Volume 1, Chapter 31: What Are You Planning to Do?

"What are you trying to do?"

Unable to fathom the answer, she simply stopped thinking about it. As the father and son were occupied with absorbing power, she did not remain idle, choosing instead to delve into the final tier of mystical arts: the manipulation of fate and destiny.

Tuoba Yuanzhen glanced at the kneeling courtiers and members of the imperial clan outside, who were observing him with varied expressions. Ignoring them, he coldly flicked his robes and, without a hint of hesitation, knelt beside Tu Jiao, the only imperial princess, who was positioned behind the Crown Prince.

Unlike during the day, when his aura was somewhat obscured, Ningning could clearly feel a sudden shift in his presence now that he had the freedom to move about at night.

"How much money he makes has nothing to do with me. Regardless, the money I earn is my own, and I spend it with a clear conscience!" Chi Shuyan stated.

Chi Shuyan was truly unaware at that moment that the turmoil caused by a single bag of spirit rice had turned the steadfast brotherhood of Qi Hao and Lu Chengfu into a superficial one.

Although Chuchu was not short on silver now, she remained frugal when thinking of future expenses. She chose a decent inn and requested three rooms, a habit they had maintained throughout their journey.

The old man was extremely cautious. It was not mere suspicion; in this capital, one had to be sharp-witted. The human heart is treacherous, and one must always be on guard—this was the life experience he had gathered over his years.

Chinese elements: cheongsams, hanfu, Tang-style attire, or even Beijing opera costumes would suffice. Beyond that, Ye Lanshan truly could not think of anything else.

He Chen was initially confused, but after a moment of thought, he suddenly understood. He couldn't help but curse under his breath before breaking into a laugh.

The distinction between the men in black and the imperial secret guards was obvious. Although the guards were also dressed in black, they were not wearing masks this time, so one look at their faces confirmed they were on their own side.

Qiu Ruofeng’s understanding made Yang Xue feel somewhat ashamed. Even Chen Ya could make a promise to him to go abroad and find a beautiful country, but what about him?

Seeing him charge, Yun Muyang did not retreat. This man’s cultivation in the Dao was far superior to that of Duan Yuxuan and Yue Dongkun; he was truly a standout among those Yun had encountered, perhaps even peerless. It was strange, however, that he had never heard of this man’s reputation before.

Before the words had even faded, two flashes of sword light pierced through the window like lightning, aiming directly at Lou Yanming, who was in the middle of circulating his energy. However, they were steadily intercepted by Duan Siyue.

After finishing his lunch, Zhao Kuangyin was playing a game of Go with Empress Song when an attendant entered to report that Meng Chang, the former ruler of Later Shu, had just passed away from illness in his own residence in Kaifeng.

Anger, when pushed to its limit, turned to despair, and despair, in turn, transformed back into fury. The bestial mutant let out a roar sharp enough to pierce the eardrums, spreading its blood-colored wings like a dying moth as it lunged toward the metallic flames capable of incinerating it instantly.

The private secretary was clearly a man of the world. Seeing this scene, his pupils constricted and his expression shifted uncertainly. After hearing what Ye Chen had just said and observing the composition of the group, he realized they were the very "fat sheep" the gang had been hunting these past few days. But... how did they dare to come knocking on the door? When did they get off that boat?

The street food stalls reacted swiftly, packing up and shuttering their doors, while the customers scattered. A few bold ones found safe vantage points to watch the spectacle from a distance.

"Fellow Daoist Cen, may I ask for your guidance?" Jing Xuhui cupped his hands, his face twitching slightly as he spoke with a hollow laugh.

Bai Yan swung his sword. The blade moved like a silken thread, neutralizing the domineering saber strike, before darting forward like a viper’s tongue to pierce the arm of the cultivator holding the weapon.