Chapter Thirty-Five: What Does It All Mean?

"Don't... touch me!" Wen Changning struggled to raise her hand in protest, her voice hoarse and broken like a rusted bell.

She forced herself to endure the burning agony, sitting cross-legged and attempting to channel her inner energy to suppress it. Yet the searing pain clung to her like a parasite gnawing at her bones, relentlessly invading her meridians. Wherever her internal force reached, it felt as if scalding oil was poured over, intensifying her suffering.

Her consciousness began to blur, darkness flickering before her eyes. In her ears, Qiuqiu and Erxia were calling out to her through sobs, mingling with the anguished groans echoing through the mortuary.

I waited for you to discover it yourself, to find a reason to convince me. Otherwise, how could I... how could I ever forgive you?

If only I'd thought to ask about the mission myself. It's been so long since I last took one, and now I just rushed in, eager and unprepared.

To prove she wasn't as the rumors claimed? Or was it that secret yearning, inexplicable, hidden deep in her heart?

Zhen Rou rested her hands flat on her knees, her body still leaning against the carriage wall, letting herself sway with every bump in the road.

"If fighting breaks out, don't worry about me—leave first," Feng Qi said quietly, gripping his long sword tightly.

I remember, after saying those words, she was completely stunned. I couldn't help but worry whether she'd suspect I was possessed by some sinister spirit, and demand a shaman to exorcise me—although Bai Fengjiao truly was possessed, but not by anything evil.

Even if Dragon Gate poured vast resources into training masters of formations, it would still take time. From realizing the need to act, it wouldn't yield results in just three or four months.

But just as she stirred, ready to rise, the nearby Shangguan Xiu—who had slept all night—suddenly awoke.

"That's right! The imperial will cannot be defied, but..." Shen Qi only finished half his sentence, then, under Shangguan Yunling's subtle glance, cupped his hands and retreated. Within a few steps, he vanished from the prow.

"Is he talking about Xiao Yunshu of Phoenix Mountain, north of the city?" The old imperial physician, prepared to accept his fate, suddenly turned his head at the mention of Xiao Yunshu.

A terrifying surge of blood energy and spiritual power erupted from this ancestral being, enveloping the entire sky.

"What exactly are you?" The monk, both puzzled and furious, clutched his aching belly where he'd been kicked.

The question Young Master Qiu posed was not just for Jade Lady; everyone in the First Pavilion was equally baffled.

A corrosive sound came, and Luo Tian suddenly felt as if countless worms gnawed at the depths of his soul. The wrenching pain was unbearable, even for a ghost without flesh or blood.

Everyone understood there were boundaries that must not be crossed, yet lately Chu Wuming had boldly stepped over them—so openly that the main generals of the Wei Yuan Army were both shocked and outraged at his audacity.

Only now did Yuexin realize Zhen Ye was nestled inside her collar, at her neck. Her face flushed, embarrassed beyond measure.

Standing alone at the front, Lin Baisui was the first to break through the encirclement, sprinting across the bridge toward the seventh passage.

Qin Feng now had a new identity and naturally couldn't interfere. If suspicion was aroused, all his efforts would be wasted.

Indeed, this was Shang Chen's request—to make the appearance of the artificial intelligence resemble the dragon totem of Earth's Huaxia.

A domineering aura swept forth, filling the world with calm yet murderous intent.

Last time my elder brother came, it wasn't nearly so tense. After all, he was a peer, but now, seated ahead, were both my grandfather and uncle.

Having finished a simple meal of sweet potato porridge and boiled eggs, Zeng Jihong lay groggy on a cool mat, resting his head on a cushion and fanning himself with a large palm fan—afternoon nap.

A soft laugh sounded nearby, and she turned to look. The youth tilted his head, smiling at her. He was handsome, his hair wrapped in the square scarf worn by Han commoners. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but the subtle patterns in his clothing's fabric revealed that his origins were far from ordinary.