Chapter 101: How many lovely women fall for scoundrels, and how many scoundrels fail to cherish them

“So you’ve set your sights on Lu Feng?”
“That’s right. My friend told me that Lu Feng is the chairman of Vast Horizons. He’s quite handsome, looks dependable, so I thought he’d make a good partner.”
Dependable?
That word, used to describe Lu Feng, was certainly a novelty.
When the ointment touched the deeper wound, Lian Youyou’s face twisted in pain with a soft whimper.
“Does it hurt a lot? I’ll be gentler, I promise!”
Qiao Jing had been pampered since childhood, always surrounded by servants tending to her every need. She had never dressed someone else’s wounds before, and her hands were clumsy and unsure.
Once the medicine was applied, winding the gauze was much easier. Qiao Jing helped Lian Youyou hold the bandage in place as she began to...
The night was deep and still. Outside the window, the sky was a clear, inky blue. Twenty-four moons waxed and waned in their own cycles, each following its own path, revolving within the fate it was given.
His startled outcry instantly drew everyone’s attention. Luo Kun frowned in displeasure and turned to look at Li Ning.
Now, every city under the control of the Star Soul Sect had teleportation arrays. The journey from Rift Valley City to Clear Water City took but the blink of an eye, hardly consuming any time at all.
Furthermore, as the day of the duel approached, and still there was no sign of Jiang Yi, it was little wonder patience was wearing thin.
In winter, the scent of plum blossoms filled the air. The view from the window was picturesque; the garden was peaceful, tinged with a hint of melancholy and helplessness.
Though the Black Profound Gate had fallen on hard times, its deep foundations remained. Beyond its Starforge Battlefield, which contained a fragment of the Celestial Star God’s ruin, there were many secret demonic texts and divine laws—treasures that many coveted, including the legendary Heaven-Shrouding Demon Art.
After hunger and thirst were sated, Li Ning’s mind gradually cleared. He slung his broadsword over his shoulder and strode toward the temple, his eyes brimming with contempt. He looked coldly at the setting sun, and with equal disdain at the temple.
When a few team members reported their achievements, Yu Yuyao offered little comment. She merely instructed her maid, Yu Ou, to record everything as future proof of merit.
The river surged, and the owner of those eyes darted toward him. Li Ning was caught off guard. The owner pounced, wrapping their entire body around him.
Chen Hao replied in the affirmative, then turned around, eyes fixed intently on the great cauldron as he slowly approached.
With both hands pulling back and forth, although the mysterious energy was gone, Xuan Yue still relied on the essence of Tai Chi to control the flow, preventing the fortune-telling power from reaching its full potential. During each exchange, she counterattacked relentlessly—never missing a chance to strike.
Meanwhile, from the gaping maw of the gray-white serpent, circles and streaks of mysterious, profound energy unfurled, condensing into a terrifyingly powerful gray orb.
The Shadow Emperor, after all, was a normal man. Though he had exercised restraint for a century, he could not quell the caged beast in his heart. With a twist of his palms, Linlang was pinned to the bed. Her dark hair shimmered against the crimson quilt, half her gown torn away, revealing a blossom not yet fully in bloom.
My family’s patriarch wields considerable influence; even the Central Special Investigations Bureau was once staffed by his former subordinates. Preventing something like this from happening would be as simple as giving the word.
“Why are you doing this… Why! Everything was my doing, my son had nothing to do with it… If they all die, I will haunt you even in death!” Left Yuan Kui screamed, his voice hoarse and broken.
Ghostwood’s bodily technique was unparalleled, his ability to mask his presence even more so. In the past two years, he’d made frequent trips to the back mountain to hunt snow wolves for a feast—a wise choice, as their meat was far tastier than that of pythons.
When Ye Jiarou called Ye Chu’s name, she cast a wounded look in Ye Chu’s direction, her words laced with blame.
“Would you like something to eat? I know a good Chinese restaurant nearby.” Attila, seldom one to invite others to a meal, extended a rare invitation.
Wang Heming bowed solemnly and reported, “Commander, the enemy artillery outside the city is relentless. Worse still, that white-bearded old man not only urges his men to attack with fury, but also has great numbers of troops hauling timber and earth, building towers side by side as if they intend to stay for good!”