Volume One, Chapter 64: Young Master… The Jiang Family of Southern Heavens?

Life soon returned to its former tranquility. Ji Die immersed himself once more in the study of alchemy. As he refined his craft with high-grade first-tier elixirs, he found the process increasingly effortless. As for spirit stones... an alchemist rarely wanted for such things, and with the effectiveness of his elixirs—whether for healing wounds or restoring spiritual power—his reputation spread swiftly along the northern shore.

Gradually, more and more disciples from the northern shore began seeking him out, commissioning elixirs and always paying handsomely. Ji Die, of course, welcomed these requests and, in doing so, solidified his standing in the north.

One day, returning from Purple Sun Peak, Ji Die found Jiang Moli waiting outside his cave abode. Her red dress fluttered in the wind, her shoulders appearing somewhat frail. His right arm hung limply, unable to muster any strength. Such a scene, had the citizens of Mushuang City witnessed it, would have left them speechless with astonishment.

Consort Hua had committed countless misdeeds, and the Empress Dowager felt no pity for her. Instead, it was Mo Yuchen who, over the next half year, would need to plan carefully. Though his arm joint had long since healed, he still could not channel his strength. Any vigorous movement sent sharp, needle-like pains through his meridians, and no one knew how long recovery would take.

When the two reached the Empress Dowager, she took one in each hand and seated them by her bedside. This was precisely the situation that most confounded Dongfang Bujue, and the key reason Zhuge Xu had finally persuaded him.

Shi Ying knew that Lin Haidong hoped to use this opportunity to entrust the position of general to Deputy Commander Chen, but now was not yet the time to relinquish power.

Gazing at Li Jun’s expression, Du Lin realized the Great General was lost in other thoughts, and quickly schooled his own features with gravity.

Pei Ying, having just given birth, was still physically weak and required careful rest above all else. Thus, Song Hui and Li Xiu did not linger in the room, offering a few words of advice before taking their leave and allowing Li Jun and Pei Ying some privacy.

“Why would Heaven do this? Why make her die trapped in a nightmare?” Dong Ke’lan could not understand.

The elderly man teleported in an instant to Dong Ke’lan’s side, his fingers striking several acupoints on Chen Ji’s chest with lightning speed.

After speaking, Rona fled the hall as if escaping, leaving Tang Feng standing there, stunned.

Suddenly, a flash of silver swept by in the sunlight, dazzling the eyes. Focusing intently, one could see the Iron-Blade Mother Demon crouched behind, directing her brothers to draw their bows and loose arrows, resisting the government troops.

In less than ten minutes, the more than forty men surrounding us had been cut down to fewer than ten. Glancing aside, I noticed the boss nearby was barely clinging to life and could fall at any moment.

Shi Quan, seeing the Third Elder’s gruesome corpse, felt a chill despite himself. Though the old man was no saint, his skills were not weak, yet he had died so miserably, without even a chance to flee—proof enough of the enemy’s fearsome power.

While the two groups—Fengyun and Yunyang—each harbored their own intentions as they searched for their targets, Tang Feng had already slipped away with his men, having pulled off a perfect deception.

Seeing her resolve, Fuxin could only let her go. To be safe, he arranged four guards to accompany her and hurried back to report to Pei Gong.

After leaving Tiantai Mountain, Monk Wuming was still unwilling to give up. With nothing better to do, he wandered the area searching for Tong Niuer and Tang Wanlian. He remembered Tong Niuer claiming to be a local, not knowing those words were a fabrication meant to deceive him, causing the old monk much futile effort.

“You are forbidden from taking part in this naming contest!” Clearly, every name I suggested failed to meet Nalan Ruoxue’s standards.

With the addition of more than thirty horsemen, the convoy now numbered around a hundred—an imposing force. Chief Yang looked ahead, then behind, feeling much more at ease. Still, thinking they would reach Fuzhou in two or three days, he grew anxious about what the Wanshi Society and Dongshan Island might try.

Chu Lian furrowed her brow deeply; this matter was truly thorny. Each household’s festival cakes were prepared well in advance, and borrowing them was far from an ideal solution.

Just as Tianchen was counting his luck, he realized they had reached the tunnel’s end, but found only emptiness—a wall of pitch-black air blocking their way, trapping them inside the formation.

This left Bitterbeard utterly perplexed: how could a newly advanced cultivator in the early stage dare challenge one in the intermediate stage?

After transmigrating, Lu Chen still needed to use the laws of time, since he had no way of knowing where—or for how long—he might end up.

Shangguan Yuan’s gaze made his heart flutter, while Ma Wannian’s legs nearly buckled under him once more.

Ordinary people would feel dizzy, unwell, as if drifting alone in a boundless void.

“Lord Yan, your art of disguise grows ever more exquisite,” the guardsman said to the impostor who had just killed Zhang Meng.

Martial cultivators differ from spiritual cultivators. Spiritual cultivators, upon reaching the Spirit Vein stage, can draw in the world’s spiritual energy and never need to fast again. Martial cultivators, however, must first open their Qi Palace and, only after learning to absorb and expel spiritual energy like spiritual cultivators, can they achieve this.

Qin Wen nodded, her bright eyes shining with admiration, though mingled with complex emotions.

Few could sense the subtle undercurrents in the air, but Murong Xian was keenly aware they were directed at him.

“This child can hardly hold on any longer. Many times, I thought she was already gone…” Old Jos explained with a sigh.

With these thoughts, Lin Ze walked to the doorway, casting a glance at Hu Daguo, surrounded by a crowd.

“Commander of the Flying Cavalry, I appreciate your gracious offer. Should I ever need it, I will certainly consider it. For now, I must tend to the aftermath of battle. Farewell.” Wang Hou took his leave from the commander in haste.

Lin Ze ignored him, continuing with his work, leaving Mo Lin to stand awkwardly by.

Though General Hua was seething inside, facing someone with Lin Ze’s formidable background, he could only swallow his anger in silence.

If they did not value this, it meant the place held great business potential. Lin Ze, chin in hand, began to calculate his next move.