Book One, Chapter 41: I’ve Already Killed Your Mother!

The lingering rays of the setting sun slanted across the mottled iron gate, casting long shadows as if even the light feared the desolation of this place.

Just moments ago, they had been discussing the peculiarity of Jiang Feng, who had actually managed to beat a demonic corpse to death single-handedly.

At this moment, the world was still spinning relentlessly around me. Even the stars in the sky seemed to fly about in disarray, and the asphalt road beneath my back swayed as though it might shake me right off the earth and up into the sky.

The estimated price could reach around eighteen thousand per square meter. With an entire building blown up, how massive was the financial loss?

Indeed, a few new faces had arrived in the East District this year—the kind of formidable figures who could make an entire city tremble with a single stomp of their feet.

Ever since I was injured last time, I had not allowed Yaya to appear in moments of crisis. Yet now, left with no other choice, I had no option but to let myself emerge.

"Paradise implies day and night, cold and heat, time and seasons." These were indeed matters he needed to consider—things he could not be certain of until he had spoken with the other lords.

Wuzhuo was drawn to Hua Wuxing approaching from the front. With the Cyan Light Sword tracing the Big Dipper in his hand, he suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from the surrounding bushes and inwardly thought, "This is bad."

Seeming to have made up his mind about something, the man in red took out a jade artifact from his sleeve. Carved upon it was the ferocious head of a dragon, while strange, uneven patterns were engraved on the broken surface of its neck.

"Once I've destroyed the lot of you, my own life or death no longer matters." Qingyang, clad in white, pointed his sword at them, as though resolved to perish together with his foes.

Beside them, a round-faced, plump Taoist priest blessed with wealth and wearing a gold-threaded Taoist robe waved his chubby hands and landed a solid blow right on the other's forehead.

"How is this possible? How can you be completely immune to my power?" The young man cried out in disbelief, his entire understanding of the world seemingly shattered.

Within the Shen family, the man they had always regarded as a god was at this moment being beaten back time and again by Fang Zheng like a stray dog, forced into a continuous retreat and beginning to vomit blood.

His lips were as pale as if dusted with flour, yet his bloodless face possessed a strangely captivating beauty. His sword-like brows, slanting upward into his temples, were slightly furrowed. Who would have ever imagined that Prince Jingyan, the once high-spirited and dashing God of War, would now be lying here like this?

"Ha, ha! Leng Feng, do you still dare to refuse? I'll give you one more chance: either die, or hand over the Heavenly Spirit Fruit!" The victor burst into a wild laugh.

Whether she reacted this way because she had been too deeply wounded by Jue Zhiyuan, or because this relationship had simply exhausted her to the core, she wore an expression of complete indifference, as though nothing in the world mattered anymore.

Another two months passed in this manner until Yun Muyang finally came to bid farewell to Chang Huan. Chang Huan said nothing, merely handing him a pouch-shaped, basic storage bag containing several bottles of nourishing pills for replenishing vital energy and consolidating one's foundation, which she had spent her late nights over the past few months refining.

A faint trace of a smile flickered in the King of Hell's eyes. Honest and foolishly sincere fellows like Qing Ziye were truly a rare breed indeed.

"That is the artifact used to enshrine and control the Rat King; they won't abandon the things over there." As Xun Qing spoke, he had already stepped out of the house and headed straight into the mountains.

This matter could be blamed on no one else, nor even on oneself; it could only be said to be ordained by fate. The most pressing task right now was to find Yueyi, while everything else could be temporarily left uninvestigated.

Stretching his neck to peer inside, he saw a refined and handsome young Taoist priest throwing a tantrum and acting shamelessly. With his voice strained to the breaking point, accompanied by tears and snot, his handsome face was almost completely distorted.

This police officer was definitely somewhat of a chatterbox, though he seemed like a genuinely good person. It was just that his endless stream of talk was frankly a bit too much to handle.