Chapter 67: Honeymoon Journey

A faint smirk played at the corners of my lips. I never expected that ice wall to withstand the combined assault of Commander Chihuo and Grand Protector Deli. As the wall shattered, I seized the brief moment when the flames and claws were held at bay, leapt high, and sprang out from within.

“What do you mean, ‘you’? If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out. If not, then keep your mouth shut! Someone, stuff a sock in his mouth!” I ordered unceremoniously.

The cultivation of fine agricultural crops entails more than meticulous selection and the careful breeding of superior genetic traits; crossbreeding between different varieties is of particular significance. Especially when it comes to varieties hailing from different latitudes, hybridization can prevent degeneration and give birth to new, improved strains.

After all the hardships Nebula had endured, it simply wouldn’t be my way to send her off with a single meal. That’s not my style, nor do I like owing anyone a debt.

“Still trying to take me on? Manager, give those two reckless fools a beating!” I looked at the two bodyguards with a mocking gaze.

Returning to his own quarters, Xiao Ge penned a letter and ordered it delivered to Bingzhou. He informed Pang Ji that he was willing to surrender and that troops could be dispatched.

Suddenly, something seemed to be stirring beneath the withered grass not far away. Duo’er’s eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on it, creeping closer to the pile bit by bit.

Xu Xiao didn’t dare look directly at Duanmu You anymore. The girl’s features were exquisitely beautiful, and at that moment, the subtle blend of shyness and allure she radiated nearly shattered his resistance entirely.

In truth, after leaving, he doubled back through the rear door, which had already been unlocked for him by someone waiting.

Heat—an unbearable, searing heat swept over my entire body, as if I’d become a mass of molten lava. Then, just as suddenly, a wave of bone-chilling cold enveloped me, like the frigid temperatures of deep space.

Ren Xiaomin glared at Zhao Xu with murderous intent, wishing she could tear him apart. There were already people watching the perimeter and others in the company keeping an eye on things—was it really necessary to go this far?

Regg, offering his critique, showed no mercy. With his pitch-black arm, he seized Edgar and unleashed a relentless 360-degree pummeling, putting his newly acquired “Hardening” Armament Haki to good use.

The giant’s state was truly pitiful—his body battered and broken, his entire left arm and shoulder gone, his chest torn open with bone and sinew exposed, and even his heart visible as it thudded within his chest cavity.

Spinning on the spot, her skirt, creased and delicate, floated lightly in the air, like a white cloud drifting across a blue sky—heartbreaking and dazzling all at once.

Recently, Qian Yinze had been learning to write lyrics and compose songs under Liang Ye’s tutelage, practically playing the flunky for him. He lived in constant fear that his crude songs would irritate Liang Ye one day, leaving him abandoned.

It turned out the figure that had entered before was merely a puppet conjured by the old man using the Profound Ghost Substitution Art. This puppet, far more sophisticated than ordinary Doppelganger or Mimicry spells, retained nearly thirty percent of the caster’s cultivation—enough to deceive several sages for a time.

On Orshfan’s side, the worm farm had expanded many times over. It seemed as if half the earth-dwellers in the mine had flocked here to raise earthworms.

The monk led them to the rear of the monastery, dug several feet into the soil, and revealed a massive hidden door. Inside, mountains of grain were piled high.

“Yes! Your mercy is boundless!” The knight, clad in full armor, sank to his knees again. I couldn’t help but feel weary just watching him.

“Young Master Yun! What brings you here?” she exclaimed in surprise. Realizing how close they were, she quickly retreated into the bed’s canopy.

She was dressed in a pale yellow gown, her figure tall and shapely, her oval face adorned with large, jet-black eyes set like gemstones in flawless jade. Her gaze shone bright and cold, her every movement exuding an air of effortless superiority.

Qu Qingran had seen that scene, though Xun Yi had done nothing wrong. Yet even she herself failed to realize that anything related to Ji Shuhan would provoke her emotions—though none of her impressions so far had been favorable.

With Ji Shuhan supporting her from behind, Qu Qingran doubled down on antagonizing Zhuohua. She squinted her eyes in a playful smile—a familiar expression in her battles. The angrier she became, the more she smiled, displaying the unmistakable signs of a charming madwoman.

Such thoughts, if harbored by others, might be understandable. But Luo had visited Tianlin Sect personally. In his judgment, the sect had confined far more than just one or two dragons infused with celestial energy. Tianlin Sect’s spiritual reserves might even surpass those of Zhongling Sect.

When that time comes, they needn’t worry about having their names engraved on the Merit Monument—those who remember them would do so only with contempt.

Was the person speaking at the back joking? On Chuzhou’s turf, someone dared to order him around? Did they really expect him to be afraid, to obey?

“Feihua, do whatever you think best—I, Ji Kuan, will give you my full support!” Ji Kuan said to Ye Feihua, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“The master actually knows about this poison? Is there an antidote?” the old woman asked. She was, after all, a renowned herbalist, yet had never heard of such a toxin.

Still, the tenacious peach tree that had survived, and the stone lock lying quietly in the corner, stirred many memories for Jiang Qi.

“You’re the strongest one in the family; it’s your right to eat,” Wang Qiaoping insisted, stuffing the steamed bread into Lu Yongguo’s hand.

The lantern had six sides, framed in sandalwood, its surface stretched with painted silk and adorned with golden red tassels. The rim was gilded, giving it an air of both brilliance and dignity.

Sweat streamed down Hao Xin’s face as she sat between their hospital beds, utterly torn. On one side, Xia Yeno had donated a kidney to save Hao Meng; on the other, Ding Yaoyang had fallen ill waiting for her. Both asked for water at exactly the same moment. Paralyzed by indecision, she did nothing for a long time.

The court session began. The officials exchanged glances, all aware of the emperor’s foul mood. None wished to draw attention to themselves. But if the emperor, busy as he was, could still find time for court, he would not withdraw so easily.

Some who witnessed the scene were astonished, scarcely able to believe it. When had the royal family produced such an outstanding descendant?