Chapter 163 Writing a Written Apology

After that, without saying anything else, she glared at Su Qingli and walked away.

Su Qingli chuckled inwardly, unbothered.

If she was going to be made to write a self-criticism, then everyone might as well do it together.

Su Qingli took out her phone and called Shen Ci. Surprisingly, the call was answered almost immediately.

"Madam, what's wrong?"

"I was late today..."

"Peng Wanli, halt." Suddenly, a Venerable stepped out from the void, looking at the charging Peng Wanli and shouting.

Earlier, Shen Wuxue had made him look foolish, so seeing Shen Wuxue humiliated this time made his current mood exceptionally joyful, one could easily imagine.

Rhode smiled, speaking slowly, though his gaze began to grow distant and ethereal.

In a small city, inside a gloomy, dilapidated, and abandoned house, two dying old men sat with turbid, unfocused eyes.

Linglong walked right up to Wang Huai and tossed Li Dongsheng's severed head straight into his arms.

The upper half of Lin Ke's face was concealed by a mask, leaving only his nose and chin visible, which was why Chishu Sakura had never seen his true appearance.

Lin Ke dusted off his clothes and looked at his many members, who were all covered in soot and frantically drinking health-recovery potions. A look of awkwardness washed over his face.

"You and I will divide the four quarters, splitting the Rainbow Snake's territory into four parts. How about that?" Jian Mo asked with a cold, sinister tone.

At any rate, Saeko Busujima felt that if she were still back at the academy, practicing swordsmanship for over a decade might not necessarily make her a match for the powerhouses of this world—though as things stood now, Saeko saw far more possibilities, yet she would never deliberately belittle the enemies of this world!

"Master's words carry the force of law; you are truly a divine being, and this disciple is filled with admiration." Han Li made no pretense, his eyes revealing a yearning expression.

Barely had these words been spoken when a clear, gentle voice tinged with confusion drifted over, "What is this matter you won't let me know about?" It was Wang Hong, dressed in white, treading on the evening breeze and accompanied by maids and servants.

Yan Yi did not dodge the shockwave unleashed by Jun Hui. The wind ruffled her clothes slightly, and she maintained her smile throughout.

On Jiang Chengce's resolute cheeks, a rare look of approval and appreciative light blossomed.

Nan Gongran trusted him so much as to reveal his identity as an orphan of the Violets, so Feng Luoyu had to live up to that trust no matter what—this was his personal code of conduct.

Never had I imagined that at the very final checkpoint before entering the Hall of Miraculous Mist, the one who helped me pass smoothly would actually be Chang'e.

What on earth is it?! Even at the cost of a god whose cultivation had reached the mid-stage of the Divine Realm and whose soul realm had attained the Sixth Revolution of Samsara detonating their own soul, could it only manage to hold it back for a mere fraction of a moment?

On the side of Zongheng, with the frequency of a salvo every half-minute, their formidable firepower practically shaved several meters off the hilltop of the fourth defensive line set up at a higher elevation. The violent artillery fire ceaselessly blanketed land that had already been reduced to scorched earth during the very first volley.

Furthermore, his mother belonged to a lowly caste, words that brought shame upon the Eighth Beile. While the Eighth Beile could not harbor resentment toward Consort Liang, the Eighth Princess Consort was unwilling to swallow such an insult lying dormant. Whenever she entered the palace to pay her respects to Noble Consort Hui, she would invariably visit Consort Liang along the way, naturally using sharp and unaccommodating words.

The Ninth Prince squinted at Blind Zhang. This man was not particularly good-looking—he had shifty, rat-like eyes, a hairy mole at the corner of his mouth, and was as thin as a hemp stalk. Had the Ninth Prince not been drunk, he would have felt the man was an eyesore, let alone had the mood to chat with him.

He Qingfan ruthlessly exposed the truth, worrying that they harbored lingering delusions and would still desperate push their way onto the fighting ring at all costs, which would only lead to a dismal outcome.

Hearing this, Han Gu did not find it appropriate to wake Ling Wu up further. Seeing the handwriting on Ling Wu's face, Han Gu hurriedly took out a handkerchief to wipe it off.

"You said last time that whenever you get close to the Black Cube, you sense something is wrong, right?" Sweet asked.