Chapter 32: The Apricot Branch Has Crossed the Wall

Hua Cheng reached for the private room door, and only then did Gu Yue remember to glance over. At a single look, she was taken aback. The two doors to the private room, having just endured a sudden forceful impact, had suffered for it—one hinge had come off, leaving the door hanging crookedly from the frame, while the other door fared even worse, with a large section of its wooden frame badly scraped. She must have been so infuriated by that woman just now that she’d lost control and used such force.

Gu Yue fumed inwardly: What a worthless door, so fragile and flimsy.

The waiter and manager listened—

Yuan Qian closed her eyes, trying to recall Feng Yu’s memories, only to discover that nearly all memories from a hundred years ago had vanished... Damn, this was truly a tricky situation.

If the rankings were to be redone, Nan Qiyue would claim first place, Auriel second, and Mu Chenxi third.

“Call that straight-laced boyfriend of yours over here right now! I want to see if you can actually bring him here today!” Lu Qi glared coldly at Li Mujun, anger burning in her beautiful eyes, impossible to conceal.

Xu Ying naturally sided with Su Nianliang, and the two groups had a fierce argument, forcing Jiang Shi to make the final decision.

Qian Rao took out a bottle and placed a circle of medicine around them—this was a repellent for soul beasts, highly effective at driving them away as soon as they appeared.

Unbeknownst to Yuan Qian, overnight, she had acquired countless new labels.

The faces of the onlooking students turned deathly pale—this was their first time witnessing Quan Shaoze in action, and he was every bit as terrifying as the rumors claimed.

But once outside the academy, the bloody slaughter in the darkness would begin, and only the strong would survive to the end.

It was precisely because of Shen Anran’s supposed “pregnancy” that Old Master Ye had recently searched for news about her.

A scream rang out—a figure staggered back, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs, eyes tightly shut as a stream of tears was forced from the corners of their eyes by the pain.

But he had noticed Wuxin’s subtle movements: glancing around, then up at the sky, and only then speaking. Was he making sure of their surroundings?

Midway through, after bidding Han Ya goodbye, Tang Ye and Lin Yourong returned to the Royal Garden. No sooner had they arrived than Tang Ye received a call from Chen Shuqing, informing him that they would be leaving for Yundian the next day. Tang Ye agreed, while Lin Yourong was unhappy, reluctant to see him go.

Of course, I wasn’t foolish enough to keep pressing Yan Beixun. If he refused to answer now, he wouldn’t answer no matter how many times I asked.

Jiang Hai noticed, but paid it no mind, for the temperature here had dropped again—though not as terrifying as the white palace, it was still unbearably uncomfortable. Li Xinyu, meanwhile, was preparing her final move.

At that moment, “DeBang” entered the defensive tower, but instead of using his ultimate skill to swat down the enemy, he pressed on toward the opposing hero, hoping to get close enough to send him flying with a jab of his spear.

If Liu Xi were just a stranger or a close friend, things would be simpler. The problem was, our relationship was... ambiguous, to say the least.

With that thought, Zhao Feng had nothing left to worry about. Even if he couldn’t handle it himself, wasn’t Tong Yuan still around? What enemy could possibly be beyond Tong Yuan’s ability to defeat?

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Long Yifei replied, maneuvering the “Undead Warrior” out of the blood pool and chasing after the fleeing “Barbarian King.”

These were precisely the practices of cultivation in the past. The situation in the cultivation world of old was now gradually being restored, though in modern times, new sects had appeared—such as the Red Wall Court, which emphasized the development of technological power.

“Doggie, do you mean... we’ve really run into a ghost?” San Pang’s eyes bulged as if they might pop from their sockets. He pulled at his voice, trembling, and asked me.

Having stayed by this man’s side for years, Wei Ya had learned the art of self-preservation. At times like this, she knew better than to admit to anything.