Chapter 62: The Expert Sent from the Capital

At this thought, Shi Yi’s brow twitched. She squeezed through the crowd and was the first to step onto the stairs, coming to stand beside Liang Zhuoqun.

“Everyone, please remain calm!”

A flash of blue vanished from his line of sight. Gu Hansheng instinctively reached out to catch her, but Shi Yi slipped away like an eel and came to stand next to Liang Zhuoqun.

Gu Hansheng’s brows knit tightly.

When the crowd below saw Shi Yi, they all fell silent, eager to hear what she had to say.

Li Hu tilted his head to glance at the white funeral banner beside him, then at the red flag atop the city wall of Great Bamboo City, feeling somewhat puzzled: could this be the legendary soldiers of the Prince’s Manor?

That was strange enough, but what was truly bewildering was that whenever this person approached Lin Yuming, Lin Yuming would be assaulted by an overpowering scent of perfume, so strong it made him dizzy.

He was still dressed in the clothes he had worn in the palace that day. His hair was disheveled, reeking of alcohol, his face flushed from drink and heat—gone was his usual elegant and meticulous demeanor, replaced by a wild, pitiable, and rather repulsive appearance.

Naturally, Lin Yuming would never mention these things. When someone showed him the photograph, he would still put on an expression of admiration and amazement, dramatically stamping his feet and pounding his chest, claiming he had been at home sleeping these past few days and had missed out on such a wonderful time.

Ge Yu had collapsed to the ground, motionless, completely unconscious. His breath was so faint it barely moved his chest over long intervals.

Seeing Zhao Chan lose consciousness, Qin Mu finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the incident was over. But to his surprise, his own body began to move again.

When he was finally jolted awake by a bucket of cold water, he was soaked through, his mouth wide open, gasping for breath, his lungs burning as if they had been torn apart. After about ten minutes, when he had recovered somewhat, the torture resumed.

“You’ll never know if it’s possible without trying!” Li Xiang winked at her, then took her hand. With his other hand, he pushed the shopping cart forward in quick steps, catching up to the old man.

The middle-aged man’s face lit up with joy at her words. He tapped the table happily and said, “You may laugh, but I’ve already been to several supply stores these past days to buy tea. Without a ration ticket, they simply refuse to sell me any. You’ve really helped me out this time.”

Moreover, in the worst-case scenario, if the shock worked, it might even help him recall the previous rescue.

Although his petrification magic didn’t mesh well with the mana array of the magic tower, he didn’t need the tower for sustained attacks. He needed only a single strike—one powerful enough to kill the sea monster in an instant.

As for the Seven-Flame Divine Cauldron, with Zhao Han pouring in more spiritual power, the seven-colored flames surged to many times their previous size. The fire spheres it produced were vast enough that the attacking lotus monsters, despite their shrill cries and fierce momentum, ended up as nothing more than material for the crackling flames, all turned to ashes.

“You’re lying! No, I’m calling the police!” Aunt Wang shouted as she rushed toward the door. She’d just returned from buying groceries and had seen a police car outside. Now she was determined to report this.

That batch of red bronze was cast into 3,000 incense burners, and no more were ever made. When the Xuande Emperor beheld these burners he had personally overseen, each one grand and radiant, he felt an immense sense of accomplishment.

Erxi was, in fact, a part of his own consciousness, one and the same with him; yet the sound of that voice in Liu Ming’s mind was like thunder on a clear day—leaving him utterly stunned and terrified.

Zhao Han gazed up into the void to see dozens of heavenly rivers hanging upside down from the dome of the sky, as though the heavens themselves had been torn open in many places. From those wounds, torrents of water came crashing down, the surging waves roaring so violently that it seemed as if the legendary world-ending flood of myth was being unleashed.