Chapter Sixty-Seven: You Yue

Hearing the commotion inside, Ye Feng paused, curiosity piqued. It sounded like another brute trying to force his way—judging from the woman’s voice, she was clearly unwilling. Soon after, there was a clatter of objects, and the woman began to cry for help. Ye Feng couldn’t just stand by. As a model citizen of the modern age, he would never allow such a thing to happen. He quietly tried the door, only to find it locked from within. “Cautious, aren’t they…”

Though he was Prefect Jia’s cousin, he was not truly a native of Yuzhang Commandery, and interfering in these matters felt somewhat out of place.

In the summer, night would fall in a matter of minutes, the sky darkening visibly. That was when the amusement park would burst into light, giving adults a rare chance to spend time playing with their children.

Life is a never-ending series of choices, and each choice means giving up all other possibilities. This bit of peace was no exception. All he could do was limit the number of choices.

Meng Hu was every bit his name—broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, with fierce brows and a glare that brooked no nonsense. Even a casual glance radiated a sense of unbridled strength. Now, as his mood soured, a stifling tension filled the entire Meng household’s main hall.

He had once considered marriage when he first met the Huo family, but later his heart grew cold to the idea.

More than a thousand carriages were loaded with goods, all swathed in layers of cloth, making it impossible to discern what was real or a ruse.

If he could obtain it, a period of secluded training would make subduing the White Tiger as easy as turning his hand.

It was said that a calamity a thousand years ago had stripped Linglong Peak of its dragon vein and scattered its spiritual energy. Over the ages, the mountain gradually withered, finally becoming the lifeless, snowbound wasteland it was now.

After Ye Feng spoke those words, his thoughts drifted. He realized from the first episode that it was all done for secrecy.

One may pause or hesitate, but as long as the mind keeps turning, one never truly stops moving forward.

Young man, keep your feet on the ground and find a way to ascend to the realm of the cultivators. Don’t reach for the unattainable.

The three gasped. “What weapon is this, so formidable?” Clearly, they were unsettled by the weapon, a lingering dread in their hearts.

When Qin Mufeng awoke again, he was lying on soft bedding. Lu Yue sat with her back to him, head bowed.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence. “Husband, have you had enough fun yet?” It was Xue Wu calling out.

“Of course Ling Zi Mo is still alive. Come, let’s take a look,” said the Ethereal Sword Immortal with a cheerful laugh.

Because the other had called her “child,” Yan An could only play along and began eating the dessert.

Seeing the fierce tiger behind Sun Jiaqi, Lin Feng, eyes closed, frowned slightly. It seemed this black-robed man possessed a soul-based martial technique.

“They have to believe you for it to work.” Tong Qianqian smirked disdainfully, gave me a sharp nudge with her shoulder, and walked away.

Restless in bed, when A Ling’s footsteps sounded, I closed my eyes, not wanting him to know I was awake.

“Who we are doesn’t matter. Just close your eyes and behave,” Ji Qingyun’s calm voice echoed through the world.

Outside, Fang Xirou glanced at the swirling snow and snorted. “You’re always looking for trouble when there’s none.”

A flash of embarrassment and annoyance crossed Tianxin’s eyes. Though she had suggested dual cultivation earlier, it was only to achieve her own ends—seizing the Great Jing’s fate, nothing more.

Still, the necessary expenses had to be made. Tonight, another three hundred yuan went into renting a ducal car just for appearances, nearly a month’s basic living costs for a family.

“Who said it’s yours? This is for your father. There’s still rice in the pot—get your own,” Zhao Lan interjected.

At last, with a face beaten bloody and smashed into the ground by “Fist Stone,” the King of a Hundred Matches raised his arm in triumph, igniting the entire arena.

Backstage, Ye Lingjun watched Yan Qi, who now sat at the center of the stage singing with deep feeling. He was in much better spirits than before; the former air of defeat had vanished completely. Ye Lingjun felt truly happy for him.