How many dreams do we have in this fleeting life?

“Since that’s the case, please let Xu Qiang know that Han Guang has come to see him, and tell him to be prepared,” Han Guang said with a smile.

Without further ado, Han Guang strode in, forcefully pulled the doctor aside, and immediately lifted the white sheet covering Ye Xuan’s head.

Of course, his unfamiliar face was one reason, but the greater part of the attention was drawn by Da Le beside him—a man in sunglasses, hands in his pockets, one sleeve long, the other sleeveless, a black phoenix tattoo winding down his bare arm.

When Lin Xiao read the message, his first reaction was astonishment. He knew the history within the game: the Giants had long ago been destroyed in their struggle for the Nibelungen Ring, yet now, against all odds, they had reappeared.

Monk Yuan’s body instantly went rigid, petrified from head to toe, unable to move a muscle.

Meanwhile, Zeus’s magical chant had reached the ninth sun obsidian gem. His mind was completely engrossed in the rhythm of the incantation, oblivious to all outside voices. In his eyes, the world was awash in a pure, silvery, sacred light.

Mount Mudong’s colossal gateway stood across the pass like two mountains cleaved and set as barriers, leaving only a narrow gap wide enough for four Xiaoyun Beasts to pass abreast. The area was shrouded in a half-curved expanse of clouds, resembling a translucent dome that guarded the place flawlessly.

Jonathan couldn’t understand—if Joyce possessed such remarkable ability, why had he never shown it before? Why wait until the council of elders that day to finally reveal himself?

“Boss, there’s a car behind us. It’s been tailing us for quite a while,” the blond youth’s companion said in the Audi.

With the leader’s command, all the special forces under his charge pulled their triggers in unison. Their weapons were equipped with silencers, and in that instant, they efficiently dragged the bodies of the Sunset Blade soldiers into hidden corners nearby.

Ning Feng casually tossed Yang Chang to the ground, took a seat on a chair, and watched him in silence.

The Lord of Darkness did have the upper hand; after all, Xue Shisan’s cultivation hadn’t truly reached the Supreme level, and he lacked the speed to transcend time itself.

Yi Ziyan seethed with anger, ready to retort, but when he heard Su Qin’s words, he instantly fell silent.

By now, the sharp-eyed reporters had already focused on the vehicle. While others might not recognize Ning Feng’s car, the reporters certainly did.

Near the hilt of the blade was an engraving resembling the sun, with rays radiating outward along the blade’s length, like sunlight streaming toward the tip.

Brother Li lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes already vacant, muttering the same three words over and over.

When his voice of surrender was heard, even though everyone had anticipated it, they couldn’t help but sigh.

This skill’s panel was orange! Bai Xia, through his understanding of the Sword King’s Heaven-Defying Art, had elevated this high-tier divine skill to legendary rank! Though it may have only required a final push, not just anyone could have broken through.

Chewing bubble gum, he headed toward the classroom. By the time he arrived, the smell of smoke in his mouth had nearly faded. He spat the gum onto a piece of paper, tossed it in the trash, and just then, the teacher entered with a stack of exams. The first subject was mathematics.

A tear fell on the screen. Mo Zhifan wiped it away decisively—how absurd, since when had he grown sentimental?

These days, Qin Shi’s cultivation in the valley had progressed rapidly. As his power increased, the thin spiritual energy during the day was no longer sufficient, and only during the peak of yin-yang transition could he make further gains.

Wang Xi and Wang Nan were utterly at their wits’ end. Now, the only reliable person present was Xu Fan.

Ye Hao had considered making an excuse not to go, but then thought he might stumble upon something interesting, so he made no objection and continued eating.

He kept his complaints to himself, daring not to show displeasure outwardly, only managing a forced, awkward smile.

“Can you remember what that place is called?” With a thread of hope, Ye Hao looked at Su Ying, anticipation in his eyes.

But Zhao Lan’er was different—not because the other was a celebrity, but because of her singing prowess.

Yun Fan fell silent for a moment, then gazed at Elder Wang, his eyes gradually filling with determination, as if swearing that since he had unleashed this disaster, he would also be the one to stop it.

Upon inquiry, he learned that Blood Fiend only wanted Luo Yang to break up with the beauties for fear he would lose too much vital energy with them.

The Sect Leader of the Ghostshade Sect stared in disbelief as the iron corpses he had painstakingly forged were picked off, one by one, their heads shattered by sword energy, turning to dust.

From that incident on, Tang Qie’s status in the Tang Clan rose dramatically. The disciples learned that though Tang Qie was proud, he was worthy of such pride.

Draped in a black gauze dress, her exquisite form moved gracefully. Through the delicate weave, the faintest hint of snowy white could be seen beneath.

Ling Feng was nearly hysterical; he had been certain he could finish off Lu Fei, but now he had lost his final advantage.

Those with deep feelings are often ruled by them, and when in pain, they sometimes do things to hurt themselves, simply because they have lost all hope in certain people.

“This is the antidote for your poison. Do you want to take a look?” I said coldly, and the two good-for-nothings immediately shrank back several steps.

No one knew what that remark—what a pity—really meant. The rosy glow lingered for a while before slowly fading, but three feet above the brocade kasaya, the treasure light still shimmered.

And so, Zhang Yun and Fang Junyao found themselves lost in discussion the entire afternoon, diving ever deeper into their exchange, until Zhang Yun glanced down and suddenly realized something was amiss.

The situation was much the same as last time, except that when Ruomeng woke the next morning, she had not left without a word. Just then, Wang Jingyi called, saying she had made porridge and invited Yang Mu over. Watching Ruomeng tidying herself up, Yang Mu sounded somewhat awkward.

Conflicts between Awakened were common—not only between different types, but even among those of the same kind, fighting over food and mates was hardly unusual.

“Master, are you ready? Our host has called us for breakfast.” Sha Yafei’s gentle voice sounded, still politely referring to the Centipede Spirit as “our host,” and in front of others, calling Xie Yunfei “Master,” giving him full respect and making him feel honored.