Chapter 134: The Great Demon King 13

Indeed, Yang Qi meant so much to the Yang family; what kind of punishment could he possibly receive?

Jiang Chen said, "Grandfather, rest assured, I distinguish clearly between public and private matters. If Jiang Xing obediently hands over the person, I will naturally let him off. If he plays dumb and pretends to know nothing, then don't blame me for being discourteous." With that, Jiang Chen stood up and left. The old man did not try to stop him; he merely let out a helpless sigh and watched Jiang Chen depart.

"What an overbearing man. Right, so next comes the bridal chamber, doesn't it?" Li Xiaoxiao blinked suggestively at Chen Youyou.

Perhaps after a few more times, I really will be able to endure this physical pain. Tearing off the bandage on my wrist, the coarse hair was still there, showing no signs of receding whatsoever. I sighed; this was probably just the beginning. To transform ancient beastly strength into ancient divine power, the journey ahead was still very long.

"Oh? Ge He?" Qiu Cheng was slightly startled, for he was well aware of Ge He's cultivation level. Throughout the entire sect, no disciple had a higher cultivation level than Ge He. Because of this, Min Zhenmu frequently showed off in front of him.

After bustling about to no avail and boasting so much, it all ended up coming to nothing, leaving Zhang Yuan with a profound sense of psychological imbalance. He felt that his wishes hadn't been fulfilled precisely because of that previous accident, which had ruined his impression in the eyes of Equipment Section Chief and Factory Director Ye. Thinking it over and over, he still had to blame Ye Bai.

Everyone smiled knowingly. They did not feel averse to his showing off; in fact, they all knew he wasn't really bragging, but merely trying to liven up the atmosphere.

Xia Zixuan also made a move, unleashing a Daoist divine ability of thunder the moment he struck. Bolts of lightning intertwined with a deafening roar, resembling a heavenly tribulation descending upon the mortal world, creating an immense momentum.

Tai Chi! Authentic Tai Chi. Without powerful true qi to drive it, this set of fist forms could only be considered ordinary—enough for physical fitness, but clearly insufficient for subduing enemies. However, fitness was all Qin Feng needed. This routine suited him very well, helping to improve his physical condition and enhance the quality of his sleep.

A new academic year had begun, and the biggest change was that free university education had come to an end; everyone now had to pay tuition fees. Although complaints were heard everywhere, the fees still had to be paid. The thousand-yuan tuition per semester was affordable for most students, but it was hard on those from poorer family backgrounds.

The interrogation room featured a blazing brazier, making it easy to see the vast array of torture instruments neatly arranged inside—far more numerous than those in the Zhuozheng City dungeon.

"Nonsense! I, Wei Dong, am doing this for the sake of Tang Ji. Manager Tang, if you don't believe me, contact Elder Zhao and everything will come to light." Wei Dong was so enraged he flew into a frenzy.

Just as it is now, that posture and that scope—no matter how drastic the means—completely and fundamentally alter any situation to the point where it is difficult to find any further significance in it. Naturally, amidst such a scene, every single trace of that level of existence becomes truly unavoidable.

"It's nothing. The business world is like a battlefield; know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. We have complete mastery over his affairs, while he knows nothing about us. We are going to secure this project, and within two years, I will make the Tianqing Group the number one titan in Northwest China," Xiao Wei said with confidence.

Crack! A fierce bolt of lightning brutally struck Wang Chang's shoulder. Old Wang closed his eyes, thinking to himself that this time he was surely destined to meet Karl Marx, and struck by lightning at that—he wasn't even sure if his elder Marx would accept him. Instead, he felt a burning, fiery pain all over his body, accompanied by a wave of roasted-meat aroma wafting into his nose.

Dujuan glanced at him with displeasure, though she did not leave by herself. She took a seat in a chair at the other end of the office, keeping a certain distance from Wu Dashan.

Under conditions that almost everyone found incomprehensible, the spiritual energy of this world began to gradually wither away from its peak state, and even comprehension of the Great Dao met the same fate.

The mouth should be red, distinctly bright, and moist; the chest should be straight and protruding, with well-developed and broad anterior muscles; the bones of the crown of the neck should be large, with little flesh; and the mane on the crest of the neck should be thick, smooth, and neat.

However, for Li Ziyuan, simply waiting idly here was not his style. Nor would he sit by and watch his comrades suffer any casualties right under his own eyes, especially given that neither Sanliang nor his own guard had any experience in dealing with such snipers.

The current headmaster of Qingcheng Mountain, Xuaranyou, possessed unfathomable martial arts and a weak detachment from worldly affairs. After taking office, he instituted drastic policy changes, showing a strong inclination to get involved in the conflicts of the martial arts world.

"White Peony?! How could it be White Peony..." Nearly a year later, everyone instantly recognized this uninvited guest—the proprietress of the Apricot Blossom Village tavern who had once briefly crossed paths with Wukong and the others and left a deep impression on them.

"How about this: this humble servant shall ask the Honorable Lord for pointers on behalf of this young hero?" the middle-aged man spoke up. The young hero gave him a grateful look.

Her smile was like the thawing of an ice river in early spring, bringing warmth to the blooming flowers, making the chilly moonlight seem a fraction warmer.

The orthodox sects behind him watched the duel with eager anticipation. After all, no one knew the true strength of the Dark Gate's Lord. As the saying goes, "Know the enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles with no danger of defeat."

"Yellow ritual paper would be even better! Without further ado, hurry up and go prepare it! This poor Daoist is also a bit tired and would like to rest!" With that, the old Taoist stretched, slumped onto the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and began to doze off.

"Don't listen to Brother Li Xing's nonsense, everyone. These are just simple, rustic dishes, so please just make do with them..." Flushing with shyness, Yan'er busied herself pouring wine and serving food for everyone.

Demos walked over to the buffet table alone, selected a glass of orange juice, and returned. He brought the rim of the glass close to her lips.

Was he a figure from the mystic realm of the Eastern Lands, destined to fend off the impending Eastern Expedition? Was he an agent of the National Security Bureau, expending his final ounce of strength for the hegemony of his organization? Or was he a Holy Son of the Western Realms, meant to become a monarch and bear the responsibility for his people?

This time, Mordor intended both to eliminate internal rebellions and to use the assembled army to launch a final strike against humankind. Moreover, Mordor himself would lead the campaign in person.

Seo-hyun truly felt like a person who had swallowed Coptis chinensis—she had bitter suffering she could not voice. Every time she wanted to express something, her older sisters speaking in unison forced her to swallow her words back down, leaving her with no choice but to be swept along by her mischievous unnies into the trap they had long since prepared.

If one could only ascend, the closer one got to the water's surface, the more one felt the proximity of death. Although there was no destructive murderous intent above, a faint, irresistible force of law was pulling at them from somewhere.