Volume One, Chapter 41: Her Guardian Angel

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The young girl slowly regained consciousness. She remembered only catching the scent of something fragrant before fainting.

She was no longer in a carriage. She had been moved into a small, lightless hut.

They were probably preparing to hand her over to slave traders.

Meng Tingfeng licked her cracked lips, feeling as though she had returned once more to the little woodshed in the mountains.

But she was no longer anyone’s dog slave.

She had sworn to herself that she would change her fate. She absolutely could not—and would not—fall here.

Her unshakable conviction supported her until the narrow crack of light before her suddenly burst open.

Liu Xiayang entered with a grin. This time, he was not wearing a mask.

“The heir can only take you this far.” He began to undo...

Hearing this, Tang Qingyu hurriedly passed over the microphone, while the one in Li Yaoyao’s hand was left awkwardly suspended, with neither of them knowing what to do.

Thus, each side lost a cultivator at the Nascent Soul stage. The losses were undeniably severe. Yet at that level, as long as one’s Nascent Soul escaped, it was entirely possible to seize a suitable body and gradually recover one’s strength. But if the Nascent Soul shattered, that meant true death.

“You shameless bitch! You killed my husband!” Minglan charged forward and slammed her fists at Yaotian. Yaotian was naked, covered only by a quilt, and could not move freely. She landed several punches before he could react, leaving his head spinning.

Though he found Yu’er’s sudden change strange, he did not feel the slightest suspicion. Nangong Xia had always trusted that, deep in her heart, Yu’er truly loved him most.

“We have to resolve this! Miaowei has already been injured once. Who knows whether there will be a next time?” Bei Enhui complained somewhat irritably to Sheng Jingzhi.

My father probably knew I would act impulsively. The moment I lunged at Manager Tian, he caught me from behind.

When he turned to face Ma Haoran, Ma Xiang—drunk enough to be sober and sober enough to be drunk—burst into hearty laughter. He, too, had been harboring a bellyful of anger with nowhere to vent it, so drowning his sorrows in wine suited him perfectly.

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The man who received him was a Chinese detective inspector. The British were shrewd about such matters and would never appear in person. Aside from considerations of prestige, if negotiations broke down, they would at least retain room to maneuver.

“I want to have a child too, but no matter how hard we try, nothing happens. Your third brother never says anything, but I know he has always been thinking about having children.” Bei Enhui sounded disappointed and regretful.

He immediately asked for the exact location of Inquiry Temple as well, planning to go there and offer incense on his next day off.

Even while standing above it, Qian De could sense that the spiritual energy within was several times denser than outside.

They assumed that Inquiry Temple had remained hidden in the deep mountains for so many years because all the masters within possessed the bearing of immortals and sages.

Not long ago, he had broken through to the fourth level of the Spirit Spring Realm. At that moment, he sat cross-legged on the back of a flying white tiger, his eyes tightly closed as he sank into a strange dream. Within that dream, he immersed himself in cultivating the Purple Crystal Spirit Eyes.

“Who is it?” His heart seemed to be filled with anticipation. To a martial fanatic from the mortal realm, everything about this was so mysterious and alluring.

Fang Hui gathered his thoughts. Although he was thrilled to have obtained such a powerful skill, there was still one extremely important matter.

Two sword rays, one golden and one black, streaked across the dark sky like a meteor shower, one after the other, briefly illuminating the gloomy forest.

Because An Ran and Cui Tingting were in the same examination room, Cui Tingting also took out her own test paper.

When he turned to look, Kong Xuan was still kneeling on the floor and copying. His progress was even slower than before; after an entire night, he had written only one line.

Duoduo loved Zhao Xuan’s moral education class most of all. She looked forward to putting her etiquette lessons into practice, and Zhao Xuan’s words encouraged her. After drinking some warm milk, Duoduo quietly went to sleep.

But in order to stand shoulder to shoulder with Brother Dong and the other brothers as soon as possible, he gritted his teeth, sweated through the pain, and persisted step by step.

