Volume One, Chapter 34: It Was Not Avian Influenza, but Deliberate Poisoning

When word spread that something had happened at the farm, everyone’s hearts tightened abruptly. They hurried towards the farm, footsteps hurried and chaotic, their faces marked with anxiety and worry. As soon as they stepped inside, a pungent stench assaulted their senses. All the chickens were in visible agony—some retched violently, their vomit scattered across the ground; some suffered relentless diarrhea, their bodies trembling with weakness; others struggled to breathe, their wings drooping powerlessly.

“Heavens, what kind of misfortune is this?” Dog-Egg’s mother cried out, her voice thick with pain and despair, eyes reddening instantly. “Heaven have mercy—can’t things ever go smoothly?” Old Madam Yang’s face was filled with helplessness...

By the side of the one-armed bartender, Tang Fan watched coldly as the man clung to life—likely jolted awake by the agony of being trampled moments ago. The gate was a massive stone, likely sealed with a restriction rather than guarded by men. Now, she bitterly regretted not studying more about arrays and restrictions; perhaps she could have broken the stone door and escaped.

He knew he should never feel this way, nor was it right. He had suffered grave wounds, and his resolve could not falter at such a moment.

Through the swirling dust, Hua Jiu glimpsed the fleeting silhouette of a snow-white leopard atop the roof, its crimson eyes glinting with mocking amusement as they swept over her.

So when Hailan proposed her idea, she did not refuse; instead, she gladly agreed, for after all, it would be to her own benefit.

As for the missing Lord Jingyuan, the Immortal Farmers’ Sect provided Qin Shuangying with all records of his time within their sect for her to examine.

Yet he resented Liang Yunchuan’s deep insight into his mind—so many matters he could sense, but had no means to counter.

Li Mo gazed at the lotus-shaped strange flame before him, which seemed a little aggrieved. He let out a sigh—was this fortune or disaster? He had wasted a drop of black dragon’s blood for nothing; his cultivation hadn’t advanced in the slightest, though his strength seemed to have increased. But as a cultivator and a mountain mover, what use was such brute force?

Hua Jiu flitted through the Immortal Farmers’ Sect like a specter. Soon she found the current Ascendant Rankings and the timekeeping artifact in the disciples’ quarters.

The more she thought, the more uneasy she became. Even returning from the Ruins, she’d been unsettled by all she’d endured there, smoldering with suppressed anger—now this, on top of it all.

In the thirteenth year of Jingtai, she was not yet the weathered old woman who had seen all the world had to offer, but a girl in the bloom of youth—innocent, vibrant, untouched by sorrow.

These black-clad men were cautious indeed, but never suspected that those droplets contained a potent petrification potion.

Eight hooves kicked wildly, four arms flailed—the two in the arena demonstrated all their skill, yet after thirty rounds, no victor emerged.

Tang Caiwei spoke up, a trace of puzzlement in her brows. She couldn’t understand why Tang Zheng was suddenly dressed this way; hadn’t everything seemed perfectly normal earlier when he led them all into this hotel?

Sobis watched Tiger’s retreating back and, gritting his teeth, declared, “I’m coming too,” and followed after him.

“Where do you intend to go?” Old Qin had already regained his usual frosty composure, his voice steady and cold.

When Wu Erlang saw Lu Zhishen topple Mao Di, he strode straight for Deputy Mao’s lieutenant. The man, seeing Wu Erlang advancing, was seized with terror and frantically tried to spur his horse away. But Wu Erlang was quicker—he launched a flying kick squarely at the lieutenant’s mount.

Elder Qinglin let out a piercing whistle and charged at the blood-winged men. Feng Yu unleashed his Storm Summoner, arrows whistling like a tempest—each shot capable of annihilating a blood-winged foe.

Qingling, too, noticed the lifeless look in everyone’s eyes. He felt lost, uncertain of what to do next. His thoughts raced as he glanced around the circle; an idea began to form. Though it might not get them all the way back to where they started, at least it would buy them more time.

Then, an invisible force swept past. Around Zhang Zhiping, layer upon layer of a spatial labyrinth rapidly took shape—the Asura Killing Sword flashed into being, but at the moment it was about to strike, it was trapped within the maze, allowing Zhang Zhiping to narrowly escape disaster.

He also knew that since this young man could rank twelfth among the Thirteen Disciples under Lord Wei Ba, his goose-feathered saber would certainly live up to its reputation.

Originally, Lin Di hadn’t intended to log onto this account again; there would be many games in the future, and Legends was but a fleeting chapter—he could not linger long. But the pleas of friends, and even rivals, from the game unexpectedly warmed his heart.

“What are you looking at? What is this thing?” Qian Buqi stared at the jumble of data on the screen—low-temperature energy lifeforms, temperature fluctuations, energy types, density. The more he looked, the more confused he became.

Zhang Zhiping gazed, entranced, at the web of law before him. If he could truly master its intricacies, his understanding of space would rise by several levels. The urge to lose himself in study was overwhelming.

At that moment, changes began to occur in Earth’s outer space. The site that had absorbed the titanic energies unleashed in Gaia’s battle with Aguru was starting to blur. All the world’s spatial laboratories detected the immense spatial energy and temporal distortions; nearly half the globe was affected.

Shen Sanniang’s hands, busy twisting silk, suddenly froze. After a long while, she slowly turned around and fixed her gaze upon her.

But just then, Dong Ru’s voice pierced the howling wind—something had happened to her. Her cry, sharp and urgent, rang out with startling clarity, reaching Wei Qilang’s ears.

Iron Aunt said, “There aren’t many men like him. If I were you, I wouldn’t really ignore him either.” Ding Linglin replied, “That’s why I’ll keep a close eye on him, not letting anyone else make a move.” Her smile took on a hint of fox-like cunning.