Chapter 111: Ambush on the Way Home

The old ghost let out a strange laugh, showing no intention of wasting words.

With a dry right hand, he casually pressed forward, and a massive palm print several yards wide—composed entirely of viscous, corrupted blood and twisted vengeful souls—materialized out of thin air!

This bloodstained handprint was exquisitely condensed; the moment it appeared, it emitted a nauseating stench of blood along with a chilling, bone-deep oppressive aura of terror.

The air surrounding the palm print twisted under the unbearable pressure, and the rolling sea of clouds below was stained with a foreboding hue.

For someone so disrespectful of others’ privacy, Qiongqi showed no mercy, preparing to dispel the intruder with a blast of demonic energy.

Sure enough, before long, Wang Buwei hastily arrived. Upon seeing all the friends who had come to play here bound by Jiang Xie, his expression darkened noticeably.

Unless a sudden, epoch-defining event appeared that could change people’s lives, there was simply no possibility of such in the Earth’s environment at that time.

So, he nodded slightly, signaling that you could try to guess. Of course, Huang Yue’er didn’t believe that an infant corpse could figure it out, because everything he did was so concealed that even a powerful Nascent Soul cultivator might not discern what he had done.

The two of them didn’t even glance back, as if others were unworthy of their attention, striding proudly into the Shushan Sect.

Sitting separately were an immortal maiden, an elderly monk, and a young man dressed in Southern border attire serving as attendant.

As soon as the news broke, Taburo City erupted in uproar; the entire Falling Moon Kingdom was shaken, and the whole Western Wasteland was alarmed.

Shuomao and Qinze led Mufeng to a hillside behind the main city. The dense woods there were nearly deserted at night.

As his thoughts stirred, Chen Xiao’s sensing ability intensified once more, penetrating deeper into that chaotic energy core. Naturally, as he probed, Chen Xiao’s spiritual consciousness began to convey a message.

In his next life, he was a fatherless and motherless orphan, wandering the alleys and street corners of the city. To survive, he resorted to every trick and crime imaginable—transforming from a hooligan to a bandit, then a mountain robber, eventually becoming a mountain lord. He seized a wife as beautiful as a blooming flower. The imperial court, valuing talent, sent troops to recruit him, and he rose to become a general, only to fall on the battlefield.

I don’t know why he reacted this way, nor do I care to ponder it.

If a grandmaster-level martial artist were here, they’d likely have fled in terror by now, yet Xu Chen remained utterly still.

Back in Cuiping Mountain, the eagle dealt with the fat man just like this—I still feel uneasy recalling it.

Li Ruochu focused solely on circulating his cultivation method, leaving the rest to Wang Dao. Wang Dao’s hands glowed with true energy, pouring it into Li Ruochu’s body. At present,I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.