Chapter 117: The Mid-Level Islanders

Si Yao woke up once more in a dim basement. It was a mud-walled room just like the last, with a small ventilation window near the ceiling where the wall met the ground. A kerosene lamp sat on the floor, identical to the one before, yet this was not the same room. The previous one had been small; this one was far larger. What made it even more different was that she was bound.

Si Yao... His face was deathly pale, yet his smile was utterly innocent. He tilted his head, staring intently at the sword embedded in his chest and flank, watching the blood that snaked its way down the blade.

As Liu Tianqi was curiously examining the Eight-Trigrams Furnace, the chains binding Sun Wukong suddenly clattered and fell to the ground. Sun Wukong paused for a moment, but upon realizing he could move again, he joyfully stretched his limbs.

A faint smile remained on Wang Hong’s handsome face. His gaze was so serene and his expression so relaxed that one could truly detect nothing amiss.

As Jiang Chengce turned to leave, Scarface had the intention of picking up the double-barreled shotgun abandoned on the ground to shoot Jiang in the back. But as soon as he raised his hand, the red dot of a sniper’s laser sight landed on his hand, scaring him into pulling it back in a hurry.

The man, however, was quite dissatisfied, his reluctance plain on his face. Although his wounds had improved, he still refused to walk, shouting angrily at Murong Qingran, "What if you drove the carriage in? Is there anyone here who would eat you?"

Ye Luoqing’s feet touched the ground. Looking at the corpses strewn across the floor, she sighed and sheathed her twin blades.

At this moment, Jiang Chengce was naturally terrified, but he could only force a smile at Zhang Mengxi, for Nangong Yu was still glaring at him viciously.

Unify the world? Ha, she had no interest in such pointless endeavors. All she wanted was to enjoy life—to enjoy a peaceful life.

The court officials vied to toast Beiming Hanxuan. Unable to refuse, he drank too much. His already wickedly handsome face became flushed with a seductive, faint red, making him appear even more striking.

Among the group, a few of the men in black were somewhat unwilling, but they had no choice but to suppress their feelings. Who wouldn't want to climb higher? Who wouldn't want to be second only to one and above ten thousand? Yet, with such a formidable sect leader, what could they possibly say?

This old man was Ouyang Xiameo, one of the elders of the Maoshan Sect. He held the rank of Celestial Master; though no one had seen him take action in a long time, many felt a sense of danger radiating from him.

"Enough talk, let’s go see what kind of ghost this is." After saying this, Wang Zhenyu began to walk forward, but after two steps, she noticed Qin Hu was not following. She turned her head in confusion, only to see a long sword held against Qin Hu’s throat, with a sneering face emerging from behind him.

It was at this moment that I finally saw Zun’s lips move slightly. Then, the old tree demon propped Zun’s body into a sitting position and placed his hands against Zun’s back, as if channeling some form of internal energy into him.

What startled Xia Donglai was that a trace of killing intent was hidden within the gaze of Ye Hao.

"Very well, I will tell you exactly what happened..." the doctor said after a moment of reflection.

It was an exceedingly magnificent and verdant green mountain, upon which a massive body occupied the entire expanse of the peak.

He could be angry if he wanted to, but she did not remember him. For him to insist that she had liked him in the past—was he trying to force her to like him immediately?

Zhou Yuying went to pour water, while the others kept their eyes on Tang Hao, waiting for him to begin his story.

Unfortunately for his opponent, the young man he was betting against was named Ye Hao, a cultivator in the city. The true power of a cultivator lies in the ability to create miracles.