Chapter 49: Beautiful Poetry

Originally, Ye Cheng had planned to steal a moment of leisure outside, never expecting that Ling Xiaoyue would send Shangguan Feiyan to drag him back. When Ling Xiaoyue saw Ye Cheng, and gazed upon his handsome face, an uncontainable anger suddenly surged within her.

This wretched servant—though the Princess had already pardoned him—had the audacity to loaf about outside. He must have been indulging himself, enjoying himself somewhere, likely in some filthy place such as a brothel.

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Zhou Yu assumed Lin Jing meant to lecture her, but felt indifferent. Although she did not interrupt Lin Jing, she maintained a stubborn silence; sometimes, silence itself was a form of resistance.

Watching the two falter, helpless against her, the man with the sallow complexion felt a secret delight rise in his heart. He listened with smug satisfaction to their banter, but suddenly his head throbbed with pain, followed by an agonizing sensation as if a pair of giant hands were tearing his mind apart. With a shriek, he collapsed painfully to the ground.

Unlike the instinct-driven beasts, cultivators retained a measure of reason in their eyes. Yet beneath that reason, a ravenous greed simmered, often more terrifying than instinct itself.

She had felt something was amiss since yesterday. Though she and Eric had collaborated for quite some time—he even said they were like sisters—never before had she lost track of him for such a long stretch, as happened yesterday.

Ever since the discovery of the mysterious cave, and the arrival of the famous actress Jiang Manzhen to film a television drama, he and the other villagers of Qu Yuan had awakened, as if suddenly seeing the dazzling five peaks for the first time. They realized there was a treasure basin here, a money tree! Yet their awakening came too late—people from Jiangzhou had already seized the advantage.

“Then Your Highness should speak to her again—though who knows if she still has time to mend her ways.” The topic was truly distasteful.

“Shaoyang, do you really intend to hand Ming Tai’s shares over to the Jiang family?” Shen Zhishuo, dressed in a white shirt, always seemed ethereal and detached from the world; his voice was as cool as an autumn night after rain, refreshing and serene.

“At least let me rest for a few minutes, will you?” Gu Shaoyang genuinely wished he could strangle Xia Yiyun, that cunning old fox. Did he think Gu was some tireless, free machine?

Prince Zi Ye was still inexperienced, never having faced such a scene before; his hand holding the sword began to tremble. He quickly shifted his body, avoiding Liszt’s boneless hand, pushing it away with his thigh to protect himself.

Especially those eyes—brilliant and shining, like crystalline stars in the heavens—they were unforgettable, impossible to mistake for anyone else.

“At your command, Master!” Wu Tian and Wu Ren bowed respectfully, their expressions calm. Such was the awareness required of those who served others.

Over the centuries, Yuan Tiangang had thoroughly studied the martial arts secrets of every existing sect.

Though he had spent this period in the Western District, he constantly reminded himself why he had come through Qiya to this place.

“I heard you,” the system replied simply, as always, oblivious to what they were doing.

Xia Xuan’s internal cultivation had improved; after consuming a whole “Pineapple Snow” with its pork leg, along with two other pork legs and a bowl of blood from two grandmasters.

With other deities, Chen Chuan dared to speak without fear for his own life, but in matters concerning the Dao, he dreaded saying a single wrong word or taking a misstep.

He also instructed everyone to watch closely for any possible outsiders; regardless of their origin, should they appear, all must join forces to eliminate them immediately.

The former would rather break than bend, refusing to beg even under threat of death; but Er Huzi had a pliant spine, which explained his survival—otherwise, Kunpeng would have destroyed him long ago.

“You’ve come to bring me back, haven’t you?” Linghu Feng stared intently at Xin Wuchen, as if he were determined to see through this young man.

Zhang Tianyi agreed wholeheartedly; society was indeed like this now. The saying “even the wealthy sleep in the mountains, and three golden hooks will still find you” captured this truth perfectly.