Volume One, Chapter 27: Mo Xingyuan, Your Ears Are Red

Even two blood brothers from the same great clan might find themselves drawn into opposing factions.

It is said that the Saint of Thieves was only mediocre in cultivation, but his speed was unmatched—none could rival him. Whenever he employed the Divine Steps, no matter if you were a body-breaking or god-gifted expert, he could steal right under your nose with ease. Rumor has it the Saint of Thieves once pilfered a weapon belonging to a being above even the god-gifted realm; though that master pursued him across multiple planes, he still escaped unscathed.

“Why not stay here with us?” Father Xie immediately offered to host General Xiong. “Though our house is simple…”

The man with the blade shouted coldly, and flames swept across the arena, covering half its floor in an instant. The fire roared as high as a man, its heat intense.

The old man with the white beard followed his gaze out of curiosity, then nodded in understanding.

Indeed, were it not for the Supreme System, with Zhang Bufan’s talent and his family’s cultivation resources, he might never reach the Opening Realm in his lifetime.

Months passed. Aside from the Southern Sea battlefield still raging, nothing major happened. Overturning Sea quietly returned to the deep ocean to cultivate, signing numerous transit agreements with the UN Maritime Administration via Yanhuang’s mediation—covering transportation, resource development, even waste disposal.

Linglong slowly opened her eyes to find Mingyao collapsed on her, smiling as she shifted to let him rest his head on her lap.

This time, the angel did not block Zhang Jinyang’s thrust, but sidestepped it. Zhang Jinyang’s returning sword barely grazed the angel’s chest and abdomen, yet failed to wound him.

Ding Hao was speechless; he didn’t even know where to look, and now he was told to find something? It was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

She treated Cao Mo as a peer—a boy her age. With someone of her generation at the branch office, she no longer felt alone. Besides, Cao Mo’s handsome appearance naturally drew people to him.

Following orders, a hundred men spaced twenty meters apart formed a line, spreading out like a net into the forest. Fifty DJI drones lifted off, closely surveilling every movement within the woods.

“No need for thanks. Let’s continue—you have one last chance. At least prove yourself worthy of being a supporting role.”

Bai Yi from the South Gate learned from Gu Ziqing that this was a narrative-driven game, so he began searching the room for clues.

Ancient texts record that those born with innate knowledge are exceedingly rare, perhaps one in millions of years, possessing fragmented memories from various worlds.

After dinner, Taoran helped Tang Zhe and his group tidy up, then stayed in the kitchen to assist with cooking.

The Lu family had collapsed spectacularly. Guo Jian still wanted to stir up trouble there, but Cao Mo was no longer interested. He dressed, tidied himself, turned off the lights, and descended the stairs, leaving the old apartment block built in the seventies.

Cao Mo shifted slightly, watching Zhou Han’s alluring face. He hadn’t expected her clear, deep eyes to quietly dig such a pit for him to fall into.

The masked man looked at Gu Ziqing and asked, “Why should the master kill me just for failing the mission?” Among Ye Hai’s dark guards, he was the strongest—Ye Hai would not kill him.

With so many people and so much chatter, Aunt Zhao pulled Su Ningfu to her side and whispered, “You’re a young lady!” She said no more, and Su Ningfu wisely stopped wandering.

Just as Song Yu’s palm was about to strike, Song Fei’s confused gaze wandered. Suddenly, he seemed to notice something—his eyes flashed with sharp brilliance.

He had already tried persuading Xichun many times along the journey, but she refused to return. With Mu Lixiao still here, getting Xichun to leave became even harder.

“But weren’t we…?” Bo Yunlang remembered being in the Western Region before he fainted—how was he now on the road home?

Truthfully, Qin Yue felt a tinge of regret. That pair of huanghuali antique cabinets, though not truly a matched set, were nearly identical in form. Even an expert, without close comparison, could hardly tell them apart.

Liu Meng leaned into Liu Yong’s embrace, seeming utterly powerless, resting her whole weight on him like a drunken soul, mumbling softly in his arms.

She glanced at the inserted tube, pulled it out, and with a shift of her body, sat up from the bed.

“So what? As long as I meet the Li family’s conditions, I’ll be free.” Jiang Mei curled her lips; clearly, her husband’s death meant little to her.

Pain began to throb in her chest. If she couldn’t return to Falling Moon Cliff in time, she might die on the road. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have delivered the gift herself—she could have sent anyone. Yet she insisted on coming.

That mysterious figure, in Liu Yong’s memory, should at least have been at the Divine Martial Realm—already beyond ordinary mortals.

“After Sanshui City, I didn’t return to the sect. I trained everywhere,” Shi Han’e said, glancing at Dugu Yun, hoping he’d understand. But Dugu Yun had already shifted his gaze to Xiao Yimo.

This manor was small, but still offered some profit. If she wasn’t the steward, the whole family would be left in dire straits.

Li Meiwu kept Qin Ruliang in the Lotus Pavilion. Seeing her so forlorn, Qin Ruliang couldn’t bear to leave and stayed until nightfall.

This time, she wanted to give someone a taste of their own medicine, secretly pressing the record button, mimicking An Ziying’s tactics to lure Su Yanqing into a trap.

Gu Nian became angry. At first, she checked every few minutes to see if Chu Zhaoyang had replied, but after so many attempts, each time she opened WeChat, her phone was quiet. Gu Nian pouted, changing to check every ten or twenty minutes, but still there was no reply.