How Many Dreams in a Fleeting Life, Part One

For the past few days, Tiesheng Shan had been busy and hadn’t come to the training hall to instruct him. Now, he suddenly called for him. Could it be that he had discovered his breakthrough into the late Da Fan realm?

Although there was little actual damage, the explosive force made the Glass Fire Serpent stagger and fall to the ground.

Still, it was only a limited improvement. After Huang Qingping left, few people spoke to Chang Ming, continuing to treat him as if he didn’t exist.

The soul of an adult trapped in the body of an infant: it was a torment, a cruel ordeal. The inconveniences were endless, the mind and body utterly mismatched. It felt like trying to install Windows XP on a 286 machine—it simply wouldn’t run.

Seeing Rails unharmed, the two men were momentarily stunned, expecting him to take revenge. But when they noticed Rails sitting motionless on his chair, they exchanged looks and began to laugh, schadenfreude flickering across their faces.

As Zhao Yang unleashed his sword, the smile on his face blossomed fully. He was almost certain Wu Qi had no chance or means to resist. This was his all-out attack: the might of a single sword. Zhao Yang was confident that even other Nascent Soul cultivators could not evade it—they would have to take the blow head-on.

Zhou Jian hesitantly grasped Li’s arm. Her fair skin glowed with a faint blush, like evening clouds reflected on snow—so beautiful it seemed a crime to mar such porcelain perfection.

This thought struck them like a sledgehammer to the heart. If even the outermost city was so vast and magnificent, the others would surely be even grander.

“Why didn’t he kill Dink?” Suddenly, everyone’s focus shifted—not to who had secretly aided Rails, but to why Rails had spared Dink’s life.

Sure enough, a mass of red insects on the water’s surface began writhing frantically, as if lashed by a whip, or like fish leaping desperately against capture, their bodies thrashing ceaselessly.

In response to these arguments, the court dared not openly support them, but instead fanned the flames in secret—after all, this was a chance to shift much of the blame away.

Just look at the comments on Zhou Yu’s post about raising a billion for the production of “Sword Immortal IV”—the names of various stars had all been pushed to the top.

Ma Dang was stunned. Lin Shihao’s smile mystified him. How could he still be smiling after losing so many songs and all those photos?

“It’s all collected,” the deputy general said with a sigh, closing his eyes. At his signal, the prepared soldiers began scooping up handfuls of silver coins into sacks, one after another until each was full and replaced. As the money was gathered, those who had paid were let onto the dock, where they could carry off the stored grain at will.

Liu Jinlu ignored Ma Dang. Had he even paid attention during the film? He’d been either napping, fiddling with his phone, or sneaking glances at her. How could he judge the movie’s quality that way?

Shouts of terror and peals of laughter rang out across the corpse-strewn grassland—though the bodies belonged only to magical beasts. The knight order was battered but, miraculously, had suffered no casualties.

As Colin finished casting his spell, he withdrew from that special state, feeling a lingering sense of disorientation.

Her slender fingers closed lightly, and the orb disappeared into her jade palm. The classically beautiful Eastern woman then lowered her gaze toward the spot where Su Mu had just fallen, a complex expression flickering in her captivating phoenix eyes.

Just as the gods assumed the matter settled and prepared to leave, Diya suddenly spoke again.

“Haha! A man without passion wastes his youth! My second brother’s still as valiant as ever—never let the might of our Han sons be diminished!” Pan Xuezhong burst out laughing, teasing Wang Rui.

As Lin Fang entered the city center, he saw a large building ahead. Above the entrance, a sign read: “Mage Alliance Headquarters.”

It seemed Li Jing knew Wang Yi still had business with Changsun Wuji, for after bidding farewell to Wuji, he returned to his quarters first.

“There’s no need for that—no reason to make Number One wear such heavy, silver-forged armor and a greatsword,” said the man in sunglasses and military uniform, lighting a cigar as he watched the mysterious figure’s retreating back.

But even without it, thanks to Yizi’s superior soul force, martial spirit, and crescent moon talent, she still held a clear advantage.

Miura was probably just echoing what everyone else said, as if it was only natural for such words to leave his mouth.

“Hee hee~!” The ghostly girl drifted through a tank, reaping the lives of its British crew. The now-unmanned tank veered out of control, crashing through layers of shopfronts before plunging into the Thames.

Heng Yi pondered the risk of this information leaking. The only ones aware of the matter were the twelve-colored dragon clan’s god, Hongfeng, and the deputy who’d stayed behind. Other than that, only the current deputy god of the red dragons, who had traveled with Hongfeng, knew anything.

“Heh, don’t misunderstand. You can see what I’m like—always busy. Treating patients is my only hobby. If I became your personal doctor, I couldn’t take other cases freely anymore. You might not mind, but you know how people talk,” Wang Zhi said with a chuckle.

Li Jing had already told Wang Yi that the Tuyuhun campaign was nearing its end, but the aftermath was just beginning. Several forces were gathering in Fubi City, each waiting for an opportunity. Our side should give them that chance—or even create one.

Ming’s voice was laced with an intangible allure, and a faint black aura began to flicker around Yin Rupuo.

The desire for beauty is a blade above the head—perhaps he could not restrain himself and harbored thoughts of his sister-in-law.

He was already stronger than most, his strength at King’s level able to shatter rocks at will, yet Yang Qi’s single sword could match him evenly?

His brainpower had increased yet again. Of course, compared to the realms so many spoke of, he was still a long way off. He didn’t know when he would reach that height; he only knew that constant thought had ensured his survival, not so-called luck.

Zhao Yi accepted the order to take Mu Xuefu’s pulse. Within moments, time seemed to stretch, as if dawn and dusk had passed outside.