Volume One, Chapter 40: Lantern Riddles? Chen Pingchuan Leaves the Stall Owner Stumped!

Zhu Gaoxu responded and told Qingfeng to settle the bill for the wine. The four of them left the tavern and hurried toward the Taoist's stall.

“Yes!” The five trusted men nodded together and followed behind the King of Blackwater as they departed.

“What’s this? Old Hei, are you getting scared?” Fan Renzian, hearing the man in black question him, immediately turned to look at him and asked with a teasing tone.

The atmosphere at the banquet was lively. Both Feng Ran and Feng Le made a point of toasting Xiao Tian and his companions, and even Feng Ji did the same.

“Ling’er?” Zhang Liang’s face turned pale with fright; how could he not know who Ling’er was, the only disciple of Leng Qiu from Kunlun Mountain? He knew then that he was doomed.

Once the ten fingernails had grown out, they stabbed directly into the bluestone slab! Mao looked at her nails embedded in the stone and nodded with satisfaction, apparently convinced that this time she wouldn’t fail due to slippery hands.

Chen Tang gave a cold smile and nodded at Jia Deng, then slowly undid his coat, revealing a torso covered in scars yet well-muscled.

The skinny man, seeing Fan Youwei go to lift the bluestone slab, didn’t bother to help. Instead, he crossed his arms and waited to watch Fan Youwei dash himself against a stone.

When I woke again, I was on the back of a camel. I slowly regained consciousness, only to see Huang Daxian’s perpetually foul face. It dawned on me that, for fear I might fall off after having fainted, I was now lying on Huang Daxian’s camel.

He Chuan and the long-bearded man’s groups—none of them survived. All were torn to pieces by the beasts. Their souls, too, were absorbed by Ye Qing through the Tree of Life, leaving nothing behind at the scene.

Yu Qiao’s worries were valid and pressing. Besides, neither of them had received any transfer orders yet. They’d already stayed here longer than the promised half year. Officially, it was said to be for recuperation, to adjust physically and mentally, to rest and recover.

Chu Ya held her phone, her thoughts drifting. Eventually, she unlocked the screen and replied to Yan Xu: Don’t come to see me. We’ve broken up. Nothing is owed between us.

Jing’an nodded repeatedly, showing white teeth on a face devoid of flesh, beaming happily at Jingxiang and the Fourth Master.

On the Fourth Master’s side, his thoughts weren’t so simple. Three or five years would surely wear down his longing for you. In truth, there was no need for Long Ying to come help; he simply didn’t like others coveting what was his.

Prince Rui seemed slightly drunk as well, but his eyes revealed deep gratitude. Jingxiang had dared to come up with such a bold scheme for his birth mother, daring to provoke the emperor himself. He worried for her, yet was also happy.

Damao hefted the heavy suitcase and left, while Jingxiang collapsed in tears. After settling her, the Fourth Master called Li Yu, who arrived to find the Fourth Master’s face pale. Alarmed, he asked, “What happened? Are you all right?” When he saw Jingxiang lying on the sofa, he couldn’t help but ask.

Among the dozen or so burly men, the leader looked at Bao Jingyi with disdain. That abrupt voice earlier had come from him.

“Director, you heard it too. I don’t mean to threaten you, but I have no choice. Rest assured, I am a mentor at this academy, and these students are mine as well; I won’t harm them. But it would be a pity if such a grand academy were to be reduced to ruins.” Qin Hao raised his brows as he spoke.

A martial artist who comprehends ‘Ultimate Sublimation’ during the mid-stage of complete inner strength cannot carry that realization into the next realm.

The profits from selling this game belonged entirely to the Luozhou Studio. If not for this condition, Dimension Entertainment’s attempt to buy Luozhou for ten million would be impossible—just from game sales alone, every two hundred thousand units sold brought in ten million; why accept the buyout?

“He’s gone back there!” Xuan Yin’s expression darkened; she understood well that once someone entered, it was almost impossible to come out again.

As soon as Wang Yan and his three disciples approached the gates, they were blocked by several guards. At their shout, a row of archers on the wall drew their bows, aiming at Wang Yan.

“It wasn’t me, I’ve never met Yelü Sun. Sister Qingyuan said she wanted to be with Yelü Sun, even if only for a short time. I didn’t tell her to seek him out.” Apart from weeping, Xie Yixin could only cry, for she had hidden the Peach Blossom Love on her person. Would Brother Zhaowu never trust her again?

Feng Hua did not take her back to Qinghe Lane, but instead turned into another alley. After walking for about the time it takes to drink two cups of tea, they left behind the powdery scents and painted beauties of West Street.

The power of the physical body and the spiritual energy within had both reached their limits, yet the two ginseng fruits had hardly been digested. Wang Yan knew the tribulation cloud was gathering strength, preparing for the eighth round. The longer the preparation, the more terrifying the thunder to come.

He opened his mouth in silence, calling out weakly, but aside from the desire to make a sound, his tongue inside his lips refused to cooperate, leaving him even more mute than a person born without speech.

The Nangong family’s dungeon opened, and the former clan leader Yitlun’s confidants, along with direct descendants of the Yi family, emerged one by one from their cells.

Now, Lin Tianyao and Guo Jing had exchanged over twenty rounds. Those below watched in utter shock, their fists raised high.

Xie Yixin remained silent, watching as Princess Chun, in a state of agitation, rummaged through the bed and cabinets, yet found nothing.

It was clear that the series of changes made by Changmen at this time needed to be weighed for their final significance; this much was evident.

This was a watershed moment—once one succeeded in forming the Nascent Soul, a cultivator’s lifespan could reach a thousand years, or even longer.

Some, however, had utterly fallen, like those who joined the mundane sects. Strictly speaking, many of them were no longer true cultivators. They were merely mortals wielding greater power, driven by worldly desires, having lost the basic motivation to continue on the path of cultivation.