(139) Endure for a moment, and ovarian cysts; take a step back, and breast hyperplasia.

Liang Zuan: "……Oh, leveled up?!"

She had evolved into a flood dragon, now sporting little horns and tiny claws.

Looking at the young girl, he found her both adorably innocent and majestically imposing, yet...

He embarrassed himself and couldn’t continue.

His phoenix beak didn’t smile, but the muscles under his feathers twitched, and his phoenix eyes narrowed slightly.

He really wanted to laugh...

Suddenly, a scorching heat surged through his entire body, a burning sensation sweeping over him.

What if their informing angered the lord who had just entered the Blood Sky Valley? If that person vented their wrath on them, the city’s elders might not stand up for them. After all, they had not yet reached the realm of kings; to that lord, they were no more than ants.

Li Xiaoyao gazed at the dissipated thick mist, then glanced back. The original end of the immortal path had now merged with the land beneath his feet.

He stood and examined his body. Most of his wounds had healed, but a lingering weakness remained.

Duan Zhixuan stood there dumbfounded. Facing Yang Xiao’s question, he couldn’t utter a single word. Feng Yi’s battle was truly legendary—a lesson every strategist had to learn. The battle Yang Xiao described was undoubtedly the perfect embodiment of the strategy “to wait at ease while the enemy tires.”

However, in the end, all of Yang Xiao’s points were dismissed. Since there was no such thing as “tomorrow night begins,” when Yang Xiao said “starting tomorrow night,” it had to mean exactly that. If he said otherwise, it wouldn’t be proper. So, Yang Xiao cleverly sidestepped the issue.

The priest clasped her five fingers together, nodded, then tapped her left and right shoulders. The wedding had just begun. She looked at the brown wooden pillar, noting the time was precisely a quarter past eleven at night—just perfect, as if planned.

“Ahem... um, after all this fuss, I still don’t know who your husband is?” The head of the gang awkwardly said. Indeed, how could one confirm the truth without even knowing the husband’s name? At this point, some might ask: how could people living together not know each other?

“Yiyi, I’m downstairs at your place. I’m coming up now. Help me open the door.” Tang Nan dialed on his phone as he walked toward their stairwell.

Someone rang the doorbell outside. Luo Nanchu instinctively stood up, but just a step away, the phone on the sofa rang again. She reached for it hurriedly, anxious to open the door.

“Why do you let yourself suffer so much?” Su Qing leaned against the headboard, asking herself quietly. Why endure such misery and live under Ye Xuanli’s grim watch?

Training continued all day until dusk. Everyone else had left, but Qiao Ruoxin kept practicing.

Some villagers had even learned where Xiao Rui had purchased land and invited each other to see if they could lend a hand.

The imperial noble consort had difficulty bearing children. The title of Imperial Noble Consort Liu Ruoyue was stripped, demoted to Consort Liu, still residing in the Palace of Joy. From this day forth, the palace was sealed off; no one was allowed to enter or leave freely.

When Wei Yan was introduced, Zhuge Liang’s eyes narrowed slightly, about to speak, but Lin Yuan pulled him back abruptly.

The man looked up at her, his handsome features suffused with a faint laziness and roguish charm, smoke swirling around him.

The army of Zhong Zi’ang was composed entirely of forest outlaws, deeply aware of Xue Yi and Cui Pan’s strength, causing widespread unease.

Chen Yi’an complained, plucking a bamboo leaf and putting it in his mouth. The bitter taste instantly spread through his mouth.

Everyone else felt Jiang Man was terribly wronged. How could their boss act like this? It was utterly disrespectful.

Jiang Chao carefully observed Shi Li’s demeanor. Although Shi Li was impeccably proper, there was always an uneasy feeling about him. Jiang Chao had just interacted with Liu Yudong, and compared to Shi Li, the difference was glaring.

Back in the dormitory, Zhou An’an sat on the edge of the bed, reading responses to her questions on Zhihu. The image of Zhao Ke naturally appeared in her mind.