Volume 1, Chapter 147: You Can Only Belong to Me

Lu Jingyan’s office was permeated with a cold, woody fragrance that matched the expression in his eyes at that exact moment. He raised his gaze, his eyes landing indifferently on Xu Qian, as if he were looking at a complete stranger.

"Xu Qian, haven't you been a bit too idle lately?"

His voice was steady, yet it carried a trace of thinly veiled anger. He had already lost his patience with her.

Once the entire group had passed through the waterfall, Master Xiping led everyone further forward. The cave was dimly lit, but Master Xiping used some unknown method to conjure a dazzling ball of light in the palm of his hand, illuminating the path ahead for everyone.

With his martial soul fully manifested, he strode toward Lin Qiu, reached out with both hands, and launched an attack directly at him.

It was past ten o'clock in the evening when he finally returned to the hotel, exhausted. As he stepped into the room, Tang Yue was sitting by the head of the bed waiting for him.

Following the Demon Emperor, Jiang Yuan gradually drew closer to the so-called sacred land. Even from a great distance, he could feel waves of intense heat washing over him. The power felt terribly familiar—it was the scorching energy of the World-Burning Golden Crow.

No matter how loudly Luo Yun called out, Chu Yunxiao did not even blink. Hearing her voice fade gradually into the distance, he stood up coldly and turned away without once looking back.

Bo Yuhan also took off his shoes, lay down beside her, and pulled her into his embrace, waiting quietly as Qiao Yang drifted off to sleep.

"What kind of mischievous ideas are floating around in that head of yours again?" Wu Dao tapped Wu Lian'er lightly on the forehead.

Later on, Yang Wei started out in cement and ceramic tiles, eventually breaking into the entire building materials industry, including the resale of steel.

The immortals of Penglai could not help but be stunned, hastily looking upward. Unfortunately, the giant's towering form blocked their line of sight, preventing them from seeing what was happening above.

Ye Chenmeng was not usually one to swoon, but looking at Lan Lichuan’s playfully raised eyebrows, she almost lost herself in a daze.

Consort Rong sat huddled in a corner of the bed, wrapped in a quilt with her hair disheveled, yet she still felt freezing cold. There was warmth beneath the quilt, and she did not want to move, but the wind at the doorway was simply too fierce, forcing her to get up and close the door.

He unknotted his tie, took off his suit jacket, and climbed onto the bed. I instantly understood what he intended to do.

Taking advantage of the moment when his grandfather went to the living room to play with Qing, Tan Wenyuan suddenly spoke up, a look of eager anticipation shining in his eyes.

"Shh, don't make a sound for a moment, let me think." Wei Renwu stroked his signature mustache, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Are we supposed to go to Spain and South Africa all over again?" Ye Chenmeng teased with a smile, as if she would never forget that honeymoon trip for as long as she lived.

Ying Gezhi nodded in reluctant agreement, wearing an expression and posture that perfectly mirrored a devoted master braving hardships and enduring bitter trials for the sake of his disciple.

"Well, if you're so good at deduction, why can't you deduce this?" Yue Ning began to mock Wei Renwu.

As it turned out, Lanqi really did have a connection to Mu Jinluo. The "mistress" mentioned by the old beggar was none other than Mu Jinluo.

Just as the "Wise Wolf" had predicted, the circular plaza was completely surrounded by countless creatures of all kinds. The sight was enough to make one's scalp tingle, but for the moment, none of them dared to overstep their bounds by even a fraction, not even daring to set foot on the steps of the plaza. Taking refuge within the circular plaza thus provided a temporary sense of safety.

Taisui spat out a glob of saliva and made the hybrid swallow it. Fifteen minutes later, the child, exhausted from talking, drew his last breath in Wang Ping's arms.

When Leng Ziquan spoke thus, he truly did not believe that she could pull off any performance that would convince him she was genuinely a fox spirit transformed.

Never in her wildest dreams had she expected that Zhao Donglai's cultivation had grown so formidable—so powerful that even a dozen or so members of the demon race had perished at his hands. It was clear that Zhao Donglai now possessed more than enough strength to protect himself.

Up to this point in the match, the players on both sides had remained relatively restrained, and no major conflicts had broken out. Yet the affair was immediately blown completely out of proportion. Then again, looking at it another way, could a derby match without a few flying fists truly be called a real "derby"?