Volume One, Chapter 24: The Truth Behind the Death

"What?"

Wen Yunwan rose from her chair, paced the room twice, and promptly summoned a maid, whispering a few instructions into her ear.

Xu Nuo watched Li Shaohui’s worried expression, wanting to offer words of comfort, but a sharp, agonizing pain in her chest rendered her unable to utter a single sound.

Aware that his chaotic room was an eyesore, Li Shaohui hurriedly extinguished his cigarette and pulled back the curtains, letting the sunlight spill in and restoring the spacious, luminous quality the room deserved.

He rose, washed up, and threw open the two windows facing the street, allowing the damp, fresh air to surge rapidly into the small front hall.

The two moved slowly toward Mo Fei, but as Mo Fei was speaking from the head of the table and the crowd below was listening with rapt attention, their progress remained sluggish.

"People from the Spirit Sword Sect? I have never seen them. How could there be anyone from the Spirit Sword Sect in this desolate wilderness? You’ve come to the wrong place!" Yu Liao, the commander of the Demon Wolf Cavalry, hastily drove him out of the stronghold.

As the group stepped into the dense belt of vegetation, that sickening stench vanished entirely, replaced by a fresh, herbaceous fragrance that coiled around them. Although it felt somewhat heavy and humid, it was far better than that foul, fishy odor.

Chu Xuan found his place and stood ready, only to notice a familiar figure beside him. This person was also dressed in the uniform of a Thunder Guard, though their face was covered, and they emitted an unusual, lingering scent.

Only then did Mo Ranchen feel relieved. He turned his head, just about to speak, when he collided with Pei Zhichen’s sharp, profound gaze. The hidden ferocity and possessiveness within those eyes gave him a genuine fright.

"I never expected it would end up benefiting you," Xiang Fei muttered to himself, staring at Chen Zhicheng from within the Grave Realm.

The banquet began. Except for Dongfang Yan and Han Yuan, no one showed Chu Xuan any kindness; they either drank in silence or busied themselves with the food. Dongfang Yu went so far as to refuse to attend.

In truth, An Li was panicking as well. She was terrified of falling to her death, but she decided to take a gamble—neither Jun Ling nor Jun Chi would stand by and watch her fall to her demise.

Because this matter was of critical importance, Chu Bin had no intention of lingering on current trivialities. He looked at his superior with an exceptionally grave expression.

The screech of the eagle, in the terrifying silence of the night, erupted like a crack of spring thunder, making everyone tremble involuntarily.

He had already given away a billion; this house felt like nothing more than a light drizzle, so Hong Que didn't give it much thought. He accepted it directly, planning to repay Wang Congcong in other ways later.

Prompted by her remark, Su Qi raised her eyes to scan the gate. She saw the black paint on the wooden doors peeling away, covered in green moss and spiderwebs—it was clearly a courtyard that had been abandoned for a long time.

Du Didong wore a look of utter confusion. He understood what a basic language was, but he could not fathom why one would need to practice it, nor did he have any idea how to go about doing so.

Usually, there was only one activity: the dueling tournament. As the name implied, it was a place where people were arranged to kill one another in the arena, while others watched from the sidelines like spectators at a play.

By now, he was capable of unleashing ten wind blades simultaneously against a single target, and the lethality was immense.

Just destroying Wuyazi’s fan had earned him a hundred points; if he were to defeat Wuyazi himself, how many would he get? Likely over a thousand.

Still, Wang Miao felt a sense of resentment in his heart; that was simply the kind of man he was. He was convinced that if he were the one to sing this song, the effect would surely be no worse than Hong Que's.