Volume One, Chapter 122: Back to an Old Flame

“Get out! Get out now!” shouted in the early morning from outside.

Su Ningxia rubbed her eyes and saw Ye Ting throwing everything out not far away.

Yet that strange disk was layered one over another, and in the outer ring many points of light flickered. As soon as Zhu Rongtian executed a sealing sigil, the bizarre disk sent out a cyan flash. Like Wang Chen’s Eye of Divine Punishment, it pierced the dense phantom-blue frost aura and flew straight south.

“Come to think of it, idiot brother, why would you run to a place like that?” Wuhe Qinli had even wanted to add, “Do you really want to die there?” but swallowed the words. Anyone with eyes could see he had finished off both parties with overwhelming force.

Hearing the young master of the family speak, those men all began licking their lips in excitement. They had never before seen such fury from the Flower-Clad Young Master. In the past, when he got angry, he would just beat people into being laid up for ten days or more; this time, he had actually broken their limbs. That could not fail to thrill them.

In recent years, the New Righteous Society had begun to set its gaze on the Wanzai district. Scar-Five—the branch boss of the New Righteous Society’s Wanzai branch—had arrived there, and since that man came, Chao Ge and his men had found their days growing increasingly tight.

After the greetings were done, Luo Yuner pulled Tang Shishi aside and asked, “Shishi, why did you bring all your lifesavers with you? Are you…?”

Before one can enter rebirth, one must pass through the Nine Nether Hells, and in that stage as many as ninety-nine out of a hundred souls are intercepted, because no matter how powerful you were in life, once your soul enters the Nine Nether Hells after death, all of its rules must be followed. The Lady Meng broth, the Bridge of Forgetfulness—everything must be endured.

Time flowed by slowly, second by second, until night finally descended. Over the whole desolate land, the equally bleak city lay, fallen and lifeless, quietly sprawled on this ash-gray earth.

“This is getting more and more interesting. The spectacle this time is far better to watch,” Yan Ge said, clearly interested, as if he were truly just a spectator. As soon as he spoke, Yan Ge flew toward the light dome.

“This young lady, you should understand—you owe me a life. Now tell me how you will repay me,” Tang Chuan suddenly said to the Peony Immortal.

Hao Nan kept silent, but this experience had changed his understanding of the beast world: so it turned out that high-level beasts could produce language, and their voices were no different from those of humans.

“Get out! Get out! Get out!!” the Black Mountain Old Fiend roared, swinging the Black Dragon Heaven-Swallowing Halberd and slashing through a towering pillar of righteous qi. In turn, it spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and flew backward, crashing down hard and carving a huge pit dozens of feet wide.

Chen Baihu did not close his eyes; they were held wide open, already full of blood streaks. It made clear that the words “die with eyes open” were grounded in fact.

My heart lurched; it was a photograph! Under normal circumstances, whenever a scene like that appears on television, it never promises good news. Who was Shen Mo watching, and what had he captured?

I told Qian Yiwen a few times, “It’s all right, all right, all right,” then asked about her situation and hung up.

The momentum between the two kept rising and rising, and before anyone noticed, the ground itself began to tremble. The once bright sky gradually grew dim.

They watched with their own eyes as members of the Aiqiya Tribe dragged out their companion’s body from the snow. Most of them were nearly unrecognizable, reduced to charred husks, and everyone shivered in terror, their hearts turning cold.