Volume 1, Chapter 40: Legend of the Shrew Atop the Star-Plucking Tower

Qin Zheng could not help glancing at Xie Qingluan again, unable to suppress a smile.
Junior, do you happen to have a grudge against her?
He mentally retraced every face that had ever crossed their path in the dormitory, yet still could not fathom why Zhao Su was acting with such unshakeable confidence.

"Having walked through the mist and rain of tranquil lakes and traversed the mountains and rivers of time, those who have weathered tribulations and tasted all the flavors of life will emerge all the more vibrant and undefiled." It is precisely those unforgettable experiences that have forged our present strength and enriched our lives.

At this moment, however, the fiercely battling Old Ancestor Tianhe suddenly found his breath turning shallow, his eyes flushing crimson.

"Rest assured, Young Master Han, we keep our word. Since Xinghe dared to provoke the Four Great Clans openly, its bankruptcy is only a matter of time," an elder leaning on a dragon-headed cane chimed in.

Driven by spiritual energy, three hundred wind-summoning talismans whipped up a gale above the skies of Capital City, forming a ring that surged outward.

Everyone looked up simultaneously, instantly freezing in utter astonishment: against a sky painted with twilight clouds, a crimson giant stood with its back to the setting sun and its face toward the crowd.

Demonic cultivators cared only for themselves and had always possessed formidable combat prowess; to provoke even one of them could spell endless trouble.

Consequently, what the audience saw was him holding Wen Yu while eating a Pocky stick, gently swaying their bodies in unison.

By this time, Steward Wan had finished communicating with the on-duty disciple at the front desk and walked over with a cheerful smile.

The Fire Child and Water Child kept a close watch over everything in Peach Blossom Village, turning a blind eye to the spirits coming to fetch water as long as they gathered it and departed immediately.

As I ventured further forward, the peach wood grew increasingly lush. By the time I reached the end, the ruined peach trees on Mount Taozhi had all been fully restored—except that these peach trees, ordinarily mundane, were now glowing with brilliant radiance, electric currents dancing ceaselessly across their trunks as if to declare "mortals keep away."

Though the gap between a Hall Master and an Altar Master was merely a single rank, within the hierarchy of the Phantom assassins, the two were worlds apart.

She stared fixedly at the blood-stained robe, yet remained rooted to the spot, her mind a chaotic mess akin to the aftermath of a rampaging flood.

Shen Liao watched coldly from the sidelines, revealing no emotion, though a trace of quiet disappointment stirred within him. He had harbored a hidden agenda in inviting everyone to this banquet; as for the true purpose, only two or three people present vaguely grasped his intent.

Yet Qin Mu'an waited the entire morning without a single customer showing up—let alone buying anything, not a soul even stepped foot inside his shop. After all, such items were meant for young ladies, and upon catching sight of the place, they would murmur, "Oh, a newly opened shop selling menstrual pads."

The cast relied on the same few actors over and over again, whose performances simply could not match the high standards demanded by Yan Kuan.

It is also high time you concubines learned that the first to bear a child must be our Junzhuo.

There was only a single disciple of the Sword Saint, a position yearned for by all, and no one wished to see that sole honor fall to another. If Jing Che truly were the one, jealousy would inevitably flare among the crowd—for every single person here was an elite selected from tens of thousands, each harboring burning ambitions, only to be swallowed up and obscured among the multitude of disciples in Nanqiong.

Let alone him, even Han Dongzhu, who was currently at the height of her popularity, would have to respectfully address Ye Qing as Teacher Ye.

Though he outwardly seemed resistant to the cause of restoring the nation, in truth, he merely opposed the foolish approach of striking a rock with an egg; if he possessed formidable leverage capable of overturning the political landscape in one stroke, he would undoubtedly give it his all.

"You have been engaged in intense combat for a long time; I can afford to wait half an hour before we fight," the man named Xinghen said coldly to Feng Yaotian.

Deep within the forest outside the city, a brutal slaughter was underway, though it was evidently a hopelessly lopsided battle. Several figures in demonic attire were jointly assaulting a scholar clad in cyan Confucian robes. The scholar had already sustained numerous wounds across his body, blood flowing incessantly, yet he stubbornly held his ground.