(138) Today Is a Good Day—May All Your Wishes Come True

Liu Yi did not want Xiao Feng to see the injuries covering her body; unable to run, she rolled into the spiritual spring to soak. Only now, having finished her tasks, did she notice that the small pool had expanded to a diameter of about one meter.

Wait, why did the spring water seem to have a fragrance? It was like the scent of flowers, yet not quite; the aroma drifted into her lungs with every breath, invigorating her spirit instantly. Had this been before the apocalypse, she surely would have shrieked in astonishment, but now, she remained as calm as could be.

If one is to die either way, whether fighting or not, it is better to die with some backbone and integrity than to perish like a coward.

Seeing Ma Xiaochuan lower his head, Zhang Tianhao’s tense nerves relaxed slightly, causing the corner of his eye to twitch involuntarily. This girl—I always thought she was the quiet, gentle type; I never expected her to be so feisty. I didn't sense it during our previous encounters—could my judgment of people be that flawed?

"If the exact location of the Death Temple is not here, then where is it?" Ye Zun asked curiously.

All good things must come to an end. After a farewell drink, Ye Zun left Sword City. He departed having gained a great deal during his five months there, not only elevating his strength from the peak of the Seventh-Rank Sword Emperor to the peak of the Ninth-Rank, but also mastering the Soul-Sucking Slash and obtaining a surge of power that would aid his future breakthrough to the realm of the Sword Venerable.

Even while wearing a mask, Bai Ye’s identity was fully exposed the moment he struck, triggering a wave of heated discussion among the spectators.

At the Yufeng Building on Earth, Leng Ling, Long Jiu, and Feng Xiaoshan watched the battle from the same omnidirectional perspective as the Demon Emperor Yu Luo.

"Is there something you need?" a burly old man approached, holding a horsewhip in his hand.

"We don't have any credits on us right now, and boarding the airship to City 18 without a ticket is simply impossible..." As he spoke, You Lianpu's eyes were heavy with concern; in truth, he had pondered this problem many times along the way.

Zheng Qiusheng smiled wordlessly at this. Ye Zun was not someone he had brought along, but rather someone he had met mid-journey. However, Zheng Qiusheng did not say much; although Ye Zun was standing with him for now, he knew that once the treasures flowed out from the River of Death, Ye Zun would undoubtedly compete for them and would not help the Zheng family for his sake.

As this thought crossed his mind, the Ghost-Faced Taoist immediately felt the situation was familiar—it was exactly what he had experienced in the subterranean Grotto Kingdom. Even the smell of sulfur was the same. In that case, what was happening now might not be an earthquake after all, but a volcanic eruption.

"My King, how could I do such a thing? Have you perhaps misunderstood me?" Ji Xue looked up at the Nine-Headed King and asked.

"No more chatting, I have to go to class!" the bespectacled teacher said, hurrying away from the office toward the classroom.

Since Tu Xingsun had left that night, he had not returned. Deng Jiugong was burning with anxiety and had dispatched over a hundred scouts to search for him, but none had brought back any news.

"Your Majesty, according to my investigations over the past few days, the people in Ling'an City are simple and honest, living in peace and contentment. I have come today to report these findings to Your Majesty." A minister who had been sent to investigate the public sentiment stepped forward, bowed, and reported his findings to Chen Xuan.

The volatility here is so great, and the waters are so deep; winning once is just a fluke. What if I lose? Wouldn't that lead to total ruin?

The Grave Robbing Captains Ye Buyan and Xun Buhuan gradually sensed that something was wrong. The five Zhao brothers were terrifyingly strong, especially the eldest and the second, who finished off two inspectors in a matter of seconds, turning the once-arrogant young man into a corpse under their staves in the blink of an eye.

By now, the Ghost-Faced Taoist had extinguished his torch. He used a fluorite to light his way, holding his Dragon-Cry Blade horizontally, fully alert to any dangers lurking in the darkness ahead.

At that moment, Ding Tingyue discovered that the entire Jinshan Temple had taken flight, soaring so high that the white clouds of the firmament looked like mere wisps of smoke on the ground.