58 A Letter from a Comrade?

Between the two of them, something had grown, yet something else seemed to stand between them, leaving him with a faint sense of loss.

Now, he was at the end of his strength; to stubbornly push forward would not only damage his meridians but, even if he recovered later, his potential would be capped for life, with no hope of further progress.

Thinking of this, Elder Feng could not help but give a bitter smile. Having dealt with cultivators for a long time, he naturally understood their temperaments—none valued dignity and face less than their own lives. Now, treated like this by Yang Ting, how could he feel or accept it?

"I know where it is, but even if I tell you now, there’s no way to retrieve it. Let me first explain what to watch out for on the fifth level of the underground palace," Wu Teng said, turning to Qin Tian.

Elsewhere in this mountain range, Yu Rou and Feng Qing observed the area in secret, their attention especially focused on Yue Que.

The unparalleled God of War’s power was passed down through generations; once granted the title of God of War by the tribe’s great shaman, one could lead the royal army to protect the legitimate line.

At that moment, Yang Yi unleashed the Great Extermination Sword Qi, which to some extent triggered the instinct of the King’s Path Corpse Fiend, awakening the martial arts before him.

It was originally nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well, seldom encountering even Taoists of the True Immortal realm.

But these matters were none of Li Chengjie and his companions’ concern; they were merely spectators, placed near the front due to their connection with Li Chengjie.

Seeing the crowd’s faces flush with shame, Xu Zheng was about to continue his spiel when the door suddenly opened, and a graceful young gentleman stepped out.

Yet just as his excitement rose, it quickly faded. None other than Duo Dao sat on the sofa, a toothpick dangling from his mouth, smiling amiably at Ning Feng.

It should be noted, this was the Dark Ancestral Hall; though not teeming with billions of dark creatures, there were certainly many.

Wu Qianli ran toward the cabin, firing two quick shots and taking the lives of two American soldiers.

The disciples were bewildered; they knew Lin Yuanyuan but, since she rarely appeared at the Carefree Sect, she held little authority. At this moment, no one moved.

He scrutinized his surroundings carefully; upon confirming the door number, he followed its direction toward his target.

Shopkeeper Yang understood the vast implications behind the matter and remained silent, fearing the entire family might be wiped out.

After some time, Ye Zhusheng’s movements slowed; he felt his body stiffen from the cold, even his speech trembling.

Regardless of identity, his level of cultivation alone was enough to magnify their influence completely.

“I know, but some people just insist on playing the fool,” Xin Tian said, crossing her arms with righteous indignation.

Hearing this, Lin Jie’s expression grew grave; sensing the encroaching aura of death, he knew that if he didn’t leave now, he never would.

“Since you want to die, I won’t stop you.” The figure in black flew through the air, massive flames roaring behind him.

“Thank you, Brother Li. Well, I’ll be going then,” Xu Hui said with gratitude, taking her things and heading home.

This was the problem that arose during the third step of cultivation, the Void Dao realm. Between the first and second levels of Dao Silence, there is a transition from transforming emptiness into silence, but how to proceed, Shen Ziyang could not discern.

“Is Bi Xin in the command room?” Feng Yongchang, clearly recognizing the man, grabbed his collar and demanded.

Excluding Xuanfu and Jizhou, most of the troops in northern Zhili had been dispatched by Chongzhen; Liang Tingdong truly had no one to curry favor with.

Like the story, she found a shop for transfer and bought it outright. It was only at night that she took a car home, encountering the notorious gang leader Xue Yang.

Kong Yingda and Changsun Shunde’s words caused a stir among the ministers; Changsun Wuji’s eyes revealed a trace of contemplation.

Luo Zhigang and his men charged headlong into the tank formation outside the town. Ignoring the fierce machine-gun fire, Luo grabbed a tank’s barrel and, with his arms, heaved the entire vehicle up.

Aunt Niu had nothing more to say, so the conversation shifted; the Li family occasionally chimed in as they arrived in town.

During these three days, every table at Sifang Mountain was served with energy meals no lower than third rank. Such extravagant feasts even impressed visiting county clan envoys.

The three-faced stone statue in Chen Feng’s arms grew slightly warm, as if sensing the stone coffin. Yet the statue showed no other change; Chen Feng felt it seemed to regard the coffin and its occupant with reverence.

But as the graceful figure slowly stood, the passion in her eyes faded, replaced by resolve and coldness.

If she could start anew, she would never walk the same path again. Through Ling’er, Bai Yuling, and others, she realized her earlier choices were wrong. She should have trusted herself more; what she thought was her limit was not true limitation but merely a lack of persistence.

“Let’s go take a look,” Ling Zhoutian said, waiting at the door. Shangguan Feng didn’t know what Ling Zhoutian intended, assuming he was leading them to fight the English invaders.

As Cui’er descended to a few hundred zhang above the ground, she saw a head emerging from the incense smoke, surrounded by spirals of smoke with incense burning within. Seeing this, her doubts vanished—she had long suspected the thick smoke was from some kind of burning.

Though Ling Zhoutian had left a few guns, they were few. He hadn’t expected a group of British soldiers here; had he known, they wouldn’t have come to recuperate here.

Li Yifei laughed heartily, leaving Qinglian both laughing and crying helplessly. He walked over and patted Guo Baochuan’s shoulder, gesturing with his eyes toward his mother’s room.