Chapter 53: Thunderstruck

The emperor looked at Murong Yan with satisfaction in his eyes. “You’ve certainly grown up quite a bit, now even thinking about such matters.”

“I’m only worried that the young lady might not fancy me,” Murong Yan sighed deeply, unwilling to tell his elder brother that his true purpose was to get closer to Lu Qingqing.

“My brother—who would dare refuse…”

“The Golden Crow clan remains as arrogant as ever,” atop the mountain, a handsome man with two golden stripes on his brow whispered as he looked up. He wore a golden robe, his black hair bound with a jade crown, bearing an air of nobility beyond the ordinary.

Yet not long after, the two children ran outside again, and this time they had something in their hands.

The four middle-aged cultivators now wore mocking, disdainful expressions, gone was their earlier nervousness and unease.

“I’ll consider it. If possible, I can invest,” Ye Yu nodded.

Before lunch the next day, to avoid a repeat of the previous day’s incident, Lady Chen left her house a quarter-hour early.

All this talk of auspicious times is nonsense. Everyone has arrived; it’s time to lure the assassin out.

Su Yang rose, drawing a sharp breath, then searched for her clothes and put them on.

Perhaps the original owner had offended many, yet no one dared to truly threaten the heir of the House of Sinan.

With Lu Chen’s permission, the armored Dao soldiers in the celestial coffin were overjoyed, immediately sitting atop the last five armored demon oxen.

“Gold and jade inlaid so superbly—are you truly a descendant of the Yao family?” Huang Xinyuan was astounded.

The man’s expression remained cold and impassive, as if he hadn’t heard her. Zhao Qingran’s anger flared; she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

At night, the Cold Palace seemed even more desolate. The tangled trees were like eerie specters clawing at the darkness, making the place especially sinister.

In the hospital ward, five out of eight beds were occupied, all by elderly people suffering from aching limbs, their sleep punctuated by labored, stuffy breaths.

Upon hearing Ruhua’s words, Leng Feng suddenly looked up, his eyes twitching, but unable to retort. He bowed to Ruhua and left to report to the prince.

Upon seeing Li Tietou lying on the ground, fate uncertain, their faces changed drastically. Each screamed and rushed forward, determined to avenge their leader.

“Our country lost the tradition, but it still exists in China—though there are few inheritors. Xiao Tao is one of them,” Quan Youngjae, knowledgeable about qi acupuncture, explained that China still had practitioners of the art.

“Su Jun is right. I don’t think Xiao Tao can work miracles anymore,” Diao Kui chimed in.

A huge wolfdog charged straight toward her, barking fiercely. Her face paled; she hurriedly picked up her feet and ran ahead.

When she lifted her trembling gaze to his lips, she saw the color in Feng Chengjin’s deep eyes. Though the chill lingered around him, his gaze held a distant warmth, prompting her to let go.

As for why Wu Le wasn’t revived by Fang Xiaowu, Fang Xiaowu never explained; since he didn’t, no one else dared to ask.

Guo Li remembered he hadn’t met up with those classmates in a long time, and so decided to join the gathering.

In fact, before the college entrance exam, Wu Ruojuan had mentioned to Chu Tian that he should bring Mu Wanqing over to visit.

By rights, such a person shouldn’t be involved in the cultivation world, and should have long left the Yuanwu continent. Why, then, did he appear at the Demon Sect’s main headquarters?

Ma Xiaoyao wasted no words, ordering the armed police to arrest Liu Chenguang and his disciples, tying them up securely. Even if Liu Chenguang and his disciple possessed extraordinary powers, they would not escape.