Chapter 119: Lin Dongliang's Motive

Recently, Lin Changsheng had even gone so far as to publicly announce that the company’s old guard should do their utmost to support his son.

“Son-in-law, what are we going to do? It looks like that hundred million is lost! We came here for nothing, and those guys were really insufferable; they kicked me out,” Old Geng complained, slumping on the hotel sofa, venting all his frustrations about the trip and grumbling about those people.

Hunting for prey here was truly no easy task. Besides, everyone was dressed uniformly in long trousers.

The killing blow was still dealt with that familiar bone sword, not the Ice Sword. As he watched the bone sword fly back, then glanced at its owner—who now lay battered and scarred, eyes wide open in death—he shook his head.

Ling Cao shook his head. “Ji Zuo, styled Sunzi. Our rear ranks are already in chaos. We're always on the brink of close combat with the enemy. This isn’t something you can handle. The fact that you’re willing is enough for me.”

“Uh!” Zheng Huming was mid-sentence when he saw the expressions of those in the reception room. He paused, scanning the room, and when his gaze landed on Bing Fengmang, his brows furrowed. He could sense the formidable aura within this elderly man—a true master.

The youth had long, dark green hair, and his eyes were pitch black, gleaming with a peculiar, ominous light, like the vast, infinite universe beneath stormy skies.

Nesgu glanced at the waiter, as slow-witted as a pig, shook his head, and didn’t even bother to speak. Let him be.

After a week of steady sales, all the Chinese cabbages in Peach Blossom Spring were gone. The remaining fields were planted with tomatoes and large green chili peppers at various stages of growth—some already bearing their first ripe fruit, others mere seedlings, only an inch tall.

In the last train car, although Qiu Menghan had slipped free of the handcuffs, she kept her hands behind her back as if still bound. It was all a ploy to lower the vigilance of the advancing group.

At last, they were out of that damn orc kingdom. Marko was relieved—he had no wish to end up like Zha Ayin and Boya before him.

The body of the Immortal Lord Lin Yue was now in two pieces, his spirit utterly dispersed. In his dying struggle, he looked at the Ice Sword Immortal and realized her condition was far better than his own, deepening his confusion.

Of course, the strongest were still Qin Ling and Qin Nan, who had refined barbarian-grade bloodlines, making them exceptional.

To kill Yang Jinsong so brazenly before everyone—no wonder that elder had lost all reason in his fury.

Yan Mosheng strode forward and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, took Jiang Yuan’s hand.

No matter what Yan Mosheng said, Jiang Yuan gave no reply. She took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the storm of emotions within her. What could she say? What was left to say?

So this is the old wretch who’s my enemy, Meng Qianqian realized, her whole body trembling. With a shriek, she seized Cui Minglang’s foot and pushed, sending Cui’s father crashing to the floor.

When the eldest of the Ma family came down the mountain, it was a sign of extraordinary times. Everything would be turned on its head; drastic changes were inevitable.

Qin Feng sat cross-legged in the pool, a faint aura of blood spreading from him, pushing the water back by a foot. He took out the combat skill scroll of the Four Sacred Beasts Spiritual Art, focusing a thread of consciousness into it.

“We haven’t even graduated yet; recruitment within the sect is managed by the Discipline Hall and Martial Excellence Hall. We really have no say in this matter,” Nangong Yexuan refused again.

Perhaps because they didn’t know each other, Lin Zhirou felt no fear of being recognized, and thus chose to appear openly.

Liu Lian’er’s weeping was utterly heartrending, each word a cry of blood. Coupled with the innocence of her youth, it moved all who heard her—breaking hearts, bringing tears.

Du Po’s face twisted in fury. He realized that the formidable figure who’d suddenly appeared was nearly his equal in strength—especially when wielding the golden sword. In fact, this opponent was only a hair weaker, no different from the golden skeleton he’d faced before.