Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Helplessness of Vashak, the Star Demon God

Bai Nianxuan’s heart tightened with anxiety; she hadn’t expected the Demon Emperor Feng Xiu’s powers of perception to be so formidable. Panic welled up inside her. She feared that the Demon Emperor might turn his sword on her at any moment—she knew she would not be able to evade it.

“No need to be nervous,” he said. “I simply find it amusing.” The Demon Emperor’s voice was calm and indifferent. “It will be a century before you come into your own. By then, it’s likely you and A-Bao will be at odds.”

Petroleum, called ointment in later generations, was already used as a strategic resource for defending cities in this era. Dongfang Shuo had some of it, though not much. Fortunately, the siege engines constructed by Songruo Zan’s forces had been built in haste and were unlikely to require large quantities.

At this moment, Zhang Hao was uncertain whether the Human Emperor would agree with his reasoning. Yet, with things having come to this pass, his only choice was to strike while the iron was hot and provoke the Death Emperor—either to enrage him or to nudge him, for the sake of Nangu, into letting Zhang Hao depart.

If things went poorly, all his efforts during this time would have been for nothing, washed away in an instant.

This time, An’er did not give chase. The proud princess had always been accustomed to the protection of her knights—how could she bear the arrogance of the Black Knight? To follow after him would seem beneath her dignity, something An’er could never accept. A princess ought to have the dignity befitting her station; no matter how outstanding the Black Knight might be, she must remain reserved.

Sang Hongyang’s proposal to the court to officially establish the night market had brought it onto the stage of history. More than that, Sang Hongyang was even more radical, seeking the emperor’s approval for the night market to be permanently open.

With trembling hands, she reached out, wide-eyed, and slowly, ever so slowly, she grasped the writhing insect twisting in the air. Her grip tightened, and tightened, and tightened further.

At dusk, Huo Qubing finally returned from Weiyang Palace. Huo Guang’s first act was to tell him of the friction that had arisen between himself and Sang Hongyang that day.

Caiyi was stifled with frustration. She had a hunch that Qingyi would not remain long in the palace, but she could not refute Xiaohua’s words.

It seemed the enemy was not yet willing to surrender; their weapons were still raised, brandished high, signaling their masters’ indecision—whether to fight or yield.

Zhang Hao did not know that the Death Emperor’s behavior that day was entirely because the emperor was wary—wary of the Endless Staff in Zhang Hao’s hand and the holy aura emanating from the Ninefold Lotus of Purity within his body.

“Miaomiao, keep an eye on our luggage. I’ll go buy pancakes for Haozi,” Ling Xihan said, setting the luggage beside Miaomiao before heading to the pancake stall across the street to buy a set.

The village was small, with only about a hundred households, built along the mountainside in a narrow stretch. The houses were scattered, with plenty of space between them. Wealthier families built courtyards of brick, while those of modest means gathered stones from the mountain’s foot to mark out simple enclosures.

Shen Jiying’s gaze darkened. He lowered his head and kissed her soft lips, nothing like Song Feiyi’s gentle, fleeting touch.

As the people of the Heavenly Serpent Sect dispersed into the forest, a sudden storm of wind-cutting sounds erupted. Countless arrows, glinting with cold light and fierce force, shot forth in a sweeping barrage. Even Elder Qing had to slow, his body flickering as he dodged the deadly rain of arrows.

At last, the buzzing quieted. The contestants’ attention returned to the projection screen at the far end of the training room.

Chengtian Public Fund had invested heavily in it, but there were now significant limits to the further appreciation of Jiunan Medical Group.

Before One Autumn Leaf stood a circular rippling sword wave and a rending slash, like pincers closing in from both sides, blocking every possible route. No matter which way he broke through, before he could reach his teammate, he would have to take a heavy blow—and, inevitably, be stunned for a moment under the assault.