Chapter 84

He strode forward, seized Rong Xi’s wrist, and pulled her into his arms. His broad hand gripped her waist tightly, forcing her close. He cupped her chin, gazing deep into those stubborn eyes, and in that moment, a surge of impulse welled in his heart.

“Haha! That Silver Spirit still dared to wager with me, but wasn’t he forced to flee in defeat again?” With a rough laugh, Kuafu appeared before us, his face brimming with pride.

At midnight, a slender crescent moon hung in the sky. The oleanders beneath the pavilion bloomed in brilliant hues. I sat by the riverside window, brewing a pot of melon-seed tea with care. By the time the fragrance filled the air, Dai Qin was already standing at the doorway.

This was, in fact, the first breakfast I’d shared with Pei Tingqing and the others since my marriage to Pei Yanqiao. As expected, Pei Shuyi immediately asked, her tone meaningful, whether I’d slept well last night, if I was finding it hard to adjust. I thought to myself, with Pei Yanqiao holding me as I slept, I felt more at peace than ever before—what reason would there be to feel uncomfortable?

Yin Xiang, though he knew full well that this was just Niansheng’s teasing, nevertheless couldn’t help but flush red, his expression shifting awkwardly.

The Daoist Sect was a reclusive order from over ten thousand years ago, incomparably powerful, but reluctant to intervene in the affairs of the continent, so they concealed themselves within Green Peak Mountain.

In the next instant, Duan Xuchu lowered his head and sealed Wei Wei’s lips with a searing kiss. As he kissed her fiercely, one hand caressed between her legs, sliding off her stockings and underwear, while the other enveloped her breast, kneading with strength and skill.

Because of this, the nameless sword scabbard could not be stowed in the storage ring, so it was better to simply use the spirit sword directly.

Suddenly, I heard a low chuckle. A hand gently stroked my cheek—a touch so familiar, a little rough, yet always clean, warm, gentle, and attentive.

Seeing Junling like this, Dong’e Miaoyi guessed she must have something to say, so she asked, “Junling, what’s wrong? Did someone bully you while I was away?” This was always Dong’e Miaoyi’s greatest fear.

On the second night after Fu Jingxing’s disappearance, a violent storm swept through Hong Kong. The sea roared, the winds howled.

Of over a hundred cultivators sent by more than twenty sects and families, only this handful remained after just half a month. Though they had found some cultivation materials and techniques within the Nether Gorge, death stalked them daily, keeping their nerves strained to the limit.

Luo Tianqing, no longer caring about the other two, hurried toward the main hall relying on her memory.

This was also a good opportunity to test the power of the Phoenix God’s Roar, to see how her years of cultivation had paid off.

Just then, footsteps sounded behind her. She turned to see Zheng Ruilan and Xia Mengran approaching.

Flipping through her phone, Ye Ke’s text had arrived in the middle of the night, when she was still asleep. Now Ye Ke was already on a plane, hurrying back to attend the banquet.

But he knew that if he didn’t get a satisfactory answer today, he would not leave this place alive.

The fight between the old Daoist and the Yu sisters grew fiercer. Yu Luo was wounded and could no longer form the sword formation with Yu Heng, greatly weakening their attacks.

Cui Ling was overjoyed. That Cui Chengkai had survived was enough—she never expected him to recover all at once. She knew that was impossible.

Luo Tianqing nodded. Since the parchment depicted a map of the Abyss, undoubtedly the other two items belonged to it as well.

“Yiyi, so here you are! You’re really hard to find!” Mo Lei walked toward me, a note of complaint in his voice.

Seeing the table laden with dishes, a smile bloomed on her lips. It was her first time tasting her mother’s cooking. Though she hadn’t touched her chopsticks yet, happiness already flooded her heart.

A vague unease stirred within me. I couldn’t tell if it was because this was my first time traveling so far, or just fear of the journey’s dangers. From the moment I left home, my heart thudded anxiously, as if there was something important I’d forgotten.

The cannon fodder man gradually collapsed to the ground. He Chang pulled him by the collar, dragging him into the darkest corner.

“You?” Sanpao had already lost all authority before Black Tiger, and now with this new accusation laid at his feet, he could no longer defend himself. The entire affair was, after all, set in motion by him—had he not gone to Ningbo to collect debts, nothing that followed would have happened.

All three were stunned, and nodded one after another. They realized Chu Haoran was right, which explained why the Japanese were cautious outside but so confident once inside.

Moments later, he set down his peachwood sword and signaled to Mo Lei, who immediately produced a bagua mirror and held it reverently before him.

“Uh, all right.” Rake, too, sensed the gravity of the situation. Though he could barely stand it, survival had to come first.

After I listened, my gaze swept toward the barrier. To my surprise, as I spoke with Yin Su, Dongfang Ding was already locked in furious combat with the three ghosts.

Mo Yi, with no other choice, decided to check the information on this item first instead of cultivating. Though he could afford the expenditure in points, to spend ninety percent of them at once still seemed a reckless risk.

As he sliced the tiger meat, the boy could not help recalling Changgui Tongzi’s words, and was filled with emotion.

In the eyes of the world, the icy emperor Mo Junting, a man of unrivaled power, was a flower perched on an unreachable peak—handsome, wealthy, indifferent to desire.

To stand forth and shield others was already the mark of a rare hero. To use life-won bounties to aid strangers—once or twice, perhaps, but too often and people would only suspect ulterior motives.