Volume One, Chapter 93: Expulsion

Su Ningxia quickly regained her composure. In this era, child traffickers were still rampant, especially near schools—taking a child away was as easy as turning a hand. The majestic statue of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven loomed overhead, and a flash of scarlet flickered in its hollow eyes. Then, with a miserable scream, Niu Gang fell to the ground once more—Chai Hua did not evade, blocking with his left arm and launching a lightning-fast punch with his right, striking Niu Gang directly in the left eye. The blow landed squarely, and Niu Gang collapsed.

In the end, Zhang Ming shook his head, refusing to dwell on these matters. He would take life step by step; overthinking would solve nothing. Some things couldn’t be resolved by mere thought. Zhang Ming didn’t believe in fate, but he firmly believed that as long as one worked hard in the right direction, results would surely follow.

“But just now, I clearly felt you enjoying yourself as well, wrapped in my broad and generous embrace. Didn’t you feel a moment of happiness then?” Gao Jun smiled, his voice low, elegant, and magnetic.

“So what if I am impatient?” the King of Qiongyu retorted, sensing clearly that the man before him was a formidable opponent. Given the current situation, this burly man could tear him apart effortlessly, yet the King of Qiongyu showed not a trace of fear.

But when word spread that Xiao Long had another legacy to bestow, everyone’s excitement was palpable. After all, anything Xiao Long called a legacy was bound to be a tremendous fortune—how could they not be thrilled?

As he stood up, the flesh and blood on his face quickly filled out, transforming into a radiant, jade-like handsome man.

Yet Leng Bing and his men paid no heed to the policeman. The officer, humiliated, drew his pistol in a rage. With a thunderous bang, the lobby of the Overseas Chinese Grand Hotel was shaken to its core.

“Well done!” Ye Meng pressed two fingers together, and a pure sword intent collided and merged with that of the Barbarian God’s blade, both vanishing into nothingness at last.

What met his eyes was a simple thatched roof. Sunlight slipped through the gaps, trailing down like gauzy ribbons and spilling over his body.

He was the very definition of someone who found it easy to give advice while standing on the sidelines. For that vengeful ghost formed from the mingled spirits of several Yin entities to dissipate, the only living fugitive would have to die.

Yet that sensation lasted but an instant. Wei Wuji knew well that, for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand.

Wei Wuji, what are you trying to prove? Wearing armor to court—do you intend to flaunt your authority before the ministers?

Amid the surging, wave-like howls, led by the Elder with the Blade Palm, faces twisted with discomfort, as if they’d been jolted awake by the sudden, vicious howling of wolves in their own homes.

Writing a letter was like reading one for Li Qing—slow and deliberate, each sentence weighed with care. Since ancient times, serving a ruler was like serving a tiger; history was stained with blood, and Li Qing could not afford a single mistake.

“Really?” A glint of suspicion flickered in Ranko Nakagawa’s eyes as she glanced sidelong at the lecherous face of Takeshi Ohno.

“I never thought you two would come. Make yourselves comfortable.” Xu Zhixin gestured to the sofa, then turned to fetch milk from the fridge for them.

In an instant, a faint current of energy swelled like a dragon soaring into the sky, filling the space between heaven and earth.

If it came to choosing sides, Kakashi would side with the Hokage. The Uchiha clan was simply too extreme; if their innate sense of superiority ever ruled Konoha, the consequences were all too clear.

Her cheeks were flushed, sweat dampened the loose strands of her parted bangs, and fine beads of moisture glistened on her brow and the tip of her nose. She frowned slightly, overcome by the stifling heat.

On the retreat, he had already called Zhao Shanhe, going over the events in detail, emphasizing the opponent’s formidable strength. He’d risked his life to rescue Zhao Heng, and subtly hinted that Zhao Dahai might, in a fit of rage, kill him indiscriminately to vent his anger.

Could it be, as Luo Qingran said, that the Prince of Luo had once again retreated—and now, at this point, had given up defending his homeland?

The tattooed man fell silent for a moment—there were important matters at hand, best not to make a scene and attract the police.

Though describing Wen Jiulan—a towering young man nearly two meters tall with long legs—as “adorable” might seem odd, it was genuinely how Qi Youmian felt.

“When I first met you, Master Lu was already impressive, but compared to now, you were missing something.” Guan Jian grinned.

Now, seeing the Sovereign so furious, everyone present was immediately taken aback.

Su Changge’s face radiated wild joy. Standing firmly on the ground, he felt an unprecedented sense of fulfillment rising from his feet—the same feeling he’d once sensed atop the Green Peak Tower, when his power soared to new heights.

Wen Jiulan immediately left the nurse behind and hurried after the slowly moving hospital bed.

Now, she had already won first place at the Chopin International Piano Competition and was about to embark on a world tour, becoming a globally renowned piano virtuoso—her dream within reach.

With the support of these pills, everyone’s morale soared, their attacks more ferocious, and the crumbling defenses quickly stabilized.

Though Yang Tian’s fighting spirit remained undiminished, his shattered shoulder, hands stripped to the bone, and bloodied coughs painted a truly tragic picture.

Wu Lei grinned and nodded in satisfaction. This “Giant Spirit Bell” pleased him greatly; by comparison, the other four superior spiritual artifacts were mere scraps.