Chapter 63

"Ha! My revenge is too heavy for you alone to bear. I want your entire Wudang Sect to be buried with my master, and that Taoist with the single eyebrow! Prepare to meet your doom as well!" Zhang Fan said with a vicious snarl.

Although the world-shocking fiend held no hostility toward him, Fang Chen still felt a lingering sense of unease. Taking the initiative, he bowed and cupped his fists toward the fiend.

Mind you, she didn't even care about Nan Jinhao, the King of Southern Frontier who possessed supernatural abilities aided by the Ten Directions World; would she fear an ordinary person without any powers?

Xue Mingyu had always kept his distance from such matters. His sole focus was on caring for and protecting Mu Jiao, yet he rarely discussed matters of the heart with her.

Watching her walk toward him step by step, Mu Jiao's pupils contracted slightly, but her expression remained calm, devoid of ripples as she met Wen Qianqian's gaze directly.

Word had it that Liu Mo had established an empress, but that empress remained deeply secluded within the imperial palace, rarely venturing outside. Scarcely anyone within the palace had even laid eyes on her.

Now that someone had voiced the question, the others who shared the same anxiety involuntarily paused in their eating. Stretching out their necks, they watched the camp cook distributing the rations, eager to hear how he would respond.

Mu Jiao felt as though someone had plunged a blade viciously into her chest—right at the very center of her heart—leaving her pain utterly exposed with nowhere to hide.

With He Yankai now at the helm of the family, and given his current state, it was entirely impossible for him to make decisions any longer. The household had effectively been handed over to He Yankai.

Sitting beside him, Bai Mengni watched as he clearly struggled to suppress the fury raging within his body, and proceeded to pour him cup after cup of plain water unhurriedly.

Jiang Feng reined in his stray thoughts and looked at Gu Qi, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes. In the future, this man would grow into the world-shaking Emperor Gu Qi. Should he kill him, or not? He had dispatched Mu Jing and the others to Tsarist Russia precisely to eliminate this hidden trouble, yet when faced with the moment, Jiang Feng hesitated—not because of Liu Batian, but because of Tsarist Russia.

Guangyuan narrowed his eyes. "Relying on the White Thunder's trait to briefly merge into the void without the ability to carry anyone along—it certainly wasn't him. That is the final verdict of His Majesty the Beast Emperor. Are you questioning His Majesty's verdict?"

"Mn," Murong Qingran acknowledged softly. She gently lifted the crimson silk gauze with her fingertips to veil her cheeks before stepping out of the carriage.

Immediately afterward, a wave of biting cold surged straight into Ke Qingshen's right palm. Daring not to be careless, he sat cross-legged on the spot and channeled his internal energy to force out the chill. Seeing the pain etched across Ke Qingshen's face and realizing he had been invaded by Nangong Po's Heavenly Demonic Arts, Monk Tianlong strode over and pressed his palm against Ke Qingshen's shoulder, using his own vital energy to assist him in repelling the cold.

"Damn it!" Qin Zhao could not help cursing, feeling thoroughly aggrieved. The things this fellow had pulled today were genuinely repulsive.

This time, they were not looking to open another couple of bottles of liquor to drink with Ye Xiu; this time, they intended to snatch up the chairs beneath them and smash them directly over Ye Xiu's head.

Pang Siyuan gazed steadily at Situ Kong for a moment before speaking. "Alright, I understand. Rest assured, although the communications have been sabotaged, certain signals can still be transmitted. I will be able to establish contact with Beijing in half a month at the latest."

As the news of the upcoming marriage between the Situ and Qin families was announced, an uproar instantly swept through the entire Southwest City.

Holding no weapons whatsoever, Murong Qingran uttered not another word. With a cold sweep of her phoenix-like eyes, she already hurled her fist toward Guimei.

Yan Xu was consumed by fury. Where on earth had this ice-ability user popped up from? Could he be one of Jiang Feng's people? Yet, for some reason, he found this young man somewhat familiar.

Charles smiled without answering. Instead, he exchanged a few words with a guard at the gate, who immediately turned and strode into the estate.

Tian Haihua wore a thoughtful expression. Although stirred by the conversation, he remained convinced that his chosen candidate was the right one, whereas Shao Jingchuan had been profoundly moved.

His boots were stained with water. However, it mattered little; these were the [Ethereal Boots] from the Dark Moon Set, crafted from superior leather materials with flawless sealing. As Charles waded through the water away from the respawn area, the soles of his feet felt not the slightest hint of dampness.

Even if the car had been purchased a while ago, the big brick mobile phone had only been bought a few days prior—activated merely in the past couple of days. How on earth did even Ji Wanru find out about it?

At that moment, Ferdinand's adjutant, Solonik, who had temporarily withdrawn outside the lounge, pushed open the door once more and shuffled into the living room.

Along a stretch of road merely a few kilometers long, Lu Weimin had already spotted several newly paved rudimentary roads connecting to this branch route. Workers could be seen starting operations on slightly undulating slopes, and the roars of heavy bulldozers and loaders echoed intermittently, bearing ample witness to the dramatic transformation of this region.

Zhang Ye was speechless. Before he could even figure out what was happening, he was dragged by the old man to the entrance of a traditional courtyard. Stepping inside, he saw no one else around—uncertain whether the entire compound belonged to their family—and the old man hauled him straight into the northern room.

Lucia stood in deep contemplation before the statue of Ogma. After an unknown lapse of time, a voice echoing faintly in the depths of her soul startled the high priestess back to reality.

You cannot escape his membrane attack; next, you will be spun into a cocoon, and following that, your flesh will be eroded into a pool of bloody slush by his dark-attribute primeval force.

Holding a jar of preserved plums and tomatoes, she stepped gracefully in her flower-pot platform shoes and strolled leisurely back toward the room.