Chapter Forty-Three: Saving Lives

"Ouyang, hold on tight!" Shu Yiming’s eyes were fixed intently ahead as the car began to accelerate. He was determined to arrive before anything happened.

Ouyang Zhuo hadn’t expected Shu Yiming to suddenly speed up. Eyes wide, he gripped the handle tightly.

It was only a matter of minutes before Shu Yiming slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt at the edge of a cliff.

Ouyang Zhuo stepped out of the car...

A cold smile curved the corners of Ye Cuo’s lips. He understood all too well that, in this world, strength was the only currency. If he hadn’t just demonstrated power far beyond the ordinary, the man before him might have sliced him to pieces without a second thought.

"Wushuang, give us a quick summary," Wen Jing said at last, waiting until Ji Wushuang had drained a large cup of water.

As she spoke, the group flew into the spiritual mountain realm, landing atop a peak known as the Illusory Summit, governed by Meng Wuhen.

“Tibbers, over there—see that scrawny fellow? He’s awfully ugly. Go bite him!” Annie sat on Tibbers’ shoulder, clutching her staff in one hand and gripping the bear’s thick fur with the other.

If the location of the Linglong Valley were revealed, it wouldn’t be long before the powerful figures of the Demonic Heaven Sect descended, slaughtered everyone, and claimed the valley for themselves.

Soon enough, the lottery was over. Only now did the outer sect disciples get a clear look at the numbers written on their bamboo sticks—an extra precaution against cheating.

Cheng Feng cursed inwardly, and while Sivana’s attention was elsewhere, he snatched the life potion away.

Faced with the approaching avatar of the Asura Celestial Lord’s will, Chu Mu remained calm. Above his head, the resplendent and mysterious starry sky appeared once more. At its center, a figure sat cross-legged, chanting the celestial incantations of the Great Dao.

The old man rolled his eyes. Only now did he understand Mo Fei’s intentions, but he clearly didn’t approve.

Jing Ziqing’s heart leapt with joy. The Night King despised Jing Xiyao and always drove her away. It was now clear to Jing Xuerou—of course the Night King would like her instead.

For the sake of these keys, nearly half a year had passed and she still hadn’t gathered them all. Her feelings were a tangled mess.

"It’s just... I noticed you were upset, my lord! So I thought up a way to cheer you up! As long as you’re happy, can you please spare me from punishment?" Feng Ying pleaded.

Entering the space, Jing Xiyao sent Guo’er off to prepare food, woke the baby, fed him some spiritual fruit, and let him fall back asleep.

But before I could think further, the ground began to tremble more violently. Several fissures split open, and searing heat surged up to meet me.

"Dr. Tang, you’re really gentle—you’ll make a wonderful mother someday," a nurse nearby remarked with a smile. Tang Luoran didn’t respond, only asking her to fetch a towel.

Chairman Liu remained unruffled, leisurely surveying our location before shooting us a disdainful look.

Fu Zichen watched her with deep, unwavering eyes, unwilling to look away. Suddenly, his phone began to ring, shattering the moment.

Together, the two combined their strength, their power soaring. Wuji was forced back again and again, unable to withstand their onslaught.

“Zhang the Tall is a stable hand—he tends the horses—and he gets paid on a different day than I do!” Ah Quan replied impatiently, flopping back onto the bed and pulling the blanket over his head.

Fang Chen was oblivious to all this. Once the steam had condensed and returned to the teapot, Fang Chen poured two cups, handing one to the impatient Hu Yixian.

Damn it, look at the state you’re all in—do you really think you’re qualified to form a mutually beneficial alliance with the Ling family? Clearly, you’re just hoping to use our resources to make a comeback.