When everyone saw Brother Dong again at headquarters, their feelings were beyond words. After embracing one another and exchanging greetings...

The moment the Immortal Island docked, the disciples of the Nine Blades Sect who had come to receive them were already waiting on the shore. They had long since prepared to welcome Duyuan’s arrival.

“Why should we be the ones to clean up? Those people were mainly recruited by Jiang Kairan. If anyone should deal with them, it should be him!” Chen Wei pouted.

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At that moment, Duyuan saw that Elder Clay had only recently fallen into demonic possession. He immediately turned one palm inward. When Elder Clay flew forward to counterattack, Duyuan twisted his palm outward.

With a sharp hiss, amid flashes of dazzling light, a strand of sword-spirit energy leaped within his palm and shot toward Elder Clay.

At first, Qin Lie failed several times in succession. Only then did he realize that the dragon’s tooth was an astonishingly hard and domineering object.

Chen Feng casually glanced at Han Jue, who was encased in ice, then nodded at Aixi. Aixi struck Han Jue’s body with her palm, and the icy power sealing him rapidly dissipated. Before long, Han Jue had even regained his breath.

Shao Zifeng stared fixedly at her. When he remembered how she had grabbed him by the collar earlier, he felt as though she had nearly yanked his soul right out of him.

More than ten days later, when Liu Chenyang escorted Wanying back to the Wan residence, the sun was already sinking in the west. Since they had sent word in advance, Master Wan, the First Mistress, the Second Mistress, and the unmarried Second Sister were all waiting in the central hall. As it happened, the eldest sister had also returned to her family home for her annual visit and was there as well.

As the bodyguard spoke, the two burly men beside him moved to drag her away. Before they could get close, however, a slender hand reached out. Its snow-white fingers curved into a half-circle and plunged straight toward the bodyguard’s throat.

The main hall was brightly lit. Outside the doors, members of the Wu family stood guard, their sharp eyes fixed on every movement around them like night owls. They looked ready to draw their blades at the slightest disturbance, creating a truly terrifying sight.

In one second, he drew the hand crossbow. In the next, he pressed down on the mechanism. In the third, the bolt flew out, and he smoothly retrieved the weapon.

Three seconds—an instant, really. Some people had not even seen clearly what had happened, much less realized whether there had just been an assassin standing beside them.

What? A son? Ye Chen was Luo Wushuang’s son? How could that be? Didn’t the Xuanyuan family have only one heir, Xuanyuan Bufan? Could Ye Chen be her illegitimate son?

“We are drinking wine but have not offered any to the two brave warriors. That would be discourteous of us. Someone, bring wine for these two heroes!” Zhang Xiu waved his hand grandly, and servants immediately brought over two cups of wine.

Yun Ting stepped into the main hall of the provincial governor’s residence. As soon as he entered, he saw Ding Yuan seated at the head of the room. Ding Yuan was looking down in thought and did not notice Yun Ting’s arrival until one of the generals beside him reminded him. Only then did he return from his contemplation and raise his head to look at Yun Ting.

With a metallic clang, the sword’s shadow unleashed its tremendous force and pressed Sun Wukong downward. The instant the two collided, a powerful force traveled through the Golden-Banded Staff into both of Sun Wukong’s arms. They went numb, while the impact sent his blood and vital energy surging violently through his body.

The portrait above depicted Yun Ting. Compared with the wanted portrait of Meng Shenji from long ago, it was like night and day. Ink lines outlined Yun Ting’s complete appearance with remarkable vividness. Looking at it, one might even feel that the man on the paper was leering wickedly at them.

Sun Quan had not wanted to give anyone an excuse to accuse him of mistreating his father’s former subordinates, so he had entered without bringing any men. His guards had all remained in the dimensional realm. When they heard Sun Quan roar, they assumed he had been attacked and rushed in, only to discover that there was no assassin—only Ling Cao, who could not even get up from the bed. They could not help but stare in bewilderment.

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