Chapter Ninety-One: The Daoist Awaits

We were utterly shocked.

Fatty Zuo shouted, “Lu Xiaoxiao!”

Before the words had even left his mouth, Lu Xiaoxiao had already been swallowed whole by the Yang King Turtle. The Yang King Turtle smacked its lips with satisfaction.

The Big Monk burst into wild laughter.

Fatty Zuo lost his mind, his face twisted with rage. He flipped the dagger in his hand and swiftly pressed it to his brow, intent on bursting his brow’s furious blood.

...

At this moment, Gao Jingzong was nearly exhausted, his mind barely conscious as he agreed to Feng Lei’s request. Feng Lei immediately gathered all cavalrymen from the various prefectures, amassing over fifteen hundred riders. They traveled light and fast, rushing directly to attack Fuli City.

Faced with this situation, Ran Yu chose the safest route: advancing and retreating alongside Gao Jingzong, thereby preventing internal splits within the Northern Prefecture Army.

Those who had intended to leave suddenly seemed electrified, turning back with excitement to gaze at the original stone.

Tang Ruyan leaned against the doorframe. Jiang Ruixuan’s cold sneer pierced her heart like a sharp blade. The intensity of love and hate left her drained of all strength.

Of course, the father and son weren’t entirely clueless. Since they didn’t know when they’d next see Fang Jie, most of their curses simmered in their stomachs, mixed with spicy oil.

“And another thing—I don’t want tonight’s events to reach a third person.” Jin Shanshan tried to rise, but He Yaozu stopped him and spoke with a calm voice.

In contrast, Old Lady Fang and Master Fang’s expressions grew grim. Their chopsticks stirred the rice but refused to touch the dishes.

“Hehe, since the sect master has agreed, I’ll take him with me on my return. Once you and Xuanming have set the date for action, I’ll come back to help you. But for now…” Yin Jiuxiao couldn’t help but step close, leaping lightly into Qin Motian’s arms and showering him with wild kisses.

She took out her phone, pretending to take photos, but her real target was the fake mountain. When the camera caught a specific scene, she immediately sneered, her suspicions confirmed.

The question had barely been asked when Tang Xuanli began to complain, “Vivi, you’re too much! I just gave you a duck leg, but you won’t give me any of this beef!” Tang Xuanli couldn’t recall the name of the steak-like dish, but he knew it was beef.

From the wedding scene, this was clearly not the work of a criminal organization. It looked far more like a grand state event.

“No, we have to find a way to muddle through!” Yang Ze’s eyes darted, and suddenly he had an idea.

A clear shout rang out, and in the next instant, the room’s darkness split open. Before Wang Yue appeared an uncanny painting of a beauty. The painting was bizarrely vivid; one could almost see the beauty seductively posing, as if enticing and tempting Wang Yue.

Wu Yiting sat in her office like a cold, unmoving mummy, her sharp gaze scrutinizing Ouyang Yunduo’s expression.

Noticing Long Diao’s awareness, Zhao Lingxi did not linger. She withdrew her gaze, and now it was Long Diao’s turn to study Zhao Lingxi with a shifting, uncertain expression.

This stone pillar, unlike the others that housed countless dormant, unyielding sleepers, was packed much denser—just by sight, it held at least five times the capacity of the others.

The only regret was failing to break through the mid-stage innate realm. Since things had come to this, he would have to find his own way forward.

The guards in charge of security, hearing the commotion outside, lit torches to investigate. The flames made them easy targets, and they suffered fierce, direct attacks from powerful crossbows.

In fact, for anyone who died in the camp, whether their body was recovered or not, Granny Zhang always conducted a full funeral service according to the faith’s rites. This wasn’t done to win favor—it was simply a matter of conviction.