Volume 1, Chapter 43: Honey Trap

Expanding the range of the wind shield, Mingli carefully squatted down by Bai Fei's side to examine her. A circle of spider silk was bound around her left leg, emitting a faint white smoke, clearly indicating corrosion.

This was his first time confronting a Tier 2. Apart from his initial encounter with zombies, Chengtian had spent the time rising from Level 1 to Level 2 stationed within the base. Master Gao had other uses for him and would not let him out to kill zombies; following Bai Fei afterward mostly involved handling administrative and routine tasks.

Qiao Ziheng walked to the roadside, hailed a rickshaw, and rode back to the courtyard in the concession.

"This drama is considered an investment by Xinsheng, and several of their artists are currently filming in it. Since I happened to be passing by, I dropped by to take a look, and incidentally to check out a few scripts Director Li currently has on hand," Qin Kewei said.

Suddenly, her waist was grabbed by a pair of greasy hands smeared with saliva. The moment Ning Laner turned her head, she found herself face-to-face with a greasy, foolish, drooling countenance comparable to a pig's head.

To be honest, there actually were. The difference lay in the fact that they strictly guarded the dozens of ancestral formations passed down in their own family, without bothering to learn unnecessary ones. In the southeastern frontier where traditional heritage was lacking, this was not really a major flaw. Mastering the commonly used formations already made them superior to many rogue cultivator array masters, and it allowed them to handle most situations.

After weighing the options, to preserve Yue Zhicheng's life right under Dong Guodong's nose, Qiao Ziheng's proposed method was indeed the only viable one.

With potato chips chewing in her mouth, Meng Sansui looked at Mu Cha, who was earnestly organizing documents. *Sigh, why hadn't she noticed before that this girl could take things so seriously?*

Because it was in the main hall and close to the street, within a short while, throngs of townspeople poured inside, unstoppable even when people tried to block them.

Liu Shufang's gaze was full of scrutiny, which seemed to displease Lu Beixiao. The aura radiating from his entire body turned chillingly sharp and piercing, a layer of frost seeming to drift across his handsome, elongated brows. In just a single instant, the air grew thin and frigid.

"Let's go, let's check out other jewelry!" Guyu was somewhat displeased as well, and pulling a smiling Shen Xinyao along, prepared to leave.

He was like a deflated ball, with white streams of air leaking from every pore of his body—could this possibly be the national fortune of the Great Ming Dynasty?

"A dying man, what else is there you wish to say?" Wanli frowned at the words, his tone cold and fraught with murderous intent.

The atmosphere in the office grew tense. Gu ChuChu clasped her hands together, feeling somewhat conflicted inside. The official talking points she had meticulously prepared beforehand suddenly failed to work here.

Outsiders could not enter because the gates of the Poisonous Venom Marsh closed automatically, and they had no way to open them either.

Hyuga Yunkawa had not expected the clan leader, Hyuga Ryusuke, to hold his grandson in such high regard. In fact, his own prediction was that Sakuya would master the Sixty-Four Palms of the Gentle Fist around the age of 12, but the clan leader's prediction was two years earlier than his own.

More importantly, this was by no means an accidental situation. On the contrary, everyone participating in this trial possessed formidable strength.

The power of this single palm strike could usually unleash twice one's own strength, or even more. Once this palm was executed, Zhou Tianyi would be left with absolutely no backup plans or hidden techniques.

Fengyao walked to a spot some distance away to sit and rest, too lazy to watch them acting all sweet and clingy here.

Witnessing this scene, Shen Xinyao finally believed Guyu's words—the other party had indeed come specifically for Su Xueyan.

Before reaching the Sacred Mountain, she had already attained the peak of the Eternal Emperor Realm, and her true combat capability was no less than that of the Celestial Clan's Saint Son Tianxin, capable of rivaling practitioners at the second tier of the Immortal Imperial Realm.

Liu Hai now found not only the head of the Chen family looking frail and feeble, but even the Second Uncle Chen of his memory appeared identical.

Song Ren believed that as long as he continued to delve into research along that direction, his medical standards would certainly ascend to a whole new level within a few years.

Perhaps it was because his inner world possessed a self-sustaining, endless cycle, forming a realm of its own capable of achieving balance with the outside world, thereby allowing for a nearly eternal existence.

Su Nan was not a rash person. Should any danger lurk within this primeval forest, he would swiftly find a solution. However, what concerned him most were the ferocious beasts inhabiting this virgin forest; if some immensely powerful beast were to suddenly leap out and devour him, it would truly be the absolute end.

No wonder his popularity had been soaring so rapidly of late; with so many followers, the sheer numbers alone were already staggering, not to mention his multitude of loyal fans.

"I have arrived!" A trace of crimson flashed across his eyes. A cruel smile surfaced on Qin Shoujun's lips as he weighed the blade in his hand and walked toward the gates of the luxury villa district.

Seated high upon the royal throne, eagerly awaiting Zi Xin to return with the Great Elder of the Flame Clan, King Ziyan grew anxious and suddenly flew into a rage.

Mo Wuque shook his head and glanced at the surrounding scenery: dim skies and withered trees—the quintessential backdrop for a villain's lair.

After saying that, Wu Hao could no longer afford to keep his vital male parts covered, and began to wholeheartedly practice the first six stages of the tyrannical Soul-Devouring Art.

Living a human life, people say it is neither long nor short. Calculated on the basis of a hundred-year lifespan, aside from the time spent eating and sleeping, how much is actually left?

Wave after wave of sword rain descended entirely within the circle, vanishing into thin air just like before. Afterward, the sword rain struck a high mountain dozens of miles away, riddling it with countless holes as the earth thundered and rumbled.

Yan Junchen watched Wu Shaojie's struggle from the side, feeling rather dismissive in her heart, and let out a cold snort.

Qi Qian'er slowly chewed on those words in her mind, and a wave of indescribable suffocation once again washed over her heart, feeling as though a giant hand was tightly squeezing her chest.

Although Chacha had known about this before coming, seeing Wen Liang like this filled her heart with lingering sorrow, yet she forced the corners of her mouth upward.

Wu Sanshi felt heartbroken seeing Wan'er so desolate and out of her wits, but since he was not good at comforting people, he could only state the facts and tell her everything he had learned, detail by detail.

Certain things would naturally seek you out on their own; this was not something I could refuse. Could I possibly refuse? If I could, so many things would not have happened. I do not like tragedies, and nobody does—no normal person ever would.

With a *clack*, yet another ceiling tile fell down without warning, though it seemed entirely fitting and destined. The merciless heavens appeared reluctant to spare someone already grieving, striking down upon a heart already shattered, crushing it all over again.

This news exploded across everyone's field of vision, but what stunned everyone even more was that all the media outlets seemed to speak with a unified voice, unanimously praising the volunteer teaching work in the countryside undertaken by Qi Qian'er and her team, affirming her kind intentions entirely.