Chapter 98: Soul-Devouring Art

How many spirit stones do you have?

Shen Xin hesitated slightly. “Only a dozen or so.”

Zhang Zhijie looked troubled.

“That’s not enough. Do you have anything else?”

Nan Xing forced a thin smile, then, under Jiang Yuan’s look of eager anticipation, took a longsword from her storage pouch.

Xu Chuan had never even considered reversing the great cycle of reincarnation. He was simply possessed by an overwhelming hunger for strength. Especially now, with the threat of the Eternal Realm hanging over him, even if he could not yet take part, he remained vigilant and worked toward it at every moment.

Li Nanhuang lay on the bed and glanced at Tuan’er, who was sleeping soundly, then at the basin of water that shuddered every so often.

Last night, she had tried to get close to Luo Ge, but he immediately put distance between them, utterly heartless.

He saw that the large glass door between the elevator lobby and the front of the inn was tightly shut. But of course that was no obstacle to me. Already prepared, I took a length of wire from my pocket, fiddled with it lightly a few times, and opened the padlock at the top.

He had more or less understood what was going on. He had not expected that after so long, Grandmother would still come to force him to agree to that matter. This time, it would probably not be easy to bluff his way through.

Even though the Su family was vast and powerful, if they reached too far, they would only be inviting disaster. So Old Master Su gave Madam Lin a severe dressing-down, and the two of them fell out over it.

The moment he saw Fan Chenglin and Su Fanyan, he was drawn to the pastry box in Su Fanyan’s hands.

It seared straight into his heart, especially those three words, as though they had been kneaded into the softest part of his soul.

Sun Wukong searched everywhere. He had only just arrived at Water Curtain Cave when he discovered demonic miasma surging within it, and immediately charged in, leaving the white-bearded old man behind.

That fellow had not even arrived yet, and the wisp of divine sense he had left on himself kept chattering on and on.

Li Xia was slightly startled by her words. It was true that the naming fee for a new variety show was not high. But then again, there was no guarantee that the new show would catch fire either.

The rest of her words were swallowed by the other person’s kiss, carrying a faint sweetness as it breached and conquered the heart of Ye Ange, which had long since begun to tremble.

Huang Jinwu was the same. Though still young, he had already passed the county, prefectural, and academy examinations in succession and earned the title of licentiate, though he had never been much interested in official fame and rank.

It was likely that Situ Mobai had never imagined that someone would have the audacity to break into Ye Luoyunhuang’s estate villa.

“I’m just taking a stroll around Suhang City, Ninth Uncle. Mengmeng, this is the first time I’ve met you.”

She did not dwell on how dangerous it was to go out alone.

He came to understand that there existed some profound and unfathomable artistic conception, a skill approaching the Dao, something that could be continually explored and was well worth pondering carefully.

Fu Chen was reading these news reports while one leg lay in a plaster cast, securely suspended above the hospital bed.

“Mm.” Shi Jingtian answered indifferently, adjusted his clothes a little, and walked toward the woods.

“All right then. I’ll let you have it.” With so many subordinates present, Fang Honglei could not openly turn against Liu Zishuo, so he could only suppress his greed and step aside in resentment.

After the two elders from the southeast woke up, they found that Mr. Duan’s courtyard was empty. When they rushed straight to the square at the summit of Daping Mountain, they saw the scene before them.

Without the Celestial Garment of Rainbow Clouds, her defenses were scarcely any stronger than those of an ordinary third-star Divine Transformation cultivator, and no matter how formidable her combat power might be, it could not surpass that of a late-stage third-star Divine Transformation cultivator.

Inside the Great Brightness Palace, Zhao Han still sat high upon the grand throne carved from the finest golden glazed jade essence, looking down at the upper echelons of the Wheel-Revolving Sect, whose auras were utterly different from what they had been three days earlier and had nearly all undergone a qualitative transformation. A look of satisfaction appeared on his face.