095, The Celebration Banquet II

Hearing the voice, Lin Mi turned her head, her gaze falling on the wine bottle nearby. She shook her head firmly.
“It wasn’t me who ordered it.”
She had not concerned herself with the arrangements for tonight’s celebration banquet at all, leaving everything in Sister Meiling’s careful hands. Meiling was always meticulous and thorough in her work, so Lin Mi trusted her completely.
“I’ll go ask Yuan Yuan,” Zhou Meiling said, puzzled.
At that moment, Yuan Yuan was happily clinking glasses with several staff members. When she heard Zhou Meiling’s inquiry, she set down her drink.
“Is something the matter?” Liu Rumeng immediately guessed the implication behind Qin Fen’s words.
He froze for a moment, then quickly struggled to his feet, hiding behind a large boulder. Looking up at the sky again, he saw two formidable figures locked in a frenzied battle, while the others had all fallen to the ground.
Xiao Chen stayed by Xiao Ling’er’s side. Whenever she tried to act recklessly, he would stop her, thus avoiding unnecessary entanglements and buying more time to continue their ascent toward the summit.
Another person spoke, and Chu Xuan obediently followed behind the group. The man called Zhong Yu never once glanced at Chu Xuan from beginning to end.
But everything was already too late. The high-level cultivator wielding the black crystal sword was instantly turned into a beehive by the sharp blades bursting from the ground, unable to close his eyes even in death.
Everyone quickly looked around. Aside from the subordinates brought by Nakajima, there seemed to be no sign of anyone else.
A subtle smile flashed across Master Yuekong’s face as he spoke, his gaze carrying a deeper meaning as it fell on Qin Fen.
“Strike while the iron is hot; don’t give anyone the slightest chance,” Gu Cencheng’s words were crystal clear.
One must know that to produce such a treasure of the world, even the heads of city academies could hardly manage it; only the true powers within the Heavenly Spirit Sect at the Holy Land could do so.
In fact, only those at the middle stage of the Spirit God Realm or above could travel the rainbow path. Early-stage cultivators who managed to rise more than two meters were rare indeed. For someone like him to reach seven or eight meters was already considered genius. Yao Muchen, knowing nothing of this, had fallen as a result.
Han Zhijun glanced over the team and suddenly noticed Ding Yuhan among them, her expression a bit flustered, while Ding Yuhan herself appeared unusually calm, thinking to herself how fortunate it was that Instructor Wang Feng wasn’t leading this training.
“Young Master Ye, those two friends you just met—I promoted them today as well,” Xin Miao said as Ye Bai emerged.
The group worked together seamlessly, a single glance enough to determine their respective roles. Li Qiang gripped the doorknob and gently opened a crack; Tian Zhiyong swiftly tossed in a flashbang; Wang Feng immediately slid into the room at an angle. The entire coordinated operation took but a second.
Someone once praised in verse:
“A thousand pines stir the sea tide,
A single path leads afar through fragrant wilds.
The grass colors stretch across heaven and earth,
Songs soar and pierce the boundless sky.”
Mu Cheng was slightly displeased, but nonetheless extended her hand. Her four fingers pressed against his pulse point; her bones were fair and delicate, her nails neatly trimmed and elegant—nothing like the boneless grace of a sheltered maiden’s slender fingers.
“This I definitely can’t give you, Fatty, because I have no idea what it does,” Yao Muchen immediately refused, harboring a certain fear of the pill.
It was clearly a rather wicked smile, yet on closer inspection, it somehow seemed a little endearing. Mei Ziyan wondered if she was simply sleep-deprived and seeing things.
In its heart, the message was clear: never come back again. If not for the fear of not being able to pay the bill, it could have eaten at least two more cow legs. Rubbing its half-full belly, it could only sigh in regretful pain deep inside.
“Call him Junhao! You’re awfully familiar, calling Liang Jiaxi ‘Jiaxi’ over and over,” he rebuked sharply.
Madman! Murong He really was insane. He deserved to descend to the eighteenth level of hell. Qingwu cursed him fiercely in her heart. She had no idea where Murong He intended to take her; it seemed as if they were circling some place on purpose, as if by design.
“Just strolling around and ended up here,” Lin Hanxi replied with a gentle smile, her attention fixed on Fang Ling’er’s face, completely ignoring Shuang’er standing not far away.