Volume One, Chapter 48: Suspecting the Child Belongs to Ninth Brother

After returning to the Qin residence, Yan Qiuning, famished, had a meal before retiring to her room. Xiaoli followed her in. "That Miss Cheng has been lurking outside, acting all suspicious ever since you and Master Jiu came back," she reported.

"Tell the bodyguards to teach her a lesson. She really thinks she’s a phoenix," Yan Qiuning replied, too weary to bother with schemes. Only now did she realize that taking action was so much simpler—and more effective—than plotting.

Xiaoli understood immediately and went out to discreetly instruct the bodyguards to deal with Miss Cheng.

"What do you mean by that!" Wen Yulan snapped, her guilty conscience making her hope the matter would be dropped. Yet Wen Youkou insisted on bringing it up, which was infuriating.

Once we had gathered all the young men, we led them to the deck, where their anxious fathers awaited. The scene of reunion played out once more, while we stood at a distance, observing quietly, careful not to intrude.

Shen Rong’s sudden arrival made Luo Tianzi and Zhu Sichan frown instinctively, clearly displeased to see Lan Rongyue interrupt.

Taking a deep breath, Zhou Tian calmed his inner turmoil, and soon began his cultivation technique. Crimson flames seeped from the skin of his palm in delicate tendrils.

"Roar." The more they feared something, the more likely it was to happen. After the river’s mighty blows struck the Ice Lion, a pained howl emerged from the mist. But the agony was short-lived, quickly twisting into a roar full of resentment.

"The two of them hold special identities. Those who come this time are no friends. If they go, it will only bring more trouble," the Grand Elder sighed deeply, his gaze drifting to the neighboring island. Though the two islands faced each other across the water, the people of Spirit Island regarded the other as forbidden ground.

Their bodies felt liberated, yet they discovered they could not move beyond a radius of four or five meters from themselves.

Little did they know, Jiang Sihua had never intended to let Wu Lu Xieyin go. After all, it had taken considerable effort to lure him here; how could she let him leave so easily?

Mu Yi sat down cross-legged, first regulating his breath and steadying the previously erratic primordial force within him. Clearly, these three battles had yielded significant gains, allowing Mu Yi to command the power of the advanced human realm with newfound precision—a marked improvement.

Of course, the journalists were already in position with their cameras and microphones, ready to capture everything from the best vantage points.

And that scoundrel had even caused her to lose a child—something she would never, ever forget.

Li Wei landed atop the broken tree trunk he’d kicked down earlier. Surfing along its length down the mountainside, he shifted his weight deftly, dodging every obstacle. The rush reminded him of the thrill of racing cars in his previous life.

In Lin Qi’s classes, the room was always packed. Everyone found his lectures fascinating, and after class, crowds of students would swarm him with questions.

Yunzhen and Yunying hadn’t been poisoned, but found themselves too entangled with Liang Qiuyi to break free. In an instant, both were bound tightly and fell to the ground.

Once, the Qin family had supported him, but now, that support was gone for good. Shen Lang’s return to the Yi family was only a matter of time.

Yet if it was true, he’d rather not have such an identity. The Underworld Hall, along with the Black Prison Demon Marsh, was one of the five great powers of the dark world—a terrifying and sinister force.

"So you truly refuse to surrender? Then there’s nothing more to say. In that case, die!" the red-robed archbishop sneered coldly.

Cheng Jiu stepped out of the elevator and immediately spotted Bai Xue by the open door of the chairman’s office. Smiling broadly, he approached.

Before he could get close, Madam Mo, who had been gazing out the window as if admiring the view, turned her head and fixed her eyes directly on him.

Shi Jia saw, in her memory, the eleven-year-old version of herself, weeping—blood mingling with tears as they streamed from her eyes.