Chapter 107: The Origin of Mystic Sword City

Ling Ru’s voice sounded from the communication talisman once more. Ji Yao beamed, answered with a cheerful assent, and instead of returning to Tianlv Peak, she headed straight down the mountain toward Xuanjian City, the marketplace of the Lingyun Sect.

Entering the Sect Affairs Hall at the main peak of the Lingyun Sect, Ji Yao was in no hurry to submit her mission. Her own identity jade token already held five hundred contribution points, an incentive prize awarded to the top sixteen participants during the previous sect grand tournament.

The mission for the Law Enforcement Hall in the Qixian Secret Realm also carried a corresponding reward.

"Thank you for your concern, Uncle, Aunt. My injuries are nearly healed, and I should be able to be discharged in two or three days." Su Nuan’s smile was faint; it remained polite but held a subtle detachment—she could never bring herself to be close to such insufferable relatives.

First and foremost, Yi Shuihan’s acting prowess was beyond doubt; even within the entire entertainment industry, few could be found who possessed talent exceeding his.

"Don’t you have a wife? Why are you still chasing after her!" Ye Anyang shouted into the phone, though unfortunately, A-Niu could not hear her.

He spent every day thinking of her now, struggling to control himself. In his eyes, Shunzi was as unique as the full moon in the sky, a presence he could not avoid.

Yan Jun looked at her reflection and felt like crying. She thought that if her confidence were trampled upon once more, she would never be able to piece it back together.

Just as Yi Shuihan was about to pick up a slice of potato, more children stood up and placed the potatoes from their own bowls into his.

However, the team did not stop; they continued marching forward. After traveling about two or three miles, someone called out for them to halt. Fei’er stepped out of the vehicle and saw that before her lay another paradise, much like Wushan Abode.

She returned in low spirits, only to bump into a servant helping He Man choose a room in the building, accompanied by two soldiers. There were many vacant rooms these days, but He Man chose the one next to Xie Yujiao’s without a second thought, right on the path that Zhenrong had to take.

Zhang Yu rushed in, and upon closer inspection, he saw Zhang Chong being held hostage by Su Bai with a dagger. He was instantly enraged; someone actually dared to hold a deputy company commander of the armed police hostage inside the training base.

Su Bai dodged Li Er’s attacks while using his long spear to repeatedly pierce Li Er’s kneecaps, throwing lightning orbs at his chest and head from time to time.

After gathering several bottles and jars along with Nangong Han, he stuffed them all into his sleeves, which was also an excellent way to ensure his own safety.

"Here, try this. It’s our Northern Underworld fire-pot skewers." Wei Xueying took two steaming skewers from the burly man selling them and handed them to Xu Changfeng.

After speaking, Qiao Mushan withdrew his gaze, ignoring Nangong Han, and picked up the cotton bandage on the table to wrap his hand. Even without Nangong Han’s explanation, he knew exactly what was going on; it was obvious enough.

I looked at the letter in my hand, feeling thoroughly bewildered. What exactly did Old Man Li want to convey to me? The second sheet of paper bore today’s date, but what was the meaning behind the two lines of poetry at the beginning of the third?

I looked up and my scalp went numb; a massive, greasy white face was floating in mid-air. Under the moonlight, it looked sinister beyond measure.

Lijia was running a high fever, muttering nonsense in her sleep. After two days of turmoil, Qi Congwen’s face was dark even while attending court. He was aware of the disturbances in the outside world, but he did not intervene; at the moment, nothing was more important than Lijia’s health.

After Captain Wang left, I checked on Chen Lin. I figured my Pure Yang Talisman must have had some effect, as the flames on Chen Lin’s shoulders had ignited once more. Although the flames were weak, it was still better than having them extinguished.

Hearing this, the Eight-Winged Black Serpent King’s triangular pupils shifted. A flicker of shrewdness flashed in its sharp eyes; it realized what Green Python was trying to express and realized it had made the same mistake, assuming Xiao Feng was a scion of some great power.

Wait, her own backyard—the most prestigious Century Park in A City, a place where it was said even provincial leaders were refused when they asked to stay a night—could it be that it belonged to her Chenchen?