Chapter 65: Good Girl, Don’t Let Her Slip Away

Qian Lai’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of red. Hua Cheng understood her parents’ intentions; she wanted to know the answer, but felt a little embarrassed. Seeing her hesitate, unsure how to respond, he quickly tried to smooth things over. “Mom, Dad, this is her first time visiting our home. How can you ask such personal questions so directly?”

“Oh, we… we just really like Xiaoran. We already think of her as our own child, so we just asked without thinking. Xiaoran, I hope you don’t mind.”

Having lived abroad for a long time—

Qiu Li, ignoring the maid’s attempts to stop her outside, entered Qiu Zhuoxi and Li Mingxia’s room, sword in hand. She drew the blade and pressed it lightly against Li Mingxia’s neck.

Facing the onslaught of two demon kings, Chu Feng dared not gamble—he could not afford to. Each demon king was at the quasi-saint level, and the stability of his inner world was not yet enough to withstand the attack of two such powerful beings. To prevent his inner world from shattering, he had no choice but to reveal his trump card, departing the Journey to the West plane at the last critical instant.

What’s more, his ten guardian golden dragons were indestructible—so long as he lived, they would not perish.

“You don’t like it? Fine, then. From now on, you use the Flowing Light Sword, and I’ll stick with this great scythe,” said Ye Liangchen.

An icy seal exploded, transforming into a chilling prison mark more than ten feet across, enveloping the figure that approached.

And so, Luo Luo acquired one more student, who, like the others, listened intently to her lessons, not daring to violate the strict discipline of her classroom.

Catching his gaze, her smile grew a touch wider, and she lifted her hand in a slight wave of greeting.

With eyes closed, he quietly savored the power surging through his body, a mysterious curve gracing his lips.

Looking at those present, aside from the Divine Healer and Lian Chengjue, it seemed no one realized the effect of the companion spirit. The information had been given to Lian Chengjue, but with him and his group absent from the building, who, then, had undergone the fusion?

Confronted by Chu Feng, the Lord of Chaos felt a tremor in his heart. Even though Chu Feng had suppressed all traces of his aura, it was as if a housecat or a dog had encountered a lion; there was an innate sense of oppression that could not be overcome.

He was deeply curious about Song Zhi’s past; even the tiniest fragment of knowledge about her would help him to understand her better.

In other words, Qin Ming was now just a hair's breadth away from becoming a great saint.

Though the Xiao clan members did not understand exactly what had transpired, they dared not disobey the Third Elder’s command.

After hearing Xiao Ran’s words, Yao Chen nodded slightly, then vanished into the ring.

Compared to the unsettled Ning Nanxu, Shen Feng remained composed. He ate little, not caring much for the spicy and sour flavors of Yunnan and Guizhou.

“We’ll get going now, no need to see us out,” Wang Xuefeng said, taking Xiao He’s hand as she approached, as if they had agreed on this beforehand. He waved to the two of them in farewell.

Meanwhile, Nick Fury had hurried back to the Triskelion headquarters, only to learn that Agent Hill had already been recalled and was now in the conference room atop the building, being questioned by the World Security Council.

“My relationship with Qin Heng is purely personal. General Qin Heng has, in fact, never met anyone from the Xunyang Palace.”

Qingyue ran her hand lightly over her robe, and the golden phoenixes and peonies embroidered on it instantly fell away, leaving a tangled mess of silk threads on the floor. Qingyue immediately panicked.

All the while, Xie Lingjiang, who had been watching her senior brother closely, followed right behind him, sharp-eyed enough to notice that the back of Ouyang Rong’s shirt was clinging to his neck, evidently soaked with cold sweat.

The city of Tianmu had only a few hundred million inhabitants. Here, people relied on the nearby mountains to seek fortune, and there were few true powerhouses among them. At most, two or three saints maintained the city’s delicate balance.

“No. From what I know of the killer, he’s an arrogant, self-important man. He won’t give up so easily,” I said seriously to Watermelon, though my eyes were scanning the surroundings.