Chapter Sixty-Two: Evidence

The two wandered inside for a while before Shu Yiming suddenly grabbed Ouyang Zhuo’s arm.

“It must be there—if it’s not, I really can’t think of anywhere else.” Shu Yiming pointed toward a towering pavilion, so grand it seemed to dwarf everything around it.

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Now the scope of the Journey to the West world had expanded more than tenfold, and the world that should have evolved naturally was, in this moment, frozen and pushed further into new evolution.

Yun Ying’er arranged the food box, and the others helped set out the dishes neatly before leaving.

Upon closer inspection, there were quite a few people like this here, lining both sides of the road, as if preparing for something.

After arriving in the mortal world, magic couldn’t be used freely, but it could at least help solve the air quality issues in the new home.

Zhang Shu recalled, then said that about eighty miles west of Sanjiang City, there was indeed an old burial ground.

Seeing Shi Sang’s attitude brimming with conflict, colleagues who knew her well could only agree with a few murmured responses; then, heads down, they returned to their phones or magazines, abandoning any further discussion.

Su Xun couldn’t help but burst into laughter—someone’s name had “Xiang” in it. Though it was a joke from many years ago, hearing it today felt nostalgic and irresistible.

This was Alair’s solution for his lack of control over the army at present.

Aunt Zhou’s excellent results were, of course, due to the quality of her family’s rice, which earned her the honor.

Chen Xuan took Zhang Taichu’s instructions seriously. Unable to go himself, he sent two reliable disciples, who brought a mysterious crystal ball. According to them, if you placed your hand upon it and it lit up, you could cultivate; the brightness indicated the quality of your aptitude.

Wang Yao issued orders. Since it was their first time entering the lunar space, and they hadn’t done enough reconnaissance, they wouldn’t act rashly; the priority was to set up a camp.

She never would have imagined that the one who had once treated her so well—whom she regarded as a sister—would now want her dead.

Whether they were frantically fleeing or resigned to their fate, everyone knew the powerful explosion that triggered the landslide wasn’t a natural event, but rather the work of their enemies.

Obtaining the Mirror of Destiny, breaking Sister Shi’s curse, and searching for her own origins—these were all things she had to do.

The Huashan leader was about to speak when Meng Qiushui’s gaze fell on him. His heart tightened, and his sword, rising instinctively, was unmistakably his famed “Thirteen Breeze Styles,” known throughout the martial world.

Soul Devourer glared at Qingyi in humiliation. She hadn’t expected Qingyi to be so bold; he’d never been so headstrong before.

Her knees bent, retreating to the edge of the sofa, her back pressed against the cushions. The posture was clearly one of apprehension—perhaps respect, but certainly not love.

Old Cao hadn’t driven far when a car stopped at the gate. He slowed down and pulled over. Li Peiyuan got out, opened the taxi’s trunk, and took out several bags.

But as she activated her energy, Liu Jiyan’s expression changed instantly, and Cen Chong, who had been bowing his head, slowly looked up. Instead of fear or confusion, his face bore a strange smile—cold and resentful.

“Consort Li, I know I wronged you before. The pain of losing a child can never be undone. I’ve brought you some supplements—please take care of your health,” Liu Qianqian said, standing outside the hall.