Volume One, Chapter 84: Transforming the Sea

Legend has it that this is a world where belief shapes reality… everything arises from the heart.

“If you believe it is the sea, then it is the sea. If you think it is the sea, then it is the sea… To believe is to exist…”

The old man’s voice echoed in his ears, ethereal and fading. Ji Die could no longer make out his words, but could feel the lake of spiritual power within him surging.

To believe is to exist. In that instant, what Ji Die saw was no longer a lake, but—

An ocean!

It is said that the heart gives rise to form. Whether that is true or not, in that moment, the sea of energy within Ji Die suddenly expanded severalfold without warning.

Golden light burst forth inside, and countless streams of spiritual power shimmered with a golden glow, as if…

Qi Jie immediately lowered her gaze to size up Mi Ranyer. Although Mi Ranyer was already dressed modestly, the fabric she wore was still far too luxurious for ordinary people.

Yet, although she was a rival, she was the first to boost her ratings, not even sparing attention for her own show. To be honest, it all sounded a bit odd.

The vanguard leader was delighted and said with a smile, “Would you be able to guide us? I can pay you.” As he spoke, he flashed some silver coins in front of Zhang Fu. Zhang Fu feigned joy and replied, “Of course, sir.” With that, he reached out both hands towards the leader.

A certain someone’s jealous words drifted over softly. Yan Xinxin turned around slowly, her large eyes glancing over with disdain.

Mo Yongshu approached Yan Xinxin with a bowl of pitch-black concoction. The moment its odor reached her, Yan Xinxin couldn’t help but gag.

When he finished speaking, Zhou Wushuang fixed his gaze on Ao Yi; if the latter dared to lie or deceive, Zhou Wushuang would show no mercy.

Though Su Hao now existed in another world, countless instances had already proven that a great work would never go out of fashion, no matter where it was placed.

As Su Hai spoke, Su Hao could tell from his tone that Su Hai seemed to hold little regard for those fans of Qi Lang.

His mother, disregarding her own safety, led her family’s forces into the palace to rescue the then-Emperor of Yanbei, and even personally helped him ascend the throne.

Immediately, Hua Tuo bowed deeply to Wang Jie and said, “In that case, your humble servant Hua Tuo thanks Your Majesty!” With that, Hua Tuo made a grand salute.

In the United States, even the ascension of a president is inseparable from the influence of powerful financial cliques. According to some, the true rulers of America are these magnates. But Japan is different; because of the emperor’s existence, those conglomerates are powerless in politics—when have they ever witnessed such grand scenes?

“Let’s go. If I linger here any longer, my uncles will come looking for me again… What a tiresome job—even a smoke break is too much to ask.” The young fourth master grumbled, flicking his half-smoked cigarette toward the place where Chen Hao was hiding.

Yet even within the same cultivation realm, there are differences in strength; sometimes, combat ability varies greatly among equals.

Sun Yajing, blushing, accepted the wishing bottle and rose from the ground. Seizing a moment when Chen Hao was distracted, she tiptoed up and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

A couple of years ago, the northern winters played cruel tricks on the nomads. Heavy snow fell for days before the river thawed; half their cattle and sheep died of cold and hunger, and many herders perished as well. This year, things were much improved.

The plains were vast, broken only by massive boulders and ancient ruins. For about a month and a half, Situ Feng had been staying in a makeshift wooden stone house on Panjia Island. Now, in the firelight, Situ Feng lay on the stone bed inside. An hour passed.

As the crowd grew, the young men’s courage swelled. Believing themselves the center of attention, they became more energetic.

“I truly wish I could treat you as a brother. I kept my identity secret for fear that knowing the truth would push us apart. I wanted you to think I was just an ordinary person, like you,” Jiang Kairan interrupted Hong Ziyao.

The old street’s architecture was quaint and classical. Some buildings were modeled on ancient designs, while others had weathered the ravages of time, their legacy still intact.

“I don’t have any special skills; I simply gave it some herbal medicine with a mild anesthetic effect,” Lin Fei explained.

A gleam of amusement flickered in the songstress’s eyes. Clearly, though she spoke otherwise, she was quite pleased by Lin Yi’s words.

For them, the heat of the magma was bearable, though still intensely hot; they could only hover above it. To ordinary people, it would be like sitting in a sauna.

In any case, it was all decided long ago; the only question was how much more time would be given, and even then, time itself was not theirs to command.

Xiao Jun wanted to help, but two figures in white suddenly descended from the sky and carried off the unconscious person lying by the tree.

Meng Fei hadn’t expected the golden-masked figure before him to tremble and ask weakly, “Can you speak our language?” The voice came from the abdomen, not from behind the heavy mask.

But… given Lady Pang’s temperament, he doubted he would be alive today. Not that she would stoop to poison or murder—he had been sickly since childhood, often ill, and needed no elaborate schemes. The slightest neglect could easily send him to his grave.

Yet they had no idea who the CSC’s real target was, so they could only fight using standard tactics.

Tang Feng had long been troubled by this, but happened to overhear some cultivators discussing the cleansing ants while on the road.

“Your words put my mind at ease. Try it first—if you find it tiring, I’ll adjust,” Meng Fei offered.

“Well said! I was hesitant about studying, but now you’ve cleared up my worries. Let’s settle the matter of my studies, then?” the Primeval Lord of Heaven declared.

Outside, the wood in the iron basin still crackled. Gu Jingfeng gripped the rim of his cup tightly. In an instant, the cup shattered in his hand, and he called out to Jin Zhong, who stood guard outside.

Connections—he lacked none. Taiyu, Master Shengzong, Tianguan Academy, Yaxida… In short, Ting Shu already had the basic qualifications to run a dojo. As long as nothing went wrong during the assessment, he was confident he could have the place fully operational within a year or two.

“There’s no need to say more. I already know,” the Empress interrupted Zhang Wanfuk coldly.