Chapter Twenty-Seven: Concealing One’s Talents

“Brave Wen,”

Across from him, Zhao Hu clasped his fists, his knuckles grinding over the calluses of his palm.

Ye Tianyu curled his lips in a faint sneer, his expression elegant and composed as he spoke. He had already noticed Qian Santiao’s retreat; now was the time to offer him a way out. After all, everything Ye Tianyu wanted had already been accomplished.

Moreover, Ye Tianyu was genuinely curious. The Liu family’s roots were in the capital, and their son was about to hold an engagement banquet. By all rights, the event should be held in the capital—why was it happening here instead? He decided to ask Feifei about it later.

After finishing her words, Zijing placed both of the gu worms onto the snow. The thick snow instantly melted wherever the hundred-hued worm touched, leaving a patch a foot wide with no trace of snow on the ground. The red-black mother worm, on the other hand, burrowed into the snow upon contact, leaving only a tiny antenna exposed. If one didn’t look closely, it would be impossible to notice.

Cousin? Xia Liansheng muttered inwardly, eyes narrowing at Gu Lian. Suddenly, he recognized her—Gu Lian was the managing director who had appeared as Xia Yi’s representative during the Tianjiao incident. No wonder she looked somewhat familiar.

“Do you have any way to get inside?” Seeing Gu Lian approach, Yin Rongyu leaned in to ask.

The stage, and singing—these were the things Chen Xing valued above all else. He could disregard anything else, but would never neglect his performance on stage.

Within the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the imperial guards who had been resisting at the city gates silently retreated into the sealed city. The unmanned gates, under the assault of the soldiers outside, crashed down with a thunderous roar.

Nearly every fan of Shen Mengjie was aware of this miraculous skincare product. Some criticized it, others supported it, and many were simply waiting to see what would happen.

Seeing the tide turn irreversibly, Jiranzi could only blame his own lack of skill. Enduring the searing pain, he tore off a piece of his clothing, pricked his finger to draw blood, and wrote: “All at Wulong Daoist Temple must flee to Sanqing Mountain at once. Do not seek revenge for me!” After finishing, he waved at Daniu and Yang Zaixing. Though afraid, both hurried over at once.

Backstage, the organizers arrived with a male host and discussed the day’s schedule with Liu Tianhao.

Though the highest-ranking casualties of this battle were Yue Zhenshan and Elder Yu, they were far from the only ones. Many other top officials and trusted aides of Lv Feng fell eternal in this conflict.

But before he could touch the soul body, He Ming suddenly heard a sharp crack, followed by a surge of excruciating pain in his shoulder. The attack came so abruptly that, confused, he turned to see what had happened, momentarily forgetting even to use his soul-capturing technique.

When he woke up again and opened his eyes, the “nanny” was long gone. In her place were his father, Ning Haishan, and his mother, Fu Chunyan. Both were covered in blood, creating a ghastly sight.

No! This wretched Young Master Tian had truly chosen the worst possible time to appear. Really! Of all moments, he had to show up right now.

There were very few people in this hall, but each one’s martial arts had reached the innate realm or higher. Especially the master of the first hall—his skills were said to have reached the level of the Primordial Spirit.

“I’m asking you—where have you been going these past few nights?” Zou Yesheng demanded, his tone harsh.

Soaring through the air, Wang Long unleashed a sudden burst of lightning from his palm. This was the essence he had comprehended from the natural order, and it was the purest, most orthodox form of lightning. Its profundity lay in its unpredictable trajectory, following his every whim and making it impossible for opponents to anticipate or defend against.