Volume 1, Chapter 33: Xiangzhu, instead of retreating, advanced—I am hitting you precisely!

In the dim, narrow alley, the candle flame flickered within a weathered glass lantern, casting Xiangzhu’s silhouette in shifting light and shadow. She had done nothing at all, yet as she stepped closer, Shuangyun found herself retreating half a step, her composure unraveling. In a confrontation, nothing is more perilous than showing weakness; to yield even an inch is to surrender the advantage. Xiangzhu did not press her, her gaze resting steadily and calmly upon Shuangyun.

With his younger sister gone, Uncle Li Yu had watched his brother-in-law’s hollow, wandering spirit over the past few days, knowing that such a lost soul was desperately seeking a home. In this feudal society, imperial power reigned supreme, beholden to no one, holding absolute dominion over life and death.

During this period, Li Qing had been working the market in the United States, gaining a profound understanding of what that market demanded. The empty land, the rusted winch, and several apparitions of Jiang Qin—her eyes streaming blood as she smiled with eerie intent—emerged one by one.

Lin Qiu’s words were, in truth, a deliberate obfuscation; the crux of the matter was that he could not explain the underlying reasons to Qiao Baiwei. Combined with the fact that the old patriarch had not uttered a single word regarding the succession to the throne in over half a year, it was clear he was orchestrating something profound.

However, her footsteps seemed to grow increasingly frantic, eventually breaking into a run. Before long, she collided with Yingzhou, who happened to be rushing in.

Xiao En pried open a section of shredded intestines and viscera to retrieve a pitch-black, diamond-shaped crystal. This was a high-grade soul stone—not something found in circulation, nor easily appraised, dropped only by monsters from the spiritual realm.

As a witness to the whims of history, regardless of her own intentions, Chen Yuanyuan’s fate had long since been sealed. She might have been able to uncover the truth, but Lady Lu no longer cared; her mind was entirely consumed by a spreading, suffocating rage.

The elder surnamed Sheng saw Fu Heng standing nearby and dared not make a rash move. Fu Heng’s appearances were always so elusive and ghostly; seeing the stone tower opened left them in a dilemma. To give up now would be more painful than having their own flesh carved away, especially since his second brother had already paid the price.

The appearance of Bai Baiyao took Han Tianwei completely by surprise. He had spent ages questioning Liu Zhiyuan to no avail. What kind of movement technique was this? How could it be so miraculous? If one were to fight such a person, where would one even find a target?

The two clashed head-on over a dozen times, the sky echoing with a relentless series of thundering impacts. The air trembled, and the violent shockwaves of their energy surged outward, throwing an already chaotic battlefield into further disarray.

Bu Jiuzhong had appeared on the bridge at some unknown moment, standing opposite Chou Wuyi. Though neither face betrayed the slightest hint of killing intent or combat desire, an invisible barrier seemed to loom between them—a fortification of the heart.

Seeing himself silenced, Brother Ba was momentarily stunned. He had never imagined that Soraka would calculate with such precision, noting even the exact moment he stepped into her casting range.

"Indeed, that is the case. Is the item you intend to sell what is in that large bag at your feet?" Qinyou asked, pointing downward.

Of course, his current popularity meant little, as many had come solely for his "alternative" channel name. If he failed to perform brilliantly in this match, nothing awaited him but an overwhelming deluge of abuse and insults.

The Qiongqi King’s voice grew increasingly excited and hurried. On the ground, the tens of thousands of shadow monsters watching with predatory intent seemed to resonate with the king’s battle intent and mood, unleashing a cacophony of roars in unison.

Zhou Ming took the storage bag and hurriedly tested it several times; overcome with joy, he kowtowed a dozen times before finally rising to his feet.

The old gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen. From his conversation with Jiang Rong the previous night, Zhang Liuliang had realized that the old man he had chatted with so many times was none other than Shi Ji, who had waited for an entire day at the Tiandu Grand Theater without ever showing his face.