Chapter 51: The Wheels of Fate Are Turning

After the livestream ended, all the teachers joined forces to drive the students away, their faces eager and hands rubbing together in anticipation.

“Jiang Wangshu, you’re truly incredible! To know so many hidden techniques is extraordinary.”

“Indeed! These tricks for instant-casting spells and stacking arrays—each one is worthy of being a family’s closely guarded secret.”

Their eyes gleamed with excitement. “Might we be so fortunate as to glimpse your book of arrays?”

“We’d like to see your spellbook.”

On the Blackwater River, a blood-red sword of light darted about, occasionally trailing clouds of crimson mist. More than a thousand cultivators surrounded it, their regret so bitter it gnawed at their very souls. If only they’d known better—why provoke Mo Fan, a harbinger of disaster?

“Doctor, but the specialist from Shenzhen says her heart is failing. Will a lung transplant really help?” Anxiety gnawed at me.

“What!? Chen Bichi and Chen Bilian? How did you end up with them? Absolutely not—you can associate with anyone, but those sisters are off limits. You may not know, but they’re not good people. They definitely have an agenda!” Shocked again, I hurriedly warned, my tone brooking no argument.

The scene sent the demon spirit into a fury, roaring as it chased after Mo Fan. At the same time, the two closest vengeful spirits dissolved into black mist and merged with its body. The wound in its chest began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.

My data suddenly froze halfway through, and I realized my phone bill was overdue. Now I was in dire straits, not even able to pay for my phone.

The black longsword flickered with cold light, the qilin’s scale at the hilt forming a crescent moon, while black-purple cracks shimmered along the blade. I frowned. While the Weapon Ranking isn’t as prestigious as the Divine Weapon Ranking, being second place means it must at least be of the Phantom Spirit grade.

Half the Crimson Serpent Demon Blood from North Ru Residence could be used by both direct and collateral disciples, with some left over. Though this wouldn’t change the residence’s fate dramatically, the overall enhancement would be quite significant.

The two giants wore simple leather pants and crossed straps across their chests. Their heads were bare, two round, bald domes. The aura they exuded was even stronger than that of Qing Shishan.

Yet, he suddenly prospered, and from then on, his ascent was unstoppable. In just a few short years, he achieved what most people couldn’t accomplish in a hundred, even a thousand years.

“A Douzun-level expert, terrifying as always.” His friend thought he was exaggerating, and after the cabbie’s frantic explanation, realized his friend didn’t believe him at all. He gave up trying to explain.

Changqing may have spoken as such, but it was clear he was very pleased with Chu Mo, and was determined to have him.

Mother must have been deeply wounded to finally decide to fight back. In this palace, where mercy is devoured, anything is possible except affection.

Shi Qinghuan nodded repeatedly, grateful for how thoughtfully Mu Jiusheng considered her needs.

Now, having witnessed it firsthand, he felt the terror of that energy surge. The phenomenon was so formidable, it seemed capable of obliterating all laws.

They resembled deer in size, but their backs were studded with bone spurs, their limbs thick and powerful, with tusks protruding from their mouths.

“...” Ling Yu was speechless, rolling his eyes again and again. This fellow still brooded over the matter of the Heavenly Wind Hall.

Earlier, others hadn’t noticed, but the instant Emperor Nine met her gaze, a flash of murderous intent flickered in his eyes—truly terrifying.

“I—I don’t know either!” Lin Yue Ru shook her head, wincing as Gao Mingyuan squeezed her hand.

They ventured deeper, and as they walked, Mosaic suddenly stopped, a look of suspicion on his face. He crouched, his rear raised high, and began digging furiously at the dirt.

Gan Qingsi knew she had a close cousin. That was Gan Xin’s lifelong regret twenty-five years ago; he lost his dearest loved ones on the same day. His wife and son left him, separated by fate. To this day, Gan Xin has never given up searching for his son’s whereabouts, but the child vanished as if swallowed by the earth, never to be heard from again.