Chapter 122: The Art of Diplomacy

“Devourer’s Demon Blade?” Liu Shen’s face twitched. He plunged the serrated blade of his Seven Killings Sword into the ground, glaring fiercely at the master and servant from the Nanzhao Kingdom.

“Please calm yourself, young hero!” The elderly servant from Nanzhao quickly pulled the young master behind him for protection, awkwardly explaining, “Just now, I saw the young hero engaged in fierce combat with the bandit leader and suffering losses in weaponry. Since you happened to be near our carriage, I called out to warn you and offered this blade for you to temporarily fend off your enemies. I meant no harm.”

The Spirit Spring Pool at the center gradually expanded. Before Long Ling’er could return to her room, Lin Xiafan entered the exclusive bathing chamber, locked the door from within, and with a single thought, immediately entered the Mysterious Heaven Glazed Immortal Tower.

The cemetery was surrounded entirely by trees; there were no mountains nearby. This indicated that the Dragon Clan ruins marked on the map were not located here.

Within the blacksmithing department overseen by Shi Tie, new weapons and armor were forged daily. Xue Ning’s troops trained relentlessly each day, and aided by the Vajra Body Refining Technique, their strength improved rapidly.

Qin Ying nodded but said nothing further. With a flash, she transformed into a streak of light and left the mountaintop.

But regret had come too late. She could only watch helplessly as another deer followed the white deer’s footsteps shyly and joyfully, slowly disappearing from the sight of the other deer.

Though she was a stranger to Sima You, Su Yu clearly understood the source of that sorrow in his eyes.

“I don’t mind lending it to you, but you must give me something in return,” the other party replied to Lin Xiafan.

Tonight, they were truly filming there. Lights, props, and rigging were all being set up, everything ready. As soon as the director called “action,” they could begin shooting immediately.

Before them stretched a barren wasteland where no grass grew—riddled with gullies, pits, massive boulders, and countless monstrous skeletons.

When that question was posed, those unaware of its underlying principles all turned their gazes to Liu. When it came to data analysis, none here were more skilled than he.

Chen Le instinctively glanced at Tang Xiaoqian’s resplendent hair, flowing like a princess’s in the evening breeze. Somehow, childish voices seemed to echo softly in his ears.

Speaking of spirit stones, the low-grade spirit stone Li Ran had gifted Zhang Hao only supported his cultivation for ten days before shattering into fragments.

Last night, Ye Lingchen was poisoned by the Passionate Nether Blossom toxin, his body burning with desire fire. It was Chu Yueying who sacrificed herself to save him by curing the poison.

They watched Fang Xuejun’s carriage depart in silence, exchanging glances before Su Ying suggested, “Let’s go eat nearby first.”

The old man exuded a stench of decay, like a rotting corpse left unattended for days. Filthy crows in the forest were drawn by the foul odor, flapping their wings and pecking at the dying man’s flesh. Weak and near death, he had no strength to shoo away these unwelcome guests.

“Screeech…” The sound of the massive iron gate opening reached Yu Xi’s ears. The prison’s iron gates were especially loud, impossible to ignore. He hurriedly got out of the carriage and approached the prison entrance.

Leaning on Wang Yuhé’s shoulder, Zhang Hao exhaled, completely losing control over the mountain ghost within him.

Zhang Hao sighed. It seemed he would have to search elsewhere, but where in this vast world could he possibly look?

She sat quietly to one side, her jet-black hair flowing like the night breeze. One leg crossed over the other, exuding an air of leisure. Holding a cup of red tea in one hand, she gazed into the distance, like a princess of the darkness.

Situ Linlang’s godfather was the kingdom’s grand general—a straightforward man who bluntly demanded evidence from her.

However, for them, the latter was likely far more numerous. Therefore, no matter who it was, if there was even the slightest hope, one must live strongly and well—not mourning the departed with tears but honoring their value through life itself. Only then could they truly repay the worth of those who had passed.