Volume One, Chapter 27: Preparing to Synthesize the Myriad Demon Fruit

“Grandpa, don’t wander off. Let’s see where they intend to take us,” Montage said, trying to comfort the Ginseng Spirit.

“Alright,” the Ginseng Spirit replied, seeing Montage so earnest. He walked over to stand by Montage, intending to go with him.

At that moment, a guard approached and casually locked a pair of restraining handcuffs around him. The instant the cuffs snapped shut, the Ginseng Spirit’s form changed dramatically—his fur turned into roots, and his skin became black.

With a soft thud, a piece of black ginseng, the size of an infant, fell to the ground.

“Is this... ginseng?” Sun Dehong was momentarily stunned, then delight lit up his eyes. Ever since the world’s spiritual energy had revived, the land had changed; many things were no longer as they had been...

Gongsun Yuyan’s face was twisted with pain and despair. She bit down hard on her lips; the searing pain snapped her back to clarity. Uncaring of the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her gaze grew resolute.

“What the hell is that technique?” At this moment, Shennong Quan had quietly come to Fu Daolin’s side, so startled he blurted out a curse.

Whoever managed a hundred consecutive victories in the arena would be titled the King of Gladiators, and their appearance fee would be much higher. Yet, no one had ever achieved a hundred straight wins. Of course, this title only applied to the King of Gladiators within their own rank, meaning all matches were fought against opponents of the same level.

“This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s leave first!” Wu Yue said, and, taking Shennong Wentian’s arm, prepared to go.

Old Liu from logistics had long since prepared everything for Xiao Fei—the right height, waist size, and shirt model. Chen Yige had already told Old Liu all the details. So, when Chen Jialin and Xiao Fei arrived, they could simply collect their military uniforms.

Beams of light pierced through wall after wall, leaving splatters of blood behind.

If one wished to make the Dragon Souls submit, even tame them, one must never tamper with the dragon bones.

Yet, such things are easier said than done. Chu Nan himself was far from certain.

“He’s the chosen one, but so am I! Leave this to me.” Wang Polu picked up the paper and strode away.

She had undergone thorough “hands-on” training under Director Jiang and was familiar with terms like “shooting” and other slang, even “riding horses” and “flying planes.” That’s why she scolded with a smile.

Duan Zhimin explained with a smile to Zhou Zhiming. As Zhou Zhiming’s face grew darker by the moment, Duan’s heart skipped a beat, yet he insisted on finishing the story.

Ma stayed behind in the capital to assist with governance. Later, to repay Ruan Dacheng, Ma Shiying recommended him for an official position, which provoked fierce opposition from the other ministers.

They were completely unaware that their idol, Princess Tsunade—the very heroine they followed devoutly in the original story—had already fallen into a man’s arms and, helplessly, become his slave.

Without the protective talisman, they might be able to enter the ancient battlefield, but the spiritual shock inside would likely be fatal.

Just now, Fubo had said something seemed off, and his men had vanished. This made Chen Teng instantly alert.

Duan Muqingci had spoken truly—having no desire means having no demands; with desire comes attachment; but if one achieves a state of desirelessness, there is neither holding on nor letting go. She truly wished the best for Yi Han, yet her own desires left her troubled and melancholic. To be calm and even-tempered was easier said than done.

The scene was bustling; craftsmen hurried to and fro, not noticing the two who had slipped inside. Wang Tianxiang pushed a wheelbarrow of mud past, nearly crashing into them.

Yi Han sensed her tone was unfriendly, so he forced a dry smile and fell silent, quietly watching.

More and more aberrations howled and charged about wildly, even attacking their own kind.

“Indeed, Your Highness has already given her heart to another, so please, Third Prince, seek happiness elsewhere,” Chu Yue said without reservation.

“I’ll go in person and ask. Let’s see if he’ll refuse me.” With those words, Chu Yue signaled Shi Qing, who immediately prepared the silver. They were ready to head to the Jiang residence.

Guan Zhaojian’s grip on her shoulder tightened, making Lu Yanyan feel as if her bones might shatter under his increasingly frosty stare.

“Speak—where are the three hundred thousand taels of stolen silver and the deeds to twenty-eight shops and houses?” Wen Yinghan, escorted by guards, approached Hong Daguang, gently rubbing her knuckles as she raised her eyes to question him unhurriedly.

Naturally, everyone replied that they liked it. If anyone dared say otherwise, the old man might conveniently “forget” to let them leave after class—who could they complain to then?

Wu Liu dragged a chair to the center of the shop. Guan Zhaojian sat down first, then forcefully pulled Lu Yanyan onto his lap.

When we are young, we see our parents as the greatest heroes in the world, idolizing and relying on them. But as time passes and we experience more, we gradually realize our parents’ ordinariness, and their constraints begin to chafe.

Guan Zhaojian’s eyes narrowed, his already brooding gaze on Lu Yanyan now turning even more chilling.

As long as Changliao can keep pace with Feiyue and avoid being overtaken by the similar products from New Sina or Penguin, the longer it lasts, the more valuable it becomes. Eventually, the internet giants who don’t want to fall behind will have no choice but to pay a hefty price to acquire it—especially New Sina.

“That’s hard to say, but with his inner energy protecting him, he’s unlikely to die easily,” answered the imperial physician.

This family banquet was to celebrate the old master’s birthday. In his youth, the old master had served as the national adviser to the Xuanlong Kingdom, so naturally, many officials’ children were invited. As the eldest legitimate son, Su Nan was, of course, expected to attend.

Yang Lin wrapped her arms around He Qingyang’s, and together they opened the door and followed the so-called “master” inside.

Just as Zhao Yufen was growing frantic, the police arrived at her door. When she saw them, her expression flickered strangely, but only for a split second before she regained her composure.

Though this “master” was a bit of a charlatan, he could still sense the oppressive cold growing stronger the deeper they went.

Hearing everyone’s compliments, Du Shiyun finally smiled. Looking in the mirror, she was startled—almost doubting the image was really herself. This dress truly was beautiful.

“Zhao Qing, you’d best give me an explanation for what happened yesterday, or else our marriage ends here and now.” Du Ming’s words truly frightened Zhao Qing. She had never expected that Du Ming would threaten her with divorce. Clearly, what happened yesterday was even more serious than she’d thought.