Volume 1, Chapter 48: What Do You Have to Beg Me?

Lin Qingwan was startled by Lian Xi's words and immediately retorted.
"Impossible. He would never do such a thing."
Just as Su Mei'er was eating with great zest, a voice suddenly drifted over from not far away.
Seeing that Lin Lei still hadn't returned, Yun Zhi pouted and asked again, her eyes clouding over with a layer of mist, looking very much like she would burst into tears if he didn't agree.
Naturally, Lin Lei had no reason to refuse after that. Since all his demands had been met, he hung up the phone with a sense of satisfaction, waiting for President Wan to pay a visit while enjoying a couple of days of leisure.
This Ancient Martial Arts Hall was presumably the place where such items were auctioned off. Before returning from their trials, cultivators could bring the treasures they had acquired here to auction for other resources; even exchanging them for money was far better than handing them over empty-handed upon return. To be continued.
A cough sounded from ahead, and the Ghost Doctor's figure slowly emerged. He looked extremely disheveled, his aura chaotic. Fortunately, although injured, he had not sustained any fundamental damage.
"Or I could just knock you out," Asakura Yoh continued, looking at the robber unconscious on the ground.
Lin Lei didn't look at Lin Yin's expression at that moment, but he knew without guessing that her eyes must be brimming with mist.
In the past, for Penglai Fairy Island to have even a single disciple break through to the Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal realm would have been nothing short of a miracle.
"My Lady, please do not speak or intercede. Right now, the Great King is in the heat of his anger, and nothing anyone says will be of any use. Perhaps in a few days, after the Great King's anger subsides and he remembers the merits of these people, he might just release them," Pang Xun comforted.
Helpless with her stubby stature, she could only twist and sway her body in mid-air, yet she was utterly incapable of inflicting any harm.
"Wei Maolin, you needn't overthink it. Since Zhao Yi says you won, then you have won. Go back and prepare!" Dao Fengzhi said to the deeply puzzled Wei Maolin.
Ye Su halted her attack, looked over the ugly and massive bullfrog, and asked in surprise, "You toad, how do you know my name?"
Yang Ming lay flat on the ground, with Qin lying prone on his back, her head drooping over Yang Ming's head. The two of them locked eyes as they watched the princess speak. Qin grew restless and rolled around on Yang Ming's back.
"Heh!" Pang Xun smiled. "This is precisely what your servant was about to address next. As a monarch, aside from concealing one's joy and anger, one must also understand the art of subjugation, the art of balance, and the art of tension and release."
After Zhao Yi shared his plan with the three of them, their auras instantly became chaotic and they were filled with indignation.
Especially since today was also the day to welcome Wei Qi, the meritorious envoy returning from his diplomatic mission to the Jin state, the arrogant and sinister expressions of the two Jurchen men softened slightly upon hearing Ye Qing's final words.
As for the Yellow Emperor's Classic of Thick Earth, it was the core cultivation method of the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan, expounding upon the profound mysteries of the Earth element within the Five Phases, or rather, using the Dao of Earth to embody the insights of all Daos in heaven and earth.
Startled birds fluttered their wings deep within the Peony Garden, and Yang绪冉, who was locked in a tense standoff with the Prince of Chu's secret guards, stiffened all over, violently turning his head to look in the direction of the pavilion.
There had long been rumors in the inner palace that the Empress Dowager and the Empress maintained a facade of harmony while harboring different views, rarely seeing each other without a reason. Empress Dowager Yue seemed quite surprised by the sudden visit, but fortunately, after a few polite remarks, Empress Xie stated the purpose of her coming.
The bone-chillingly cold tea trickled down Pei Qing's cheek, and blood slowly seeped through his dense, dark hair. The young man stared unblinkingly at the celadon teacup shattered into fragments at his feet, only slowly raising his hand to wipe the side of his face after a long while.