Volume 1 Chapter 92: Lu Cheng, You Bastard

Jiang Ning took her phone out of her bag. Her hands were trembling, and she had to scan her fingerprint three times before the lock screen finally unlocked.

Lin Huanying saw her and called out loudly in greeting, but Jiang Ning didn't hear a word of it.

The call went through, only to be met with a prompt that the phone was powered off.

In her mind flashed the image of a phone shattering into pieces on the ground after a violent impact.

Tian Le sensed it immediately—with the primordial energy seeping from the Joyous Path Dao Pill, every cycle Duanmu Ya's yin essence completed within his body produced six to seven times more yin energy than usual.

Otherwise, on the very day it happened, Morgan would certainly have faced retaliation from House Lannister.

"Is it here?" Xu Hengle had Ziye circle the spring's eye and then had Lan Bao confirm.

Could it be that Su Yu had already become even more terrifying than the great horror he had once paid such a heavy price to expel?

Four wolf-headed blood bats circled around Tian Le's bronze light barrier, soaring on all sides, unceasingly unleashing wind blades to wear down the barrier's power.

The moment she caught sight of Tian Le atop the white jade crane, Gong Ya, whose face had already lost every trace of blood, froze on the spot.

Just as Morgan, along with Afra, the young dragon Sigrid, and two horses, was enjoying a peaceful dinner while taking shelter from the rain at the foot of the desolate black cliff, Tariel accepted the fruit wine flask that his student Kili handed him, poured himself a full cup, and drained it in one gulp before quietly beginning to recount to Tariel beside him the thrilling and perilous scenes from the early morning before.

"This flattery is a perfect ten—it stabs at me, sings the praises of Number Two, and in a certain sense imparts a lesson to the broad audience watching on their screens," Wang Yijie said.

For three years, another person had been quietly paying attention to that name, except that there was a hint of dark malice in her eyes now.

For a full three months, He Yankai's life had been as insipid and tasteless as a basin of clear water. He did not quarrel, did not fuss over trivialities. Every day, he took his medicine on time, went for his check-ups on time, and underwent various treatments on time.

As for Cai'er, although she was not a martial artist, she possessed an innate dharma-born constitution—that is to say, she was born without meridians, with qi and blood naturally united. Though not a martial artist, she could directly produce dharma essence.

Fortunately, they had cleared the area they were hiding in beforehand, and there were no pesky creatures like snakes or insects.

I found it utterly baffling as well. For a moment, I couldn't figure out where Chen Mu's confidence came from, that he could so casually utter the words, "It's no trouble."

In that instant, I suddenly realized that the mundane world might very soon be on the verge of undergoing a great catastrophe, and if it had to be endured solely by the owner of the slot machine, or by humanity alone, it would be nearly impossible to survive.

Especially being pinned down hard on the sofa by Wen Muchen, Tang Jinglin had never suffered such treatment. The fury in his heart grew more and more uncontrollable, and he raised a foot, kicking straight at Wen Muchen in front of him.

Fortunately, I rolled down in time, and the gunshot didn't hit me. Instead, it struck the sack directly. The sack I had been clutching was instantly blasted into pieces, and the gravel inside poured out with a loud rattle.

It couldn't possibly be Qiu Yan, could it? Though Qiu Yan often wore a stern face toward me at the company and directed a whole heap of hostility my way, I'm not stupid. After a year or so of dealing with Qiu Yan, her character was plain to see.

Her stamina was far better than before now, and even carrying the not-exactly-light Mu Keyan seemed effortless for her.

Zhang Ruochen felt the injuries inside his body growing more and more severe. The blood throughout his body, already boiling fiercely under the eightfold rage, now surged into his throat in a single gush. But unlike his usual habit, Zhang Ruochen did not spit the blood from his mouth—instead, he swallowed it.

"Tomorrow I'll sound her out. I need to understand her family before I can prescribe the right remedy and get them to allow Yang Zhijing to stay in my villa," Zhang Jin mused to himself.