Fifty-four Acres of Land

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No sooner had the incomparable words fallen than a pale, delicate hand appeared before him, holding a black pill in its palm.
Xiang Ling was somewhat surprised to hear that the porridge was not poisoned; she swallowed hard, as if still savoring the taste of the white porridge.
Those most eager to vie for the throne had already surged forward, while the others at the back hesitated, uncertain whether to step forward and try.
He had visited the Ghost Market many times and was quite familiar with its architecture, yet this was the first time he learned that it was a town full of mechanisms; had it not been for today’s events, he might never have known.
Xiao Yebai, witnessing this, twitched involuntarily but was immediately grabbed by the arm by Bai Moxin.
Only after accepting the original owner’s memories did he realize that Xu Hong was all bark and no bite—though sharp-tongued and loud, he was warm-hearted. Since signing with Hua Ying, the original owner had followed Xu Hong for three or four years.
Lately, his emotions had become complicated, clouding his thoughts. Honestly, he felt somewhat guilty toward Lin Xiaoxiao; before she let go of him, he had already wavered.
Yao Yu and Yan Hua exchanged glances, both somewhat amused and exasperated. Truly, they were big stars, yet still acted like children.
Listening to the rustling sounds, Qing Cao’s unease deepened; those noises seemed to gnaw at her soul and bones, growing more unbearable. Impatient, she told the village chief to select a few locals familiar with the terrain to accompany her on a nearby search.
This time, Lin Ling behaved exceptionally normally, like a gentle and lovely wife, her gaze toward Bai Chen full of affection.
Ji Lanqian, nearest to the window, was so startled by the sudden shadow that she nearly collapsed, forgetting to scream, her legs weak.
It was as if he utterly refused to accept the conclusion he had reached in his heart, insisting on finding evidence to overturn it.
“Am I dead?” Lin Hansheng’s voice drew everyone’s attention back to him.
Another snap of a neck bone echoed, accompanied by pained wails, as a dozen guards charging at Luo Hao were effortlessly dispatched once more.
No matter what, they were married in name; with her husband’s honor restored, Tang Wanru naturally rejoiced as a wife.

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“Heh, you think you can just mention the Jin family at will? Attack!” With a single command from Jin Er Ye, three henchmen immediately lunged at Gu Sheng.
Just as Abdul was about to fade from sight and return to the spatial passage established at the inn,
a head appeared from behind the carriage. She tidied her disheveled hair and kept glancing at the passenger’s expression through the rearview mirror.
By the time she finally registered what was happening, Li Ci’s lips had already pressed against hers, tenderly kissing her again and again. She momentarily forgot to react, wide-eyed as she stared at his magnified face.
“Half-God wine, it’s strongest the first time you drink it. I might be a bit reckless, but just listen to the Emperor. The wine’s with me; you won’t get away.” Lin Yun said.
After all, the Yin-Yang Patriarch was a fifth-level powerhouse with godlike perception; if caught again, death was certain.
He was on his way to the Western Long Kingdom to find the Infernal Rift and to open a new branch for the sect. Though he didn’t understand why the old man from Mount Shu suddenly felt compelled to establish a branch so far away, he suspected hidden motives.
From afar, Youji watched intently, startled. She didn’t know what trump card the Yin-Yang Patriarch intended to play next. Astonishingly, the technique he used now resembled the Galaxy Kick—could it be the Human Race or the Spirit Crown?
At this moment, Ye Ziyu gripped his sword, face pale as he trembled weakly, clearly grievously injured.
The only thing Ming Xuan worried about was the Wind Wolf, a demonic beast that had left a deep mark on him. He had yet to devise a strategy to deal with or defeat it; precisely because of its mysterious nature, Ming Xuan longed desperately for a rematch.
Along the way, a few ox carts hurried toward the imperial city. Xu Jiangnan made way, was momentarily stunned, then continued onward.
“Brother, no matter which country, the common folk are many. They’re all the same—they love peace,” Brother Hai said, drinking.
Zhao Han even felt that a mere glance or gesture from her could instantly turn all the ordinary grass, stones, dust, insects, birds, fish, and beasts around them—even the very air they breathed—into deadly poison.
As for how secret it was... Zhang Hao, who had worked here for several years, was still clueless; only his father and grandfather knew a little.
However, it was impossible for the two to settle the matter quickly, since both wielded sacred-level powers with nearly equal destructive force. A great battle was inevitable and would only continue.

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Lin Tian continued his search. At Xing Tian's location, those who received Lin Tian’s telepathic message wore increasingly grim expressions.
In truth, what he said was nonsense; the reason he dared not be certain was that he feared letting something slip or making a mistake.
After practicing staff techniques briefly at the training ground, Changshan left the Tan residence and went to Xiao Changyong’s estate, where the two sparred in the martial arena.
Xiao Yue was increasingly frustrated, but Yan Bing, having laughed it off, ceased teasing him. To help ease his mood, she kindly accompanied him around Cloud City and even visited the blacksmith master, Lie Huo.
“All right. What’s done is done. The most important thing now is how to rescue Ding Rou,” Leng Zhiqing said, no longer pressing the matter.
She had never been one to do wrong, yet now she had to collaborate with someone she had just met.
Having faced life and death, both Xing Tian and Lie Yan were filled with a burning passion; upon returning to their rooms, they clung to each other desperately, as if venting all their fears.
“Hmph, I just want you to be helpless,” Li Siter said with a mischievous smile, her ample breasts pressed against Xing Tian’s chest, squashing into two soft mounds.
“Monks don’t lie. The Miaofa Temple strictly forbids disciples from privately passing on the sect’s techniques, but the Heavenly Eye method is not a secret art; it is the most basic cultivation path.”
It was very familiar, yet for a moment he couldn’t recall it precisely. Still, he knew there must be someone important in the imperial city.
“Good,” Young Master Mo Li nodded, then flickered beside Young Master Mo. Mo only felt a lightness in his hand; in a flash of shadow, Mo Li, who had been before him, vanished. Tian Xuanzi glanced at the dazed Mo and wondered why his disciple seemed so distracted after meeting his senior brother in this valley.