Chapter 152: Seeking Death

Lin Guanghui initially thought Hu Dingyuan was joking, until the guards of Jiangnan Prefecture rushed to his side, ready to take action. Only then did he realize that something was wrong.

"Hu Dingyuan! Who gave you the nerve to touch me?" Lin Guanghui remained composed. However, the members of the Lin family had palms slick with sweat; no one had expected that a situation they thought was a guaranteed victory for Lin Guanghui would turn into this.

...

"Haha, congratulations. Brother Lin is truly an extraordinary man!" Xia Ye suddenly acted out of character, a broad smile plastered on his face.

As for Gu Chen, he obediently stayed behind to recuperate. It was not until his body functions were confirmed to have fully recovered to their original vigor—strong enough to kill a tiger—that he was finally allowed to return to A City by someone who had just reunited with his younger sister and, having become a doting brother, refused to let them leave at any cost.

An Xiaoxiao shrank her neck, wanting to cry but having no tears; could she already foresee her own fate?

Appearance: His peach-blossom eyes squinted with a frivolous, sidelong glance, and his brow was etched with an indescribable, wicked charm. His golden hair set off a complexion so pale it lacked color, making him truly pitiable. Yet, the ferocity in the depths of his eyes made one dare not offend him. A smile from him was like a poppy from the netherworld; an outburst of his rage was like a Shura reborn.

In less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, the power of the Star Vortex dissipated, having swallowed only about twenty golden-armored puppets. Seeing the vortex vanish, the other puppets immediately seized the moment of their depleted energy to slaughter their way out. How could Qi Xuanyi let these golden-armored puppets have their way?

"My surname is Qiao; you can just call me Doctor Qiao!" Dong Ling replied casually, then carefully checked the pulse again.

"It’s nothing, nothing at all; we just grazed another carriage! Don’t you worry!" The driver hurriedly reassured Dong Ling before urging the carriage to continue on its way.

Similarly, Feng Guang was well aware of this. She took the initiative to wrap her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest. Closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh and whispered a single word: "Okay."

The power of the Twelve Yuanchen Formation was immense, but it was merely a containment array. Working in unison, the five of them managed to tear an opening, instantly passing through the formation to arrive at the Pill Hall.

The problem was that she was only an inner-sect disciple, and Long Qingchen was far too young; if she were to take him around to visit, it would be all too easy for trouble to arise.

Ling'er laughed and said, "Qianlan, aren't you going to cultivate?" Huoyan replied, "Us? We cultivate every single day, haha. Let's go cook for them." Having said this, Huoyan looked up at the sky, where a few clouds were drifting and the sun was about to set.

Sensing that things were worlds apart from her initial expectations, An Youran rolled her eyes. She took a vanity case from the cabinet, pulled out the finest rouge and powder, and before the boy could resist, she began smearing it all over his face in a wild, haphazard fashion.

At this moment, in the imperial tent encampment of King Wei, there was no sense of the tension usually found in the smoke of war. Everyone understood that this was an indisputably certain victory. The fortunes of Great Qi were exhausted, and King Wei’s presence here meant he was destined to fulfill the destiny of this nation's collapse. They would not lose, nor could they possibly lose.

Ming Shiyun knew her words had been excessive, but she could not suppress her displaced anger. The feeling that everything was outside of her control was truly unbearable. She felt as though all the plans she had prepared had lost their utility in an instant, and what made her feel even worse was that she had tacitly allowed the start of it all.

Why on earth did he play the villain, and why was he willing to turn against an old friend? With intentions clearly well-meaning, why had he ended up like the mythical Zhu Bajie looking in a mirror—finding himself at fault from both the inside and the out?

Perhaps he had grown too accustomed to being unbridled in front of him; once he encountered this aloof, unapproachable attitude, a certain part of him felt vaguely uncomfortable. Yet, as Zhou Xuan knew, there was really no reason for it.

"Master..." Before An Youran could call out to him to figure out what was going on, Luo Ling and Liu Wanxuan, who had appeared at the courtyard gate at just the right moment, had already provided the answer.