Chapter 59: Who Could Have the Heart to Scold Her

Hearing that it would cost him his life, the punk's expression changed instantly.

"Too scared to trade?" The bodyguard kicked him to the ground. "Then get lost!"

"And you." The bodyguard pressed a dagger against Yu Xia's face. "Do you know what place this is? How dare you just wander in. Get out of here before this big brother slices up that pretty face of yours."

The icy blade slid across Yu Xia's cheek, and she felt a sudden surge of pure malice washing over her, prompting an urge to retaliate, much like she had back in the Aggramar mental realm—

"Fine!" Chi Ming knew that whatever Yuan Tong refined, even at its worst, would still surpass what he had handed over just moments ago.

"Are the survivors actually human? Or are they high-status researchers residing deep within the base?" I silently speculated on the true identities of the survivors lurking inside the facility.

Seeing her attitude, I was left utterly helpless. What else could I possibly do? I certainly couldn't afford to be more anxious than the emperor himself while the eunuch remained unbothered.

Li Qiang took a deep breath, mentally channeling the divine essence within his body. Wherever the divine power reached, his vitality became immensely vibrant. Moreover, he could distinctly feel that the power he was wielding had undergone a fundamental transformation, and his entire physical form seemed to be turning ethereal.

Or could it be that the Yuan family's claim about the dragon scales granting eternal youth actually originated from the Divine Village?

Seeing that the beast had given up any hope of escape and instead adopted a desperate, do-or-die posture, Zhang Hu felt no fear whatsoever; quite the opposite, a cold smile spread across his broad, rugged face.

After finishing the meal, I held Yan Jie's hand just like any other sweet couple, completely immersed in romance. Yet deep in my heart, there remained Su Xue, who held an identical and equally irreplaceable position.

Seeing his eyes filled with grief and agony as he repeatedly tried to pierce through the gathering light to save me, while his own body suffered an increasing number of severe burns, tears finally broke past my eyelids. I desperately wanted to open my mouth and tell him to give up, but I knew that no matter what I said at this moment, he wouldn't listen.

Feeling the overwhelming pressure radiating from Yuan Tong, Li Qiang finally understood what a true deity was. He realized that despite cultivating for so long, the gap between himself and an authentic god was still as vast as heaven and earth. In his heart, he secretly warned himself to practice with even greater diligence in the future.

Yang Lige wasn't suffering from an itch, but rather a profound discomfort—an odd soreness in his lower back. It wasn't quite painful, yet not entirely painless either; regardless, it was a thoroughly strange sensation. Later on, he heard someone mention that this was a sign of kidney deficiency, which easily led to memory decline, and others suggested he should cut back on excessive self-gratification.

The Sect Master's immortal envoy wore a completely expressionless face, as though the muscles on his visage only moved when he forced a smile or flared into anger, making him look just like a wooden puppet.

Qiao Lun found himself caught in a difficult dilemma for a moment, lacking any confidence at all. If the old elder failed to block the Master of Drunken Repose Peak, wouldn't he be killed on the spot?

Zhu Qingyi nodded. Naturally, she had also spotted that square cauldron and knew it was far from ordinary, but compared to the blood-soaked pistil, none of that mattered. After all, this concerned her very life.

Throughout this past month, Qin Yun had been meditating on various artistic sword realms and techniques within the Sword Pond's legacy space, deepening his comprehension with each passing day.

Jing Lin was still standing right there without leaving, examining the items sent over by Huang Di, when he suddenly felt a gentle stir in the air before him. A wisp of fierce wind struck him squarely in the chest, instantly rendering him completely immobile.

Zhang Yingxia had lost count of how many times he had sung this song in his past life. With all the vocal nuances and transitions—though not entirely flawless—there hadn't been any major mistakes either. Following Han Qin's corrections, after recording it three or four times, the final version was complete.

"Daoist arts are meant for self-protection, how can they be cast casually?" Wang Ping said. "The Immortal Elder gave strict instructions long ago that unless faced with an emergency, I must never display them to show off, otherwise my Daoist art would be revoked. I gave my word to that Immortal Elder, after all."

He no longer had the luxury of paying attention to Du Lei inside the interrogation room. What he needed to do right now was head to the infirmary to bandage his wounds, swallow a sleeping pill, and get a good night's rest.

The moment his backside hit the chair and before he could even pick up the menu, with a sharp *bang*, the luxurious carved wooden door of the private room was violently kicked open from the outside. Immediately following that, a squad of a dozen soldiers clad in uniform armor and wielding sharp blades burst into the room.