77 Spirits and Deities (9)

The gentle touch that disturbed her dreams made Tong Ruo’s lips itch, causing her brows to furrow as she pouted and murmured a few words. Li Xiao-jie, clever as a monkey, pondered for a long time yet still couldn’t grasp what Li Lu-fei meant by “resignation.” After Yan Zi-luo showed her credentials to the hotel manager, she led her people to Room 1208, opened the door, and stepped inside.

“Why are you avoiding me? He’s just a ‘guard’ of mine. If he deceived me, it could be forgiven—it was for my own good. Why hide from me?” Tang Meng asked again.

“This was your own choice, not mine. If you continue like this, you’ll burn yourself out. I’m only doing this to save you,” Lei Yu said shamelessly to Ling Hua.

She hadn’t felt this way before, but after meeting Shangguan Ao and Lin Xi-ru, she finally believed those philosophical words—sometimes, she really couldn’t help but believe.

Around the hot spring, exquisite walls of Jingwei stone rose seven or eight meters above the lake’s surface. Fragrant mist drifted from the spring, while cherry blossoms and fiery red fruit scattered their petals and fluff, fluttering down into the clear pool, layering and floating atop the water.

Obabuma watched Lei Yu slowly descend from the sky, his eyes blazing, and even more incredulous.

Perhaps it was because of that one glance that he remembered her, daring to trespass into her palace, only to encounter her mother. That night, she nearly failed to save him.

Yet with Helan Yao’s smile, those outside the room, who had relaxed their vigilance, instantly became alert again.

Hao Ren fully understood the thoughts of these three. Though he didn’t know which house the young Mongolian noble across belonged to, he was sure that anyone able to bring so many Seme and Hui followers was no ordinary figure. Hao Ren said little, motioning his guards to clear the path, respectfully seeing the three off.

“Huan, brother, we’ve returned,” Ning Chong said, seeing Huan Ling personally come out to greet them, hurrying forward to speak first.

Mao Leyan looked at the dark medicinal brew and drank it all in one go, its bitter-sweet flavor lingering in her mouth. She tidied up, took her scissors and sickle, and headed into the mountains.

Since the Shanghai City Tournament began, almost all internet cafes in the region were bustling. Many who usually played League of Legends at home now flocked to the net bars.

Seeing Gan Ran dismiss Empress Zhou with a few words, the atmosphere in Detai Palace was uncertain—whether relieved or tense, it was hard to say. Concubine Shen pursed her lips, unsure whether she should break the awkward silence.

It’s not that Shi Yi lacked compassion, but some matters require trust. Shi Yi had suffered losses before and learned his lesson, seldom volunteering for such affairs—so why this time?

King Jing glanced at her, noticing the faint sorrow in her brows. He secretly guessed at her past, then shook his head. They were merely passing strangers, unlikely to meet again. Her identity and history were none of his concern.

The sect master of the Thick Earth Sect, Huang Long, was Huang Yu’s elder cousin. That meant Huang Yu was also from the sect.

As a future star of the alliance, there was no need to worry about endorsements—it was only a matter of time.

According to the merchants, most of those with status among the Donghao people lived in the Lingbo Terrace.

Qi Yuanwu stroked his chin, absent-mindedly responding to the curious anti-stab vest. Qingjian Liuli watched his expression suspiciously, suddenly feeling he harbored other intentions, likely up to no good.

Hu Jin stopped at the manor gates, curling his lip in disdain, clearly unimpressed by such ostentatious displays of wealth.

Driven by such fear, he called Tom Hagen, the Corleone family’s strategist, unable to control himself as he issued threats.

Liu Ting’s identity was well known to Mad Rat and Giant Lion. Mad Rat had even privately asked Lin Yi for advice on how to punish Liu Ting.

They had agreed to meet near the ruined bottled water factory, a convenient spot for transport.

Fortunately, he wasn’t foolish enough to shout that in front of Qin Xinglie, or else Qin Xinglie might have slapped him to death.

Although I don’t understand Chu Ting’s motive for adopting Sang Ji, he always has his reasons for his actions.

His face was stern, his eyes red. To an outsider, he looked as if he were about to confront a great villain.

This time, before the security guard could speak, Ye Feng darted forward, and in the blink of an eye, the stun baton was in his hand. He tapped the guard repeatedly, making him howl and scream for his parents—terrifying indeed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ming Long appeared, wielding the Dragon Soul Spear, blocking Can’s path and withstanding an attack from the Yin-Yang Bell.

Unlike the arrogant Jamila, the Purgatory Tree Demon, who had only evolved once in centuries, would not keep its distance from enemies or weigh the odds before attacking.

Almost instantly, the tiger’s paw seemed to suffer a powerful blow, trembling violently as its growls and roars grew even fiercer, full of rage.

Liu Shihan was startled—she had rarely seen Ye Feng so angry and serious, and now she stared at him helplessly, afraid to speak.

The ruffian’s eyes twitched reflexively, then his brows knotted, ready to erupt like a volcano.

Wen Xu had eaten dog meat before, but never such a prized breed as a Tibetan mastiff. Staring at the steaming soup, he couldn’t help feeling eager.

Duan Song and Le Tian had just walked a few steps to the roadside, where I saw Le Tian light a cigarette for Duan Song, and the two hadn’t even spoken yet.