Chapter 41: Died Because of Me

The sky gradually darkened, shrouded in mist, and a torrential rain poured down. The emperor and his entourage, trapped on the mountain at the temple, had no choice but to seek refuge within its halls. The path down the mountain was muddy and treacherous. Shen Jin stood before the main hall; behind him, the abbot passed by, hesitating as if he wished to speak.

“Master Shen.”

“Master,” Shen Jin turned around. “Thank you for…”

Liu Yong had intended to return to his own quarters, but he was eager to learn about the situation of the Huang family. Just as he was considering sending someone out, his thoughts were interrupted. He looked up to see one of Cai Mao’s surrendered soldiers—the one released only yesterday.

The Tiger King was taken aback when he heard this, noticing the cold sneer on Xiao Feng’s face. In the end, he swallowed the words he had intended to say.

“Where is General Cao?” Kou Feng asked the nearby soldier. He clearly remembered Liu Yong’s warning that not a single man could be allowed to escape, or his own head would roll. He knew there had been six Cao generals—he had killed two, leaving four. He dared not be careless; if one or two slipped away, his own demise would surely follow.

The Tang Monk was only in his thirties or forties, yet the White Mouse Spirit, who had been cultivating for centuries, called him “brother.” Was there anything more absurd?

“We beg you to accept us as disciples!” they said in unison, their eyes shining with sincerity and fervor.

Upon receiving the letter, Xu Shu was stunned. When he rushed to his home not far from the city to inquire, he collapsed to the ground, overcome with grief and weeping uncontrollably.

Throughout the ordeal, Fang Yi said nothing, for Song Wuliang acted with his consent.

“Have you seen enough?” The beauty’s voice was melodious and pure, untouched by worldly cares, yet carried a trace of chill.

Originally, Jiang Yu had no intention of visiting the Great Buddha Temple. It was someone else’s domain—an unrivaled power surpassing all top factions. Who knew what losses he might suffer there? Yet now, he found himself hesitating to refuse the journey.

Nangong Qingcheng’s mind was awash with memories, as though time had rewound to a winter night more than a decade before. The temperature was barely above freezing; darkness blanketed the earth. Electric whips tore through the sky, wild winds howled, thunder roared deafeningly, and suddenly the rain fell in sheets, lightning weaving ribbons across the heavens.

After their candid conversation, the two found their troubled hearts opened, emotional barriers dissolved, and their spirits rekindled—ready once more to strive for success in their pursuits.

After a few breaths, the flying white tiger hovered in the sky, only four meters from the outer mountain gate.

This abrupt commotion instantly shattered the calm of the area, leaving many disciples bewildered.

Qin Xuan’s eyes were cold and sinister. As soon as one of the Shadowmasters severed his bonds, he sprang to his feet.

Wan Quan Manor took its name from Mount Wan Quan, upon which it was built. Thanks to the mountain’s natural springs, the manor’s lord had constructed over twenty pools for cooling off in summer. Their exorbitant cost meant only the wealthy or those of status could afford to bathe there.

Had it not been for Master Du’e’s timely reaction and the protection of the Celestial Pagoda, disaster would have struck.

Though the sobbing was faint and suppressed, Hongli, already a light sleeper, woke instantly. Peering inside, he saw Gao Xiangwan with her back turned to him.

At these words, Gu Yan’s face darkened noticeably, and he immediately regretted his rash decision to bring her back.

“A wife going to such a place—her husband has a duty to be her chivalrous protector,” Mo Sihan said with righteous conviction, striving to maintain his image as an exemplary spouse.

Half an hour later, the food was prepared afresh. Qin Xuan’s subordinates were also cured of their poisoning and once again sat down to eat.

At the most crucial and intimate moment, an ill-timed knock on the door suddenly broke the tension.

Thus, when it finally came to a game of wits, Beiming Ziye was the one who held the power to decide everything.

With every word, Zhou Jun winced in pain. When he saw Chen Meng in the lounge, his eyes lit up, and he hurriedly said something to Long Jiahao beside him. In his excitement, he pulled at his already swollen face, making the pain even worse.