Chapter 60: The Actress of Jinling, Bai Bing

Throughout the entire night, Chen Yang meticulously crafted a detailed formula. With the aid of the Spirit Spring’s power, even an ordinary apothecary could now refine the Minor Essence Pill. The next day, Chen Yang handed a jar of Spirit Spring water and the pill recipe to Zhou Tianhao.

Receiving the spring water and formula, Zhou Tianhao’s face lit up with excitement. He vowed earnestly, “Rest assured, Mr. Chen, I’ll handle this matter beautifully!”

...

Even with just a little thought, Rou understood perfectly well what Zhongtian Real Estate meant to Ye Shanghan’s ambitions in Yanbei City.

Judging by the parents’ expressions, if they hadn’t been worried about disturbing their children, they might have taken matters into their own hands and given Guan Erya a beating.

The young man was visibly anxious, fear etched on his face. Just as he was filled with apprehension, Sun Fei and his group strolled up to the building’s entrance.

At these words, the courtyard erupted into an uproar among the soldiers and police. How could anyone have such a son—so utterly devoid of humanity, so deranged? Was he even still human?

“How beautiful! I've been here several times before, but how did I never notice?” Guo Yongchao said to Nan Nan.

It wasn’t just her head—her fingers were going numb as well. Honestly, she was filled with regret: if she’d known things would turn out this way, she would never have handed over her last sliver of spirit sense to that fellow. But there was no retrieving it now.

Xiao Yong’s spiritual power, tinged with divine energy, reached the wound, wrapped around the tendons and veins, and began devouring the divine power Liu Ji had left behind. Meanwhile, the pill fire attacked the baleful energy in the wound, weakening its force.

Years ago, a massive riot had erupted here, involving a hundred thousand people. The local Japanese garrison was repeatedly defeated, and in the end, only a large-scale deployment of regular troops managed to suppress the uprising by force.

Seeing Xiao Yong attack him again instead of fleeing, he was startled. Without thinking, he countered with a palm strike.

“Alright, it’s settled. When the sun sets and the heat fades, I’ll take you all there. The weather will be pleasant then. For now, why not rest a bit?” Lin Musen continued.

Who doesn’t long for a respectable identity? But without the right opportunity, the orthodox sects look down on those from unorthodox paths. Gaining entry is nearly impossible. Once accepted, though, it’s as if you’ve gained status—a place among the immortals, access to the sect’s secret techniques. That’s extraordinary. Huang Laoqi would be more shocked than if he’d seen a living ghost.

After walking a considerable distance, Gu Qingli entered a boutique specializing in sheath dresses. The shop was filled entirely with silver-threaded evening gowns, each petal adorned with tiny crystals that sparkled under the lights.

Thus, Heavenly Retribution craved power desperately, but his own potential had reached its limit. Driven by desperation, he began to consider other means.

Before the words had faded, someone had already produced their identity card. The others quickly caught on, scrambling to produce their cards. In an instant, all the “Protect the Vitality Tower” missions were snatched up. Those who succeeded beamed with joy, while those who missed out hung their heads in dismay.

His old thermos, companion of many years, was still there, the cup brimming with water—yet not a drop remained for him. It was just gone, suddenly, without warning. Even with his nerves of steel, Old Liu’s knees went weak from fear. It wasn’t just weakness—he was keenly aware that the pair of gloomy, deathly eyes from his dream was once again fixed upon him.

A white-haired old man in a blue tracksuit suddenly appeared before Wu Qingcheng, his cold, indifferent eyes scrutinizing Fang Hao and the people behind him.

Grand Consort Gao sat on the couch, a brocade quilt behind her. At thirty-six, she looked surprisingly well, showing little sign of illness, though faint traces of concern etched her brow. Even so, the grace and beauty of her youth still lingered unmistakably.

Xiang Ningxuan explained the workings of the gene laboratory and the origins of the dragon eggs to Alexstrasza.

Tomorrow, we’ll head north—never south. The sea is teeming with fish, and entering it is as good as courting death.