Volume One, Chapter 21: You Want to Be My Wife?

Shen Chaowu shuddered in terror. She turned her head, only to see the man’s narrow, elegant phoenix eyes half-lowered, clearly not looking at her, yet she felt as if she had been targeted by the devil himself. “Mr. Zhou…” she stammered.

In her previous life, Shen Chaowu had feared him. She had hated him, too. If not for Zhou Jingdu’s silent approval, even the Zhou family’s servants, no matter how bold, would never have dared to shout at her or scheme against her at every opportunity. After all, no matter what mistakes she made, she was still the heiress of the Shen family. So, if anyone deserved her hatred most—aside from her three idiotic brothers—it was Zhou Jingdu. He was despicable.

Zhou Jingdu was strikingly handsome. Unfortunately, three years ago, an accident had left him lame...

Feeling the powerful aura in the distance, Hao Yu’s eyes flickered with intent. He was ready to act, for he believed that neither Bai Ma nor the middle-aged man would be enough to deal with this monstrous gorilla. Fear and tension forced Hao Yu to close his eyes, his hands gripping the sword hilt tightly. He raised the blade and swung, a nervous reflex of youth—he himself hardly knew what he was doing.

The closer he came to home, the more timid Zhou You became. He wandered near the entrance for a while—only the third floor—yet he still did not dare to go up.

After Li Fengyin and the others had gone, Hao Yu and Guo Huitong searched the area for a while, collecting plenty of good medicinal herbs before setting out again.

Ironically, the person with the greatest grievance against Li Ming was not Bian Yuanhang, who had suffered most from his persecution.

Then, he revealed his identity, showing his insignia. At this, she listened to Yun Ji’s words with wry amusement; her once unsullied life was ruined by someone like this. She wondered if it was fate or simply her misfortune.

Compassion fell silent. Such was the truth—her manner before Zhao Yi was entirely an act. At heart, she was not someone with an endearing air who liked to cling to others.

At that moment, Dumbledore stepped backward into the hospital room, holding one end of a sculpture-like object in both hands.

“They should be at the military camp by now. If nothing went wrong, they’re inspecting the troops. But His Majesty has never cared for the military—what could be his purpose there?” Pig Raised by Dogs replied.

Three days had just passed, and Yun Ji hadn’t even had time to sleep before Old Wang, Liu Ye, and the others excitedly rushed in to report the profits and losses of the past three days.

By contrast, the Ice Phoenix Constitution remained a mystery, for it was said that those who possessed it had never awakened its power. Long ago, Qionghua had someone with the Ice Phoenix Constitution, but for reasons unknown—even with Xuan Xiao’s aid—she never awakened.

Du Han, for her part, followed Meng Fan everywhere. But unlike Bai Nannan, who clung to Meng Fan out of pure affection, Du Han’s attachment was more a matter of dependence.

Just as Dorje Palang had said: there were performances of song and dance, music filled the air, and the King of Tibet was amiable, putting on no airs as he spoke with Yang Xue’e and asked Meng Fan a few questions. Upon learning Meng Fan was an orphan, the king nodded slightly.

How foolish—she had thought he’d begun to see her differently, only to realize he still regarded her as a brother would a younger sister.

“Hmph, as long as you understand. Let me give you some advice: either let us go at once and I might spare your life, or kill us now,” Xiong Zhifang said flatly, as though his own life were of no consequence.

Lin Haonan’s mind was utterly blank. Tang Feng’s voice rang in his ears with a deafening hum, yet he could still clearly hear every word and lesson.

“I’m new here! Tonight is my first shift!” Xiao Yunfei said quietly but firmly, approaching the two as usual.

He then took Old Master Lei’s used bowl to the kitchen. When the chef returned, he brought a new bowl of soup for Old Master Lei.

Hong Heyu nodded honestly with a smile. “That’s right, Hao Ran made it. Hao Ran, come introduce it to everyone.” With that, he looked to Chu Haoran.

Gu Xifeng could easily slay the ancient ice demon, but when faced with these people, he dared not meet force with force. His strength suppressed, he was no longer an immortal—indeed, even if he were, he could not wield immortal power now. He had no choice but to retreat, throwing three punches to push back Huang Guaisheng and Lu Wuqing, intent on escaping.

On his fifty millionth birthday, Zhang Ye feigned his death. Besides him, fewer than twenty of the Fate Star’s denizens had reached the seventh rank of the Primordial God. In recent years, it had become exceedingly rare for anyone to reach this stage. The seventh rank was a lonely place.

Thus, since I began cultivating the Dao, I have never made a misstep. But at this rate, even after another ten years, it’s unlikely I’ll reach the third tier.

A scorching wave of heat surged over, and Chen Xian could not help but stifle a groan of pain.

Ling Feng, leader of the Scarlet Refinement Sect, was an old acquaintance of Master Xiao. He respectfully asked Master Xiao to shelter his fellow cultivators for old time’s sake.

Ouyang Hu and Ouyang Lu each found a stone to sit on. The elder’s disciple cleaned their wounds with snow, then applied healing salve.

Even so, Sasaki’s gaze remained lost. Makoto Mado seemed to sense his confusion. Though Sasaki asked no questions, Makoto’s voice, as gentle as a mother’s, seemed intent on answering for him.

“But you have a gift for this! It would be such a shame not to pursue it,” Hua Tian insisted.

Hua Lihua smiled with pity upon learning that Guan Yuan’s contest involved food—she knew well how extraordinary Zhang Ye’s culinary skills were, and it was one of the reasons she was so fond of him.

Chen Xian nodded in agreement, and after a few polite words from the disciples of Mount Zixiao, they led everyone away.

“Yes, that was my intention. All these years as sect leader, I’ve been haunted by one thought: if only we’d had more disciples in that final battle with the Demon Sect, perhaps so many elders would not have died of exhaustion, and the losses would not have been so heavy,” Du Gu Hua sighed.

A cold sweat broke out upon me as I listened. Evidently, even confessing feelings to Lian Daozhen was not without its dangers.

I forced a smile, thinking to myself, thank goodness the place is full. If you really moved in, there’d be a spectacle indeed.

Zhou Yue remained silent, pressing the accelerator as if orchestrating this entire scene to provoke me, to make me drop my guard.

They had already entered the barracks. Guo Yang and his companion scrutinized their surroundings: every guard, inside tents and out, was armored and armed, horses never far from hand—relaxed on the surface, yet tightly disciplined. They nodded in approval.

Within this formation, I had grown numb, even doubting whether I was truly part of it and would never leave. So when I saw Yin Qi die before me, it felt as if I’d lost my last hope in this world. That pain was far worse than when I was first imprisoned within the picture frame.