Volume 1, Chapter 139: I Believe Her

Lin Cong could not help but let his gaze sweep once more over Fu Yuting’s impeccable features and curves, his heart skipping several beats. She was truly a paragon of humanity, possessing talent, wealth, and beauty all in one. The sense of superiority he had previously felt due to his own appearance and his status as captain of the swim team felt utterly insignificant in her presence.

"All of you, get out. It’s you again? Didn’t I tell you not to enter our village without permission?" the man who had previously encountered Gan Qingqing roared at her.

If the True Dragon Art, the most vital secret of the Xuanwu Kingdom, were to be leaked, he dared not imagine the consequences. His expression turned grim as he demanded, "Where did you obtain our kingdom’s True Dragon Art?" He had to get to the bottom of this; he could not tolerate anyone coveting the Xuanwu Kingdom from the shadows.

Serafall gripped his fists tightly, veins bulging and palms sweating. The crisp, crackling sounds of his knuckles sent shivers down the spines of those watching.

As we traded barbs on the ring, the numbers on the large screen in Hall A scrolled rapidly. The previous matches hadn’t drawn many bets, but seeing Prison Dragon step into the ring, the stakes instantly surged past ten million dollars and were climbing toward twenty million. I estimated that at this rate, it would certainly break the twenty-million mark.

A massive wave of energy erupted from his body, expanding like a tidal surge. Anything it touched was instantly obliterated. The raging hurricane was suppressed in an instant, and with Uchiha Madara at the center, a crater several kilometers long suddenly formed in the ground. The blade-like storm that had been swirling around him vanished without a trace.

"Heading to Kaoshan Village, are you? You can't go that way. See that? Take the other road; go that way," the bald man said.

Ma Long was terrified by this, a grown man reduced to tears, panicking as he begged us to put in a good word for him and plead his case.

Meanwhile, the outside world was in an uproar. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the scene displayed by the Gate of Heaven Execution, where everything occurring within the Battlefield of Destiny was clearly reflected.

Just as Li Dian was left speechless by Xu Huang’s conjecture, earth-shaking shouts of battle surged toward them.

Gongsun Zan, however, did not expect that all of this had already been calculated by others, and a butcher's knife was slowly approaching his back, glinting with a cold, lethal light.

In doing all this, he had never truly thought of serving the Han Dynasty; he only considered how he might better survive in these chaotic times. Could such a man still be called a loyal subject of the Han?

Mo Zhu fell silent. A moment ago, he had been bent on returning to see his master, but now, her words made him afraid to even entertain the thought.

"Of course." The young man in black offered a slightly wicked smile. Seeing this expression made He An feel inexplicably uncomfortable, a sensation akin to looking into a mirror only to have the reflection wink back at you.

"It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just afraid I won’t have anything to eat!" Manager Liu, not expecting Jin Faguang to offer him a cigarette, felt quite flattered.

"Me, lewd? I’m suave. I’m suave, not lewd—ever heard of that?" Jin Faguang said earnestly, though his eyes were fixed on Mei Yu’s chest, secretly guessing whether she was an A, B, or C cup.

Hearing Ma Zongheng’s agreement, Zhuge Liang could not help but reveal a radiant smile and gave a slight nod.

In truth, Qin Feng was genuinely terrified that in the next bite, Xiao Xuanwu might just snap his manhood off.

"Scram, you rat!" Suddenly, Zhao Yun let out a thunderous roar and thrust his spear forward. Cao Hong was startled and hurriedly pulled back his blade, but by the time he reacted, he saw a Qilin wreathed in white flames charging toward him.

This carriage journey encountered no assassins, likely because Helan Yao had already spread word in the capital that the Third Prince was critically ill and returning for treatment. Consequently, those in the capital were in no rush to strike. At this juncture, if Long Shaoyan were to die, no one would be able to escape the blame.