Chapter 90: An Apology

Zhao Ling’er felt incredibly embarrassed at the sight before her. Her gaze drifted, intentionally or not, toward Zhao Yuan, then shifted to Yang Mu. In that moment, her eyes seemed to convey a different kind of emotion. Zhao Yuan, meanwhile, kept his brows tightly knitted and his eyes unconsciously fixed on Yang Mu. As for Yang Mu, seeing Zhao Ling’er in such a state, he was at a loss for words. With a helpless sigh, he spoke slowly.

“You women are strange—always making wild guesses without knowing the truth.” Yang Mu pursed his lips in resignation, then turned his gaze fully to Zhao Ling’er, as if awaiting her response. Hearing Yang Mu’s words, Zhao Ling’er felt even more ashamed, yet at the same time, something stagnant and decayed began to fester. Resources were wasted, extravagance and debauchery unfolded endlessly, and the darker side of the world revealed itself.

The choice of successor wavered between the supporters of the two candidates, and Lü Buwei had yet to make his stance known. Qin Qing understood that he was waiting for the right moment—just as he had waited before backing Ying Zichu. Now, with both heirs enjoying strong support, Lü Buwei’s endorsement would make little difference to his own influence.

Enough. Since Sister Ling refused the money, she felt it inappropriate to insist further and instead inquired about the health of the children in Ling’s family, steering the conversation back to medicine.

Having attained the rank of Divine Emperor, the three had freed themselves from the constraints of divine law. They soared higher and higher, encountering fierce energies—heavenly force, baleful aura, tempest winds, sandstorms. Such forces were fatal to ordinary Divine Kings, but for Li Huai and the other two, they were hardly worth mentioning.

This was written last New Year, with several friends as prototypes. I originally wrote seven chapters, but the quality kept declining. Cough, even rambling nonsense requires both physical and mental effort... tears. So I won’t release them all. Over the next few days, I’ll share a few chapters I’m still somewhat satisfied with.

“Scoundrel!” The old man in green robes was startled and quickly launched an attack to block. “Your opponent is me!” Lin Tian laughed heartily, and in an instant, the Starbreaker Spike sped toward the old green-robed man.

Korpia worshipped the “Infinite Light,” and strove to cultivate himself in its likeness. The so-called “Infinite Light” was the first ray of light at the birth of the universe—eternal, illuminating all things, and providing the force of life.

I sat in the carriage and realized, almost unconsciously, that my handkerchief was drenched in the sweat of my palms. In my memory, I hadn’t felt so nervous in a long time—not even when Kangxi gifted me poisoned wine. But today was different; the incident involved the Seventeenth Prince, and it was impossible not to be anxious.

Yet, once she calmed down, she realized that her earlier thoughts had been far too impulsive.

She looked in astonishment at her companion, whose aura suddenly erupted, becoming altogether extraordinary, and for a long time, she could not utter a single word.

As soon as her voice fell, the father and son seemed terrified. Father Feng’s face went pale, and the second brother Feng jumped to his feet, stammering, “No, no, nothing…” but his voice grew ever weaker.

Though the wounds had stopped bleeding, their sheer number still caused her deep distress. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she clutched a porcelain bottle, more than ten centimeters tall, in her hands.

From within the thundercloud storm came a sigh—a sound ill-suited to the atmosphere. At the same time, Amber Dust gradually caught sight of the man lurking within the raging tempest.

Fe’er opened her mouth, stammering, “I heard it, master, he really does love madam.” Her voice was tinged with happiness as she spoke.

At that moment, Yan Yingmu and the Blissful Immortal exchanged a glance, each seeing a trace of longing in the other’s eyes.

The green-robed man pointed his finger, and the branches suddenly scattered, transforming into countless threads. After a series of transformations, they became garments. Never before had the crowd witnessed such magical arts—they were spellbound.

Little did anyone know—though Xue Yi had not been cultivating long, she had survived several deadly battles. She was no longer recklessly fearless. She would fight to the death if necessary, but otherwise, she preserved her strength, waiting to deliver a fatal blow to her opponent.