine and slowly floated them before his chest.

Nian Bailong let out a rallying cry. To boost morale, he led the way, steering the long dragon to charge at the Blood Emperor.

As the “Pale-faced Yama” announced, Zhao Wushuang’s eyes snapped open, a sharp gleam flashing within. He glanced at Tang Xiao before striding calmly onto the arena.

Their years of experience had paid off. In Western Gorge, Sichuan’s Pangu Lashan, Ningxia’s Luocheng, and the tomb of Genghis Khan Kublai in Ganzhou, Jiangxi—they had spent every effort. In life, these local lords enjoyed glory and wealth, and in death, maintained strict standards.

His long hair, unbound, fluttered in the wind. The sunset dyed his heroic face scarlet, his expression defiant and aura overwhelming.

The Kang family also took action. As mayor of Datong, Kang Hailong appointed the city’s first official—a businessman who had dined with them previously. His surname was Lü, and his donation of eight thousand silver dollars to the New Thirty-third Army was second only to Kang Hailong’s.

“Heh heh heh,” Wang Bin let out a cold laugh over the phone, then suddenly spoke in a solemn tone, “Let’s go out for some fun tomorrow at six in the evening, shall we?” The next day was Sunday—there were no classes.