Volume One, Chapter Ninety-One: Retribution

When he reached the entrance to the village, he saw Su Ningxia being shielded by others, as though she had powerful support behind her. He rushed over, intent on dragging her back, while cursing, “Su Ningxia, get back here this instant and marry as you were told, then use the bride price to settle this! Since when is this a place for you to talk?”

After some thought, Yang Bao agreed. Compared with uncovering the mastermind behind the poison ring, this condition was hardly a condition at all.

Let alone having experienced it, he had never even seen such a thing. Aside from a few absurd anti-Japanese melodramas, not even television would dare film it that way.

In just one day, the reporting hotline was nearly overwhelmed, and countless complaint letters flew toward the security bureau of Qinghe City like snowflakes.

There were five people in total. They were scattered through an area of the antique market, seeming unrelated at first glance, yet in truth they were never far from one another, watching over each other with considerable discipline.

The three of them sat down at the table and began to eat. Because of the earlier conflict, the atmosphere was awkward, and even though Bai Meng tried several times to start a conversation, it did no good at all.

What he needed to do was prepare for the night market; this trip out was simply to plan ahead. In any case, he had nothing else to do.

Though he was somewhat envious of the brothers who could go down and show their faces, he also understood there were too many wolves and too little meat. Even if he went down, he might not get a chance to intervene. Better to stay above and film, securing evidence instead.

But to make sure nothing went wrong, the chief adviser still sent a large number of people to keep watch on those two men and their families.

Because of this matter as well, Shen Zhou came to see the warmth and coldness of human relations. Truly, human affection is as thin as paper, and every turn of the world is a new game. Poor in the bustling city and no one asks after you; rich in the deep mountains and you have distant kin.

The car drove more than thirty kilometers out of the city before finally stopping in front of a desolate, deserted hospital.

“Go on, get back to the point. How did Silent Kill end up mixed up with Dream Shadow?” Zhang Yuyu tapped him and asked with great interest.

This was only a supplementary recording, and it had already wasted the time of several big shots. The directors did not dare delay for too long, and the atmosphere on set was too charged with hostility anyway. Separating them was the best solution.

“Grandpa, don’t worry, I’ll make sure she eats plenty! After all, my wife is amazing—she’s carrying three babies!” Tan Chu stretched out three fingers.

At present, the players were clearly divided into factions, and their personalities differed noticeably. The distinction was especially obvious in the cases of the Sun Wraith and the Moon Wraith.

For many matters, he simply no longer took them to heart. If you asked him, you would find that he was not unaware, nor unwilling to think about them; it was only that, during this period of time, he had prepared for so many things.

By now, Tang Yun and the other chicken dinner players had arrived in this plane and already rewritten many plots. For instance, the Wudang disciple Yu Daiyan, the Third Hero Yu, had not been left half crippled for life.

After Hanyu Bing made up his mind, he raised his head to look at the middle-aged man and said firmly, “God, I am not afraid of hardship. I have nothing now. I want to become a god. I want everything I used to have. Please help me.” Though Hanyu Bing was only five years old, after such a drastic change, he seemed to have grown a great deal.

Some beings of extraordinary talent possess the ability to master such flames before reaching the realm of the Great Golden Immortal, and they are basically all capable of fighting across realms.

That night, Zhang Yifei casually found a hotel to rest in. At eight the next morning, once the bank opened, he exchanged the one-hundred-thousand-yuan check and deposited it into his own bank account.

Everyone thought so. In truth, Yu Sheng was easy to get along with and did not say much during ordinary times, even in postmatch reviews.

However, now that he had obtained the Emperor-Teacher Bell, the Three Corpses Path of proof had a vessel for its burden. As for proving the Dao through power, the required magical energy was far too vast and would demand accumulation over immeasurable kalpas. How could he afford to wait that long?

“Your hand was truly extraordinary.” Yuan Hong did not care about the few fish that had slipped through the net. Taking the Refining Monster Gourd in one hand, he hurriedly flattered her with a timely compliment. The Queen Mother of the West spat at him.