Chapter 45: Ill Intent

At this moment, his fists whistled through the air, blue veins bulging on his arms. His bronze skin looked as if it were cast from copper and iron, and a ferocious gale stirred the surrounding area, sending dust, stones, and falling leaves flying wildly through the woods.

As the overpowering blade qi descended, the searing, scorching magma was instantly cleaved in two. The massive pool of magma split apart to both sides, creating a tremendous momentum and a particularly spectacular sight, accompanied by a shrill, furious roar.

"No, I'm going to go drinking right now. If you dare to stop me again, I'm going to scream!" Seeing that Linlin completely ignored him, Marquis looked at her and said, "Linlin, if you keep acting like this, don't blame me for being impolite with you." With that, Marquis waved his hand, and a surge of magical power directly trapped Linlin.

Such an army naturally mattered little in peacetime, but once a true war broke out, their true colors would be exposed. It even left the Jurchen army, which later marched south, utterly perplexed: Didn't they say the Song army was vast? Why are the only ones fighting us just these few people?

Seeing this, Li Yunhui felt there was no need to follow any further, nor was he entirely at ease about his master. Since night had already fallen, Li Yunhui hurriedly flew back.

Jiang De rubbed his temples. He seemed to have indeed forgotten to instruct Wang Ming to send men to guard this place and prevent outsiders from wandering in at will. Fortunately, these mischievous kids discovered the issue, otherwise, had outsiders seen this in the future, it would have been a disaster.

Every morning, the large stone mill at the head of Shimo Village would start buzzing with activity. Young and old villagers alike would carry bowls of soybeans, lining up neatly beside the mill, waiting for their soaked soybeans to be ground into paste.

One must know that Miyamoto Musashi, as one of the ten most mysterious upper shinobi of Fusang, was no undeserving reputation.

That incantation was not an offensive spell, so he felt nothing unusual. As he stepped up the stairs and reached the doorway, he suddenly came to a halt.

"Deputy Commander You!" This messenger was extremely respectful toward You Jingyan, stepping forward to greet him the moment he saw him.

Although Liu Ju did not finish his sentence, Chu Fei and the others all understood what he meant. Their hearts sank involuntarily, and they cast a sympathetic look at Liu Ju.

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Born because of Luo Zheng, she nevertheless possessed a complete personality, independent consciousness, and a desire to continue surviving.

She flung the items Gu Qingxue had brought fiercely out the door, denying her even the chance to speak before slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

Sensing his movement, Luo Zheng flashed sideways, not only dodging Gu Changye, but even counter-attacking with a reverse grab, tightly seizing his wrist.

With every single word he uttered, he threw a punch—a textbook example of landing blows squarely on flesh. In just a split second, the reasonably handsome Fang Dongxu was beaten black and blue, with fresh blood streaming from his mouth and nose.

"Isn't the Jin family's Seventy-Nine Forms of Fatal Sword extremely powerful? Could it be that you don't know it?" Dong Xianling asked curiously.

Mountain ranges stretched on endlessly. Today, Jiang Xing stood atop the peak of the Second Mountain, gazing at the rolling, interlocking ranges as if he were situated in a special dimension. The terrain of these mountains reminded him of the Dragon Vein Mountains, linked head-to-tail, with a village nestled quietly within them.

"I'm going to change my clothes." Fang Sheng had been drenched like a drowned rat, his head crowned with green metaphorical grass, and his clothes covered entirely in fish soup.

"Senior Brother Ding, searching like this isn't getting us anywhere. Why don't we pause and restore our soul power in place?" Chu Fei looked at the somewhat exhausted Zhuge Qianxue and spoke up.

Everyone's eyes lit up. There were many kinds of ginseng, and snow ginseng was the rarest of them all. A ten-year-old snow ginseng was an absolute, hard-to-come-by treasure within their esoteric cultivation circles.

He swept a glance over Mefei, his gaze finally resting on the Golden-Hooped Rod, where the tip of the staff was visibly deformed, bearing the deep imprint of a heavy mace.

The crowd queuing up to enter the city was engaged in heated discussion. Qin Zheng and his entourage slowly moved forward with the queue while silently listening in, until suddenly, a particular remark caught his attention.

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Mefei swept his palm outward, unleashing a single finger imprint. This was Ge Fei's Thirteen Forms of the "Nirvana Finger," but given his aptitude, he could not master such profound and arcane celestial martial arts. Over six hundred years, he had only managed to comprehend the first three forms, and this was the first form: Pointing to the Myriad Realms of Mystery.

However, those were spells born purely for destruction and creation, lacking any ability to conjure matter out of thin air. The team fell into a remarkably awkward predicament for a time, with only those who were usually gluttonous maintaining normal expressions, though even they felt too embarrassed to enjoy their hidden snacks alone.

"Push, we can break through one of their high-tech lanes!" When the "Ace" system announcement echoed across Summoner's Rift, I frantically pinged the enemy's highland defense tower.

My heart relaxed slightly; at least this doctor didn't let Mr. Huang die an unjust death by missing the treatment window. That could be considered a misfortune among the greatest fortunes.

It seems that money isn't necessarily a good thing after all. Sometimes it truly is wonderful, while other times money can drag a person straight into a coffin, yet a person can never take their wealth into the coffin with them.

Finally, amid the watchful gazes of everyone, the operating room doors swung open. Elderly Dr. Gong walked out looking utterly exhausted, followed by several medical staff members.

That was back in 2011, just a year after I graduated. I had just bought a car, hadn't even finished the break-in period, and had never driven out of Rencheng, let alone out of Panyu. Suddenly having to drive all the way to Huizhou left my heart hanging in my throat. But there was no choice; listening to my cousin's anxious tone, I had to grit my teeth and go through with it.

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