Twenty-One: The Actress

The gods pressed forward along their path, beholding before them the celestial ship, at whose heart rose a grand, radiant tower, soaring higher than a thousand stories, its brilliance flooding the air. A carpet of fresh blossoms unfurled in winding splendor, stretching all the way to the hundred carved jade steps at the tower’s base, winding upward and disappearing into its depths.

Ai Ling harbored deep resentment toward Li Xueyun; seducing the Western King was her rightful task, but what then, when it was done?

“You’re despicable! You tricked me... From now on, do as you please—I don’t care about you anymore!” Chu Qiao turned from Meng Yancheng’s gaze, speaking in wounded defiance.

The god Guang Qing, Su Bufou—who had nearly devoured her divine soul and left her for dead in the Labyrinth of Myriad Machines—now stood behind her, flanked by the three other gods who had once joined in attacking her.

“You brought me to this splendid place!” Ling Seye glanced at it, reaching for the sandalwood comb in her sleeve, only to find it missing.

Inside the most luxurious private room at the bar, Lei Ningqiu courteously invited Li Xiao and the men from Emperor Xiong’s faction to be seated. Yet Qing He stood behind Li Xiao with a stern face, ever watchful, while the three sisters composed themselves with graceful poise on the sofa.

He bowed his head slightly, lost in private thought, the faintest suggestion of a smile at his lips, his eyes brimming with laughter.

The flight to Vietnam dragged on interminably, and the time Li Xiao and Muscle Hui spent on the plane was pure torment.

“And who are you?” he asked in a low voice, barely managing to stand, determined not to let his opponent sense his weakness, though he could not help but clutch at his heart.

From the moment two armies faced each other, exchanging long-distance glances, or when an arrogant young lord bought his horse in passing—the memories lingered.

Before Chu Fei could devise a response, Ximen Han pressed once more, “Was it you who laid the trap at Hengshun yesterday?” As he spoke, his gaze grew more murderous.

Most people, when nervous, have the urge to use the restroom—before an exam, at the arena, and so on.

Zhang Nan’s luggage was so excessive it left Chen Runze ashamed. Every time they talked of going out, Chen Runze dreaded it more than anyone. But since nothing could be done, he resigned himself and loaded everything into the car.

During this period of hostile assault, Jiang Xia not only sensed ordinary force but also a special power—like electric current, causing her whole body to tingle with pain.

As Lü Lie spoke, he gently transferred the Source into Yao’s body. New vitality passed into Yao in this way.

Lin Dong entered the tent just in time to hear the complaint. Even the usually stern Lian let slip a hint of a smile—these fellows had such big hearts, still thinking of fine food at a time like this.

“Come on, boss, let’s both work hard and get Master Handsome drunk, drag him to the hotel, and have our way with him.” Xiao Mimi was clearly drunk, tugging Lan Youyou along to pour drinks for Chu Fei.

The zombie dogs controlled by the horned charm, upon receiving Lin Ying’s command, immediately began devouring the corpses of surrounding zombies with wild abandon.

That resounding slap fell as if upon every heart in the room, making each one spasm with pain.

At the same time, Han Tianzhu realized that no matter what he did to shout, the other three still could not hear him, and communication between them was nearly impossible.

In the past, his brothers, subordinates, friends, and even some elders had quietly departed from this world in order to protect his life.

“The Dark Guard was founded a thousand years ago by the then-head of the Ji family, Ji Zhantian, primarily to protect the clan’s secret realm and its mysteries,” Wu Zhengyang explained respectfully.

He lifted his head to gaze at the sky—a stretch of dull, gray haze, mirroring his mood. Turning back to the green barrier, he saw a black hole gaping like a wound from a giant sword, radiating the same lifeless despair.

This time, turmoil had broken out across the Desolate Star Domain: the Cao Family Army of Jimei Group was defeated by the Fengchuan Resistance, and the logistics line of the Estar Federation was cut off.

Chen Hongzhi was no slouch; if he were truly incompetent, he could never have become captain of the SWAT team.

Once accustomed to feasting, he now had to scrimp and save. When he finally managed to enter a restaurant after much trouble, the madam pleaded for mercy, then sold him a little at a high price.

As the sun sank in the west and twilight deepened, the stars had yet to emerge, but the mosquitoes arrived first, swirling half a foot above people’s heads, impossible to drive away no matter how they waved their arms.

An Liang drove, listening to his youngest sister’s animated storytelling with their parents—the whole family laughing merrily.

His golden eyes flickered idly, as though illusory sword-lights traced through the night air near Shi’s side.

“But isn’t Konohamaru the Third Hokage’s grandson? Everything he’s doing is unnecessary. As long as young master Konohamaru works hard to become a ninja, why insist that others call him Sarutobi Konohamaru?” Sarutobi Ming said, somewhat puzzled.

Such honors would already spark envy, but this year Qing Jinrong himself had invited them to the banquet—a mark not only of great honor, but of royal favor.

Both of them sensed someone in the room at once and dared not be careless. Instead of opening the door immediately, they raised their peachwood swords in front of their chests before slowly pushing the door open.

Enormous icicles fell in steady succession. With each that struck, Murong Qiqi’s arm bent a little further toward her.

The next day at noon, Qian Qian drove to the city center. Xue Jingchen, the wealthy young man, was staying at the best hotel in C City. She arrived at the appointed time and successfully picked him up.

Now, these demon beasts lay almost entirely dead or dying, and Qi Guodong stood twenty paces ahead of Cheng Yang, clutching the Black Wolf Blade, watching him with a chilling gaze.

Meng Yuejia was deeply unwilling, but she couldn’t think of a way to have it both ways. After several rounds of consideration—since the Interstellar Olympiad was a rare opportunity—she chose to abandon her campaign for parliament and instead applied for the Olympiad qualification.

At these words, both Xun Qiandu and Bai Wuchen’s eyes lit up at once. Bai Wuchen hurried to put Luo Wanyu back onto the bed.

“When?” Zitong’s eyes dimmed. Over the years, Cheng Yang had become ever more important to her, but she found him ever more preoccupied with cultivation and sect affairs, never giving their relationship its due. Even the marriage he once proposed had been postponed again and again.