Volume One, Chapter 48: The Insect Swarm Attacks

The man with disheveled hair glanced at the three figures across from him, then, growing somewhat impatient, flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it under his leather shoe. His gaze fixed firmly on the leader, the Rat King.

Yet, for certain reasons, she did not act directly. Allowing Lin Huairou to handle the matter might be slower, but in the grand scheme, it made little difference.

Among them all, Li Qingyang performed the best—calm, composed, utterly unflustered—appearing well-suited for covert operations. But Zhang Xiaoru still felt uneasy inside.

As for Xiang Feiyu, he simply endured, sitting cross-legged on the ground, eyes fixed on his nose and nose on his heart, as if transformed into a serene, ascetic Buddhist monk.

After the seven paid their respects once more to Elder Xuan and turned away, the old man’s weathered face finally showed a faint, gentle smile as he watched their retreating figures.

A tremendous explosion shattered the air. Hu Pingwei’s whole body trembled violently, a spray of blood erupting like a fountain before he was hurled backward by a tremendous force.

Lu Zijia was a renowned alchemist, her reputation already widespread. Countless people eagerly awaited her medicinal concoctions.

There was a hint of mockery in her tone. After she spoke, tears streamed endlessly from Feng Qianchen’s eyes. Though he tried hard to hide them, he could not prevent the tears from falling.

Knowing she was about to marry, Chu Rui had taken an extended leave from the hospital to return and act as her bridesmaid.

Brother Liang, though a late-stage Golden Core cultivator, was ultimately outnumbered and powerless. If they truly opposed the City Lord’s Mansion, the Zhou family would inevitably suffer losses in the end.

Xia Xi and Meng Nan ascended the steps together, facing the first three rows of black-clad bodyguards at the entrance. They swallowed nervously.

Both were somewhat embarrassed by Su Luan’s words but resolutely refused to let her descend the stairs—not wavering for a moment.

At this moment, Xia Xi and Meng Nan were utterly cowed, not daring to breathe. Meng Nan’s clear eyes were tinged with fear.

Jiu Yue remained quiet, silently accompanying Jun Qingming as they burned paper money and many golden ingots. When finished, the ritual was complete.

In a certain sense, I too am lonely, and before my eyes flashes a familiar silhouette, stirring both longing and heartbreak.

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When Gongsun Zan served as Chief Historian in the Liao Dong vassal state, every time the Wuhuan tribes attacked, he responded with fierce determination, fighting as if they were his personal foes and continuing deep into the night without rest. From then on, the Wuhuan feared his valor and dared not invade again.

Ayur looked at him helplessly, saying nothing, as if nothing could move him. He waited with absolute calmness for something.

Countless soul swords burst forth from Wutai’s hands, forming defensive barriers before himself.

With only five days left until the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, Chang Kong strained to plan everything. Five days was enough to accomplish much, but also enough to delay many things. He might not even make it through this place alive in five days. If Li Bashan were still alive, perhaps he could offer guidance, but now all was uncertain.

Upon contact, fiery sparks erupted, sending six wolves crashing to the ground in a surrounding formation. Chang Kong landed and immediately crouched, sweeping his leg to send the wolves flying.

Ling Yue trembled with fury at Ou Ruo’s ignorance. Were it not for her status, she would have slit her throat without hesitation.

However, Zhang Guodong’s words were not without effect. They caused Wen Rou to momentarily forget everything, including Wan Jun lying on the ground.

Yang Shaozong had faced countless trials and battles in his lifetime. With Tang Enguo’s level of skill, how could he hope to contend with him?

“So, after receiving the mission, how did he contact you?” Ling Yue continued her interrogation.

Li Shimin once sought eternal life from Emperor Wu of Han and Qin Shi Huang. After stabilizing his realm, he too became obsessed with immortality. Historically, Li Shimin died from supposed elixirs, passing away in his fifties.

Bai Yanxu smiled like a sly fox, his eyes glowing green as they fixed unwaveringly on Ling Shaoqing.

“Take me to where I’m staying. Don’t tell me your old man didn’t make proper arrangements!” Comrade Hu Daming’s only thought now was for a bed.

At his gestures, everyone was dumbfounded, including the stubborn bystanders listening closely. When they understood, they were utterly shocked, refusing to believe it was true.

Yin Ruo’s terrifying, cold, and pained expression was one Ye Tingmo had seen only once before—when Yin Ruo’s grandmother passed away. Then, Yin Ruo had worn that very look.

They continued walking, surveying the entire open-air area, finding only one mid-Qing Dynasty artifact—still far from their target.

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Though the atmosphere was heavy with sorrow during the arrangements for Old Liu’s passing, Liu Xiaoling and Wang Xuanlong looked forward again. Liu Xiaoling knew that only by gaining admission to a university could she honor Old Liu’s last wish, allowing him to rest in peace in the afterlife.

Within mere minutes, Song Dihui cured Duan Ruier’s illness. “Such exquisite technique!” Duan Renyi exclaimed. Duan Ruier yawned, her complexion flushing rosy as her cold and chills vanished.

“All right, all right, now everyone line up, one by one. The finance department has records of all owed wages, so no need to panic,” Meng Meng organized the employees into orderly queues. Seeing the money, they followed her lead willingly.

The generals at headquarters exchanged glances, shaking their heads in bewilderment as the endless waiting dragged on.

“I bet you won’t die this time!” Escort Brother scoffed coldly, his icy gaze fixed on the shattered glass window.

“Brother, I want to train around the South China Sea and Indian Ocean first, then escort deep-sea cargo ships for drills,” Chen Hu suggested.

The figure flickered, nearly invisible to the naked eye, impossible to detect without keen observation.

The other was a middle-aged man with black hair and yellow skin, short in stature, with striking features and piercing phoenix-shaped eyes that sent chills down the spine.

Peng Mo had framed her. She couldn’t just leave; her father must investigate thoroughly so she could clear her name.

With extreme frustration and fury, she stared intently at Nakamura Kyoka. Nakajima Yulan tried to rise, but a heavy kick landed again on her fragrant hip.

“Useless,” Ye Chen sighed lightly. Using his sword sheath, he pushed forward, passing through Tsukimi Rito’s defense so swiftly she couldn’t even dodge. The sheath struck her body unexpectedly, as if stepping casually forward, striking just where she was most vulnerable to both attack and defense.

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