Chapter One Hundred Thirteen: One of the Eighteen Celestial Officials of the Numinous Treasure Sect

At the critical moment, a sudden, thunderous shout rang out: "Lord Wang, hold your hand!"

Liu Chengfeng stood at the mouth of the alley, wearing an oversized, loose-fitting robe. A purple aura shimmered about him, and his expression was grim.

As soon as Lord Wang caught sight of Liu Chengfeng, he waved his hand, and the dozen men in Zhongshan suits immediately halted their advance. Lord Wang’s eyes blazed with the fury of a Vajra, his face as dark as a stagnant pool: "Mr. Liu of the Lingbao Sect? I am currently..."

Liu Chen suddenly felt a sense of helplessness. There was nothing he could do if the other party refused to believe him, though he supposed it made sense; after suffering such humiliation, it would be exceptionally difficult for them to suddenly change their perception of him.

Before long, Li Shuangzi reopened the gates to the demon realm, leading the group as they charged inside. Liu Xiaomang watched them retreat, murmuring to himself, lost in thought.

Jiang Sen said nothing; he merely tossed a pair of trousers to Zhang Tengfei. Changing in front of four grown men was certainly indecorous, but faced with a life-or-death situation, he could not afford to be so self-conscious.

Once he had left, they issued the order to move once more. Clearly, they had succeeded.

Chen’s words caused many to blush with shame; embarrassed, they hung their heads and filed out of the cold drink shop.

Mo Wanli’s pensive gaze met the intelligent yet enchanting eyes reflected in the car window. Both were momentarily stunned.

At the same time, he felt a lingering chill of fear. Working for Xia Gang was perilous; a single mistake could cost him his life.

"Brother Chen, please rest assured, I will definitely deliver the money to you." Recalling how Buffalo had been scared into wetting his pants, Eastern Wolf shivered violently and spoke in a rush.

Unfortunately, ever since Li Tingting began her shift, many had entered the private room, but none were the dashing young prodigies of her dreams. The arrivals were either far too old or bloated with potbellies. Unwilling to lower her standards to become a mistress, Li Tingting continued to wait in anticipation.

"This is not a duel of magic, but a contest of spears." Chen Yuan shook his head, channeling his internal energy. The white snow on the ground gathered rapidly, coalescing in his hands into a seven-foot-long white spear.

"For this servant to discuss poetry with Your Majesty is satisfaction enough! I swear on my life, I would never dare to harbor such delusional ambitions!" Linghua spoke in a steady stream, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Beyond the assault guns, the attacking Chinese forces included a significant number of tanks. The tanks followed closely behind the assault guns, while the infantry trailed further behind; Li Pu could not see them clearly.

At the same time, he utilized his innate Daoist heart to calculate, observing the subtle and seeing the truth. Although he could not use this to comprehend the true Fuxi Five-String Melody, it did allow him to identify several areas for reinforcement.

However, recalling the sensations from practicing those movements earlier, he felt a sense of assurance. Performing those damnable actions while his muscles were aching and numb certainly required a stronger will.

After his meal and the medicinal pellets, Su Lian enjoyed a bowl of sweet milk bird’s nest to wash away the bitterness in her mouth.

Zhang Hu'en scrambled up from the ground and discarded his empty pistol. Gripping a hammer, he looked at the people surrounding him. They were living quite well; apart from their blackened teeth and blood-stained hands, they looked far better off than he did.

Yet, for Sean at this moment, this did not seem to be good news. Once the physical exhaustion faded, the sensation of the electric shocks became even more profound. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, and his rigid posture seemed on the verge of collapsing at any second.

She had only enjoyed a surplus of funds after acknowledging Manager Wang as her godfather. Now, she naturally looked down on five taels of silver, but for Xiang Nu, who had no backing, five taels was equivalent to a year’s wages. And that box of fragrant cakes—if sold, provided they were of good quality, they could fetch at least two taels of silver.