Chapter 127: Parting is for the Sake of a Better Reunion

Li Qingyun had slept for over an hour. Battling the fatigue that weighed down her body, she rose, determined to prepare breakfast for the scoundrel. The night before, she had set aside some lamb offal and a piece of mutton, intending to make a pot of lamb and radish soup early in the morning—a warm, comforting meal to accompany his journey to catch the train.

But Gu Tingzhou pulled her back under the covers.

“You worked hard last night. I’ll handle it myself,” he whispered into her ear, his morning voice tinged with a magnetic allure that made her ears tingle with pleasure. That damned scoundrel’s voice was surprisingly pleasant.

Her spirits lifted at the thought of finally tasting meat, she sprang out of bed, invigorated.

Previously, Hong Xiao had been publicly reprimanded by Li Hai—a harsh but necessary lesson. Being no match for Li Hai and suffering grievous wounds was only fitting, especially since the fault lay with Hong Xiao from the start.

Time passed without her noticing until Ye Feng suddenly felt the soles of his feet on solid ground, soft and comfortable beneath him. He opened his eyes to behold an endless expanse of grassland stretching as far as the eye could see.

“Forgive Mrs. Lan this once for shedding tears over another man. Next time, it will be unforgivable,” a man’s magnetic and melodious voice whispered close to her ear, stirring her nerves through the membrane.

“A dead man,” Wei Renwu muttered, pain prickling his heart as though stabbed.

From the darkness, a figure suddenly emerged—tall and imposing, clad in a flowing black robe. His hair and beard were streaked with gray; his sharp brows and narrow eyes commanded respect without a word.

In truth, Xiong Ti did not believe that the one capable of driving off disciples from the five great sects was the person who had kidnapped Guan Muxue. He simply could not discern Hu Jiumei’s true identity, which was why he asked so pointedly.

“Guangming, Molu, the Underworld Clan, and Huoyun,” Ye Feng mentally noted these four shameless bandits who had torn apart the Purple Flame Battle Armor. His cold, blood-red eyes flickered with a barely perceptible glint of murderous intent.

“Accident, accident, accident…” Wei Renwu kept repeating, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned. Was this truly an accident? Could there really be such a coincidence—that he just happened to arrive at the scene?

“But given your current situation, is it really wise to drag Qi Xi into this? She’s innocent,” Yun Qi said.

From then on, the new head of the Fox Clan became a godlike figure within the tribe. No one dared show him the slightest disrespect, lest they face severe punishment from the entire clan.

After submitting the blank sheets detailing their future cultivation tendencies, the other students filed out of the classroom to head back to their dormitories. Only Huo Yuhao and two others remained. Meanwhile, other classes were still buzzing with lively discussions about the freshmen assessment groupings.

Along the way, the second appearance of the white circle only strengthened Li Yujun’s confidence in his predictions.

The battle between Wind and Cloud had ended three centuries ago. Three hundred years had passed. Bai Pingting had also ascended to the realm of the Dao. Xiao Yin and Xiao You, after enduring centuries of trials by fire and ice, had become level ten sacred beasts. They could now communicate with each other and alter human forms.

At this moment, Zhang Benzhi had long lost his former glory. His appearance brought shame to the others at Qitian Academy. One by one, they rose, spat in his direction, and left without looking back.

In the Khan's tent, Modu Khan was bound tightly like a package. A middle-aged man, under forty, with a receding hairline and a greasy face—likely from overeating.

“Why would you forsake your rightful power and status, stand before your ancestors, and bury your talents with such difficulty?” the middle-aged man demanded roughly.

At this moment, it was decided to have Naruto withdraw from the battlefield. After all, the other front required more support from the masked man, Afei. The others tried to hold off Madara here, but the other “Madara” was unpredictable.

As the elevator doors slowly slid open, the trio found themselves in the underground parking lot on level minus two.

“Sort through the spoils on the ground for me. I’ll see what I can use; the rest is yours,” Chen Ran said, turning away from the now quiet students of the Extreme Academy and issuing orders to Cao Zhuoyue and his group.