Volume One, Chapter 87: Ji Junyong Covets His Sister-in-law?

Captain Yang instructed, “Ji, the second son of the Ji family, carry your sister-in-law on your back to the brigade and ride a horse—it's faster that way.”

Ji Junyong nodded. After a day of hard labor, he was completely exhausted. But for the sake of his sister-in-law, he would summon the strength he didn’t have.

“Sister-in-law, hold on.”

He recalled how, in his days of training, he had bound thirty kilograms of sand to his calves every day and still strode as swiftly as if he were unburdened. Now, carrying his sister-in-law weighed less than a third of what he used to bear.

“You intend to use this for cultivation?” Liu Qingyun, having figured out the connection, spoke up directly. He knew this topic was taboo, but his curiosity for the unusual always got the better of him.

Yan Yue pretended to take a pulse for a while, focusing on Ding Xiang’s face that had turned pale with fear, all the while pondering how to dispel the deep-rooted sense of hierarchy in Ding Xiang’s heart, so they could relate to each other as before.

Strangely, the demon clans, regardless of strength, hurled themselves forward one after another, from Wangquan to Wending, only to be obliterated by a single axe blow, leaving not even a trace behind.

She lay quietly in Qin Tian’s arms. Since he was unwilling to speak, and given Li Qing’s temperament, she obviously had no intention of pressing further.

“Brother, where will we stay tonight?” After being told by several inns that there were no rooms available, Mo Bai looked at Ye Ge with a face full of misery.

The suddenness of it all left Yu Kun at a loss. Looking closely, he realized it was his good friend Yan Yang.

“Help!” Just as he was about to draw his bow, Yan Yue suddenly shouted. The abrupt cry startled everyone into stillness, every gaze fixed on her. Murong Yan had just finished drawing his bow, but Yan Yue’s sudden shout so startled him that his hand slipped, and no one knew where the arrow went.

Their lips met once more—not as frenzied as before, but a hundred times sweeter.

Leaving the kitchen, Luo Bing, guilt-ridden, dared not return to her room for a bath at a time like this.

Wu Biheng, at the mid-level of the Cloud Heaven stage, fought with astonishing might—enough to defeat those at the Cloud Heaven peak. Disciples of the Sword Immortal Sect far surpassed cultivators of the same rank from other sects, just as the rumors claimed.

The highest commander on the scene was a peak Level Six Mahayana expert from Juesha. As soon as Liu Quan appeared, he recognized him immediately and was the first to bow in greeting.

Faced with these two men of military bearing, Zhou Huafeng dared not let his guard down. That palpable aura of menace was no façade; it was a testament to their strength.

A thousand miles away, atop a mountain, the middle-aged man showed no reaction—he had known all along. But the elders of Qingyun Sect were shocked. In the realm of Return to Immortality, they were privy to certain secrets and well knew how mysterious and terrifying the Celestial Clan truly was.

Wang Chu, too, had finished his tasks. He succeeded in gathering valuable intelligence for Zheng Nan, and ultimately obtained a crucial recording. For this, Zheng Nan treated him to a meal at a five-star hotel—his contribution was indispensable.

The face of the Celestial King was grim and ashen. He gnashed his teeth, murderous light flickering in his eyes. Shielded by a bronze cauldron and attacking with a pitch-black demonic cave, his defense and offense were perfectly coordinated. Even with the Holy Son of the Demonic Palace wielding unparalleled techniques, he could not breach it—the bronze cauldron was no ordinary weapon, its defensive power was truly formidable.

The ancestor of the Celestial Realm surveyed the battlefield with a cold, ruthless gaze. In the end, he said nothing, but tore open the void and stepped through, intending to traverse the ancient battlefield by means of spatial teleportation—he knew full well that there was no hope of victory if he remained, not with Zi Ying wielding the sacred weapon.

Many were visibly moved, for ever since ancient times, the chieftain of the Jiangchen clan had almost always been Jiang Kun, yet never had a true Jiangchen arisen. Still, all clansmen understood that the real chieftain of their people could only be Jiangchen himself.

In the midst of the flight, another seventh-rank spirit warrior fell beneath the claws of that sixth-rank yang-level demonic beast.