Volume One, Chapter 50: Hoisted by One's Own Petard

Liu Yunzhi smiled faintly, glanced back at me playfully, but said nothing. I glared at him, touched my nose.

“Next, what we need to discuss is how to kill Old Tiger,” Yan Zhen said coldly. He had hated people before, but never like he hated Old Tiger—a hatred so fierce it could flood the seas, burn the heavens, and consume all. His killing intent was boundless.

Under Wang Chen’s urging, Dora displayed her innate gift. As she did, the three others who had been languidly indifferent grew serious, for they too were curious about Dora’s abilities.

The second surge of solar energy, once it erupted, felt like being burned alive. Yan Zhen used the Pure Yang Sutra to slowly circulate and absorb the searing power. Only after a long while did he manage to draw in the force, and by some stroke of luck, his own strength subtly increased.

But at most, this only laid the foundation for the Sword Intent of Clouds; it was far from mastery. Before this, Yan Zhen had also established a certain foundation in the Sword Intent of Wind.

The empty teacup groaned under Guan Ling’s grip, and soon shattered. In his agitation, he unconsciously poured his spiritual energy into the fragments.

After they left, the Blood Calamity Giant Elephant let out a thunderous roar. The corridor that had opened in the midst of the corpse tide snapped shut, and the stream of zombies filled the gap.

An Zi bit his lip, scrutinizing carefully. This rascal really had found a mountain gate and folded it into his own domain. In the future, it would surely be another trap—one he would almost certainly fall into himself. Even in the celestial realm, one could not escape the entanglement of fate, though he fought hard to resist it.

The next morning, everyone was busy. The three grooms prepared at the company, while the brides gathered at Chu Yaqi’s house. The grand wedding set all of Suhang abuzz. Apart from the righteous sects, senior government officials and wealthy merchants were also invited.

I returned to the classroom. Gradually, more students arrived. Those who had been inside were still confused, while a few who had witnessed the earlier incident whispered among themselves, spreading the word.

Just as the count was about to reach three, a needle shot out from somewhere in the woods and pierced the hand of the man escorting Dulong.

After riding a set of single wheels, Van der Vaart pushed off hard with his left foot, his body shooting forward with a hum, like a chariot suddenly set into motion. By the time Ferrari reacted, they were already three meters apart.

Now, the God Shiva had not even destroyed a single Sun and Moon Sword Sect, which showed that in former times, the Ghost Lord could indeed kill the current Shiva with a single blow.

The recent Anhui Southern Incident during the War of Resistance was a wake-up call sounded by Chiang against the Communists.

But on an isolated island, with no safety measures and not a care given afterward, to simply walk away—is tantamount to murder.

Xu Changqing’s chest caved in with a sickening force, bones cracking. His back suddenly bulged outward, and in a blur, it seemed as if a fist mark had pierced through, shattering his shirt to pieces.

“Well, if it isn’t Second Master Hu! I thought you wouldn’t show up!” As soon as Wolfdog saw Old Hu, he walked right over.

Gu Anxing felt he needed to show some personality, or Su Yuche would definitely think he was a fool.

Zong Ruian was about to unbutton Su Jinxi’s clothing to administer acupuncture, but paused suddenly, as if recalling something.

The old mystic had said that the Xuanming Needle Technique was an art passed down through the Medical Hand lineage, impossible for outsiders to learn.

“Yes, there is, but now is not the time to say. Leave her to me, Minister,” Sima Yi replied.

In the current bureaucratic world, made up mostly of middle-aged and older men, Lin Fu was a rare exception—a young man in his prime.

As he spoke, he struck a nearby wooden pillar. The bowl-thick post snapped in two with a crack.

“You mean wax drips, leather whips, uniforms, and a double-act?” Zhao Jiadi raised his brows.

“Seeking a minor official post is only a pretense. Once Gu Wuchen enters the city, I’ll shamelessly ask if there's any idle position at the Inspectorate that might be up for grabs,” Lin Fu said.

“General, Lu Kang is surely aware that we’re at their gates, so they’ve tightened the city’s defenses and mobilized all their troops,” Liu Wei reported.

“Don’t look so gloomy—I don’t like it. Give me a little fox-like seduction,” Zhao Jiadi teased Yuan Shu, eyes open and grinning.

Back in the era of Duke An of Zhou, around 384 BC, Duke Xian of Qin eliminated the Western Rong and established the counties of Di and Huan—the predecessors of present-day Lintao. In fact, the history of Lintao County is even longer than that of Longxi Commandery.

After that day, throughout Shandong, Henan’s Guide Prefecture, and the southern direct-administered Xuzhou, Huai’an, and Yangzhou, light cavalry from Jiaozhou sped day and night, spreading the news of Li Meng and the Jiaozhou army’s total victory over the Tartar forces. From north to south, county after county erupted in wild celebration.

Valen was truly shaken. He could not understand how a person could love so deeply—it was ignorance! Foolishness! With tears in his eyes, Valen realized he had wronged He Peng and was filled with remorse.

But after hearing Hongyin’s words, Li Yan’s heart stirred, and he asked another question.

“We’re here. This is the place.” After walking for about ten minutes, Dark Orchid stopped, pointing ahead.

“How could something like this happen? Are you really planning to wipe them out? But how did you even see it—do you have X-ray vision?” Jie Xiu asked, frowning.

Just then, there was a gentle knock at the door. A young man went over and opened it. Helen stood there, her big eyes blinking.