Chapter 141 Slaying the Yaksha

The old bailiff stepped out of the duty room, grumbling under his breath.

Shielding the falling snowflakes overhead with one hand, he pushed open the wooden door of the outhouse, only to find the interior completely empty.

Claiming to answer nature's call but nowhere to be found in the latrine—he had undoubtedly used it as an excuse to go who knows where and mess around.

In times like these, running around everywhere deep into the night was practically asking for a death sentence.

He would definitely have to lecture him when he got back.

With these thoughts, the old bailiff closed the wooden door.

Zhou An was beaten back a step before regaining his footing, but the sword light pierced straight through his back, instantly shattering his defense... He was like a rubber ball, enduring fiercely! Leaping! Dodging! Trading blows hand-to-hand! Yet he still could not avoid being knocked back and forth.

"The engine in our car probably has some issues; the noise is getting louder and louder. You should find some time to check it out, lest it breaks down at a critical moment and messes things up," Gong Yun reminded him.

Chen Yunyang could not hold back anymore and exclaimed, "This piece is too good! It is simply absolute perfection!" Even someone like her with very ordinary skills in rhymed verse could recognize the brilliance of this mixture of long and short verses.

Zhou An and a few other eunuchs were still kneeling in the mourning hall, waiting for people to come and pay their respects. Just like yesterday, they would not close the doors to turn away visitors until close to the third watch. Even late at night, some people would come to offer condolences; certain folks simply preferred coming after dark.

The flask was actually already empty, but with this prop in hand, the guards rotating shifts outside did not harbor much suspicion due to my earlier act of delivering wine, and hampered by my status, they found it awkward to question or block me. Thus, I was able to make my way unimpeded all the way down to the dungeon.

The next instant, Qin Chuan spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, the golden fluid unexpectedly tinged with a thread of purplish-gold—it was his primordial essence blood, carrying immensely powerful vital energy.

However, extensive practice required a greater amount of soul power. With his current level of soul power, he likely lacked enough to sustain it to that extent.

Li Mengting twisted her waist, reached out along Lin Feng's arm, and flung her arms around his neck. Her warm lips instantly pressed onto Lin Feng's mouth, and her hands began to groam all over his body.

The method used by the Jincha Tusi to check whether a newcomer was in disguise was quite simple: first, he only met with trusted confidants, and furthermore, inspection was mandatory.

Since conditions were lacking right now, she could only slowly learn sketching while maintaining a sense of color, using colored pencils exclusively.

Leaving the martial arts gym, Sun Changning boarded a bus. After going all out with a round of training inside the gym, the anger in his chest still had not vented, but as he gradually calmed down, Sun Changning realized that many things he had just done were highly inappropriate.

Qiu Xuan took a deep breath, and a chill flowed straight from his nostrils into his heart and lungs, instantly transforming into a refreshing coolness. With the arrival of winter, a desolate landscape met the eye everywhere. In this coastal region, the howling sea winds made the atmosphere feel immensely lonely and desolate.

She might soften for just a brief moment, only to revert to her usual icy expression shortly after—an icy expression reserved solely for Fang Musheng.

The two things Lu Mofeng could least endure about her were: first, running away from home, and second, refusing to speak.

Jiang Yuanheng was awakened by someone whipping him. A burning, fiery pain racked his body, which was covered in mottled bloodstains—that was Jiang Yuanheng's very first sensation when he opened his eyes.

"The Madam is still the same after all these years; it's all because the Patriarch spoils her," Mo Chen said, full of admiration for Feng Yao. Yet Feng Yao's personality was such that when she was good, she was truly good—she could be fiercely loyal to those who caught her eye, but for anyone she disliked, she could torment them to death's door.

No sooner had Shen Yuxin gone upstairs than the sound of a car echoing from downstairs reached her ears. Hearing the commotion below, Shen Yuxin lifted her eyelids. Lying on the bed, unable to move, she only felt a restless heat and a parched, dry mouth.

Shen Yuxin hurried back in a flurry; running into him here, she naturally assumed he had come to catch her for being late.

The tendons within his body trembled softly, the meridians along his arms appearing and disappearing intermittently. Sun Changning kept his eyes closed; this was not merely a gamble, but a personal spiritual cultivation.