"Come to my most beloved younger brother, will you?" Lang Wang held a pill, looking directly at Yuan Wang.

It turned out that after Huangfu Qi regained the use of his legs, his Xuan-level martial arts skills were affected, never reaching the previous state of perfection. This forced him to return to the training grounds for more practice.

"I think I should just swallow it, let it turn into a fart inside me, and then everything will be perfectly fine!" The Green Lion mumbled, stepping back.

Hearing Ye Li unconsciously soften his tone made Yuan Wang’s heart tremble slightly. What was this feeling?

Qi Shi Xuan’s initial disgust finally eased a bit as she thought to herself, *Yes, I’m doing all this for the Qi family.*

"This Spirit Stone Airship doesn't belong to the level of innate artifacts, so why is it so expensive?" Lu Tianming asked curiously as he held the Spirit Stone Airship, feeling that it seemed different from what he had seen in Changsheng Valley.

Noticing the changing expressions of those causing trouble, Shen Yafei and the others smirked disdainfully.

With a gesture of her jade-like hand, spells began to emerge, and with a "boom," a dazzling light burst forth.

"What is happening here? Wang Zhan and Wang De, what are you doing?" Helian questioned the two brothers, who were supposed to be protecting Ye Liang.

Leaving the teaching building, Luo Yao felt a bit excited, as today Qin Junyan was coming over.

Xin Menglong, meanwhile, dedicated himself to cultivation while striving to be flawless in his dealings with others.

"Prayer is really nothing more than psychological comfort. You recite words as beautifully as poetry, then calm your mind to seek solace," commented a believer, clearly resolved in their belief.

"Waiter, please go buy ten yuan’s worth of glass beef," Yang Jiahui called to the waiter.

Yi Qiu's face, half-covered by his cap, appeared stark white. A shadow divided his face in two—a ghostly pale side in the light and a keen gleam under the shadow.

The appearance of the Dream Cult gave Yi Qiu a sense of something predestined. It seemed to represent something, but with the little information he had, he couldn’t confirm his suspicions.

A subtle glint flickered in his eyes, but ultimately, he crossed his arms, standing with his hands behind his back, waiting for Jiang Minyi to make her move.

People often have a misplaced desire to boast, and he recounted every detail of his shooting of Ji Yunqing with a smug expression.

Passing a hurried traveler, they even saw the husky from the trio of sled dogs.

She had received her first month’s pay—over five thousand yuan after taxes. For Luo Yao, it was quite a lot, and she figured that it would cover her college expenses comfortably.

However, if she went to the camp in the attire of the Dayan Kingdom, even if all the Tiger Soldiers were dead, the years of accumulated hatred between nations would keep Ye Zhen from stepping a foot inside.

When the enemy held back from entering the formation for a long time, everyone understood that it was Huo Tainan’s presence that had intimidated them. Just by playing his zither and singing, he could keep the enemy at bay—an act of honor surpassing that of bloody battles on the field.

"How kind of the consort," Tuya muttered, feeling somewhat unsettled at how smoothly things had been resolved.

"Auntie, I'll go with you tomorrow. Don’t worry; these are Han Shangyang’s people. Let’s not risk any chaos that could get you hurt," said Tang Chen, his face showing a hint of concern.

Butler Mo’s face suddenly reddened, though he would never tell Qiao Ying that he had already chosen these two names every time they "fought" in bed since marrying her.

"Alright," Hua Weiluo nodded and looked over at Zhishan, whose deep, dark eyes were fixed on her, unmoving.

*There’s no other way. My abilities are limited; in this life, I can’t even think of dealing with the Nine Ministers. All I can do is end my own life.* Hua Xiaoluo’s face was filled with sorrow.

Qing Li woke up with a start, her groggy eyes struggling against the bright light streaming through the paper window. She sat half-awake on the edge of the bed, realizing that there was no need to perform morning greetings today, though a slight bitterness lingered in her heart.

A longevity lock shaped like a ruyi hung around Yong Heng’s neck—a piece specially commissioned by Hongli. On the front, it was engraved with "Longevity and Wealth," and on the back, "Fortune and Longevity."

If that were indeed the case, those who were initially eager to join the fray would have no choice but to stand down, feeling disappointed. Their anticipation shifted from excitement to mere observation.

Sima Haixue’s repeated "misses" were right in front of him, yet he was powerless. With the slowed passage of time, he couldn’t keep up.

"What are you staring at?" Wen Qichen’s eyes widened. Though she was in her mid-thirties, she looked barely thirty. I remembered the old seer describing her as fiery, and it didn’t bode well.

Zhou Yanan didn’t even want to look at Ping'er, who seemed nothing but shameful with her crazed demeanor.

Weisa’s use of the word “handle” was quite nuanced, causing Tang Qian and Wen Qin’s hairs to stand on end.

Yes, their master’s decisions wouldn’t be swayed by anyone. Knowing him, he likely had more plans up his sleeve, and he would never be easy prey.

As they spoke, an elderly man dressed like a Daoist emerged from the room. He bore a resemblance to Master Zhang, likely his elder brother, Xuan Ming—the current Zhang Heavenly Master.

"Idiot, scram! I’m going to sleep!" spat the old blind man, refusing to say anything more.

Before long, a ball of magical fire was lit. A green light, trailing gray-black smoke, shot up into the sky.

This giant was a resurrected Heavenly Demon, restored to ninety percent of his strength over nearly a century. Now he was far stronger than at the time of his dissolution, which was why the Demon Clan had been so active recently.

"Mark! Duck!" Lily fired a red beam from her wand, striking the Shivana Roofwalker aiming at her husband. Her magic obliterated the enemy’s eyes, causing him to howl in pain, dropping his dagger as he crouched in agony.