Volume One, Chapter 114: Slander

Su Tingxue glared fiercely at Ye Ting, then declared, “It’s just sour grapes—complaining only because you can’t have them!”

Ye Guang shielded Su Tingxue and said, “Mom, I’ve told you I like Tingxue. Please stay out of this. Other than Tingxue, I don’t want to marry anyone else!”

At those words, a hint of smugness flashed in Su Tingxue’s eyes. After all, a man stood up for her, proving her worth—even if she didn’t care for Ye Guang, the fact that he chose her over Ye Ting gave her confidence.

“Shut your mouth!” Zhang Lanhua jumped up in agitation. If Ye Guang hadn’t been shielding Su Tingxue, she would have stormed over and slapped her.

“Ask her if she truly likes…”

In the darkness, Ye Bei could only rely on instinct to move forward. He reached Song Qing again, grabbed her hand, and guided her ahead.

Without the resonance of the field, he felt as if he were detached from the entire scene for a moment.

Yet, he was still a reserve enforcer for the Bureau, and returning home would take at least a month. Before leaving, he had to inform them.

Chen Chuan approached, noticing the area struck by Chen Bitong’s fist had completely caved in and was a pulpy mess. The anatomical diagram displayed showed that it should be the heart—an entire region around it was utterly destroyed.

Those tattered poles and faded flags—one could barely discern what had once adorned them. The “Revered Ananboch Sage” lived up to his title, worthy to be called a teacher.

Now, all hopes were placed on Ye Bei. They couldn’t risk losing contact and having something happen at such a crucial time.

If someone lost their head and started fighting in the city, whether it harmed bystanders or damaged buildings, it would be a disaster.

Fang Hao had used “Foresee the Future” to predict that Blue Star would face no danger in the coming century.

And just moments ago, that Doctor Li was arguing with Grandpa Wang, selling expensive blood pressure medication.

Manager Wu arrived, panting, accompanied by the Five Cities Constabulary. The crowd parted to both sides but not a single person left.

To cooperate with Wolfhead was to bargain with a tiger for its hide—should Wolfhead harbor treacherous thoughts, the consequences would be unimaginable.

In the wild forest, flocks of startled birds soared into the sky, raising clouds of dust. Soon, a large force from Zhongwei appeared on the mountain road, face-to-face with the Fenglei Legion. Yi Zhi stepped forward alone and spoke with Zhongwei’s commander. The man produced a military token, and in a flash, he shouted in fury.

Li Song held his soul-bound treasure, the Cycle Staff, horizontally in his hands. He took a step and, treading on air, aimed straight for Zhun Ti.

“Stop,” commanded Zhuang Wangu. The white bat ceased instantly. Even at high speed, there was no trace of inertia upon it. Zhuang Wangu, with a flick of his hand, caught several pitch-black, round stones that fell into his palm.

Xu Xian had now recalled seventy past lives, with only the first—Jiang Shang—remaining forgotten. He had reached a critical moment, but his first incarnation bore too much; without fate, it was nearly impossible to remember.

It turned out Yuan Hong used the Stone of Heaven’s Mending as the mother body, precisely to make up for what the heavens lacked. Though not fully true-spirit, it could still preserve the soul, unlike other cultivators whose true spirits, once listed on the Divine Enshrinement Board, must forever serve its wielder.

With that, Ru Yu, unwilling to linger in the cold palace, lifted the now-empty wooden bucket and left with a flourish.

Ruofei nodded. After a while, Mingyu brought over the box as instructed, offering it to Ruofei with both hands.

The so-called “Three Flowers Gathered at the Crown” was the most direct sign of a cultivator’s power. Among the immortals of the Chan School, many had reached this level, but unless the three corpses were severed, the auspicious clouds atop their heads could only shield them, not be deployed against foes.

Xiao Yifei shuddered. Instantly, his mind conjured a long list of names. The people listed wanted him dead; though not easy, it seemed feasible enough.

Three simple words weighed like a thousand pounds, leaving the four people heavy-hearted, unable to think how they should face Lü Weichen, who quickly donned his mask.

When Wang Po took the yellowed photograph and looked down, he saw nothing unusual.

After a lunch, Ying Xian felt peculiarly uneasy, sensing a burning gaze from across the table. She dared not look up, silently chewing the delicacies.

As she stepped back, the lady in black cast a resentful glance at Teng Dayuan, her gaze full of indignation.

The distinction between a martial disciple and a martial artist lay in two points: first, spiritual energy could be projected outward; second, it could become tangible.

Yao Yunxian’s kindly face belied the tension in his muscles, every fiber taut, his white beard—usually quivering beneath his chin—froze instantly, ceasing its anxious sway.

“Do you have any relatives here? Please notify them to come to the police station,” the officer asked after some thought.

She bloomed like a helpless flower—radiant at the edge of fading—his broad palm roamed her soft, warm flesh, trembling slightly.

Ye Zimo looked up at Ye Ling’s cautious face and realized this matter was perhaps more important than he imagined.

“You weren’t just flaunting your status earlier, planning not to compete with the ladies for favor?” Ming replied coldly.

Yet sometimes, things are guided by fate. Just as she accepted her circumstances, she found a way home after all.

Ma Dong had been anxious these days. This morning, he got a call from Ma Yingying—her husband had stormed out after a quarrel. Ma Dong quietly left his office and hid himself in a massage parlor.

Xue Fanxin was still at the bottom of the pool, regulating her breath and recovering. She thought half a day would suffice, but it took a full day, and even then, she had only regained most of her strength.

Xiao Yan returned home, buried herself in her room, unwilling to think or act, yet every scene of Zun flashed before her eyes, shimmering with a unique light.

After settling Yuanyuan’s affairs, Xia Yunhai went to his grandfather’s house for lunch, played chess with him, and then came here.

It might not have been Ye Ling’s fault—he’d only arrived a step before the others—but while Chenchen was unharmed, the other person had lost their breath. In sum, Ye Ling’s hand had been too heavy.

“Lan Ye, that dream was so real. Xixi was in a cave, writhing in agony, and finally gave birth to twins—a dragon and a phoenix. I remember the children’s faces so vividly.” Xiao Junmo was tormented—why was it only a dream?

She had only begun to taste love last month, and after just over a month, she was already pregnant.

She began to wonder—if she hadn’t agreed to marry Mu Xiu and had vehemently refused, perhaps she could have resisted him. But now, that possibility was gone forever.