Volume One, Chapter 22: Thousand-Bladed Silver Frost

"Greetings, Your Highness!"
The group bowed to Bei Linghe.
Bei Linghe smiled slightly and gestured for them to sit. "Please, take a seat."
For a gambler to be kept in such an environment without being allowed to participate was far worse than death.
Beyond Wuli Fort, seventy miles west along the main road, lay a city called Tianjiao. This city was guarded by the military. The name "Tianjiao" meant "at the foot of the Son of Heaven," and it served as a vital fortress on the essential route to Hongfu City, the capital of many generations of kings.
It was evident that she had just finished arguing with the man; she was in a foul mood, which explained her cold attitude toward Fang Xuan and the others.
However, being able to enter the Murong residence would at least make searching for the person easier, so they decided to let things take their course.
The spiritual energy within these corpses, now floating on the surface, had already corrupted, giving off a scent intermingled with the stench of death.
A-Hai shouted; though he worried for Fang Xuan, he placed absolute trust in him.
The reason they could not reach Bai Su was, in truth, due to her broken phone. It had become completely useless after she arrived in the capital.
Yet, while Zheng Fengying, a half-step Great Martial God, was certainly more formidable than others of the same level, Ai Chonglang’s skills as a true Great Martial God were far beyond anything Ren Wo Fei could compare to back then.
Liu Weixiang had initially hesitated, but after catching a glimpse of Zeng Lang’s expectant gaze, her heart softened, and she immediately agreed.
Every island, jungle, and mountain range they sought had already been occupied by other teams.
Zhan Zhao’s hand trembled, causing his mask to fall to the floor. He saw my eyes open, gazing at him with a smile. Overjoyed, he hurriedly sent for Master Gongsun and Lord Bao.
It was not the two distinct halves of his face that were terrifying; what was truly horrific was the empty, hollow eye on the decaying side, from which traces of blood seeped—a gruesome and nauseating sight.
After looking Chen Fan up and down, Gao Xiaojin curled his lips, his eyes filled with hostility and mockery.
Conquering enemies requires an army, but conquering the hearts of the people requires wealth and grain. The Princess, the world’s number one, naturally understood this principle.
There was no help for it; such professional methods of killing could not possibly be the work of an ordinary faction, as even the agents of the Sharp Blades would struggle to be this clean.
"Is my mother still on Chang Island?" Wang Ze continued to ask. To escape the counterattacks of the Qi army, his mother, Gongxi Wenruo, had personally stationed herself on Chang Island to oversee the logistics for Wang Ze and Wang Yong’s armies. However, now that Qizhou, Qingzhou, and Guangzhou had all been captured by their own forces, he assumed his mother would no longer be there.
Blocking their path was a lone traveler; his method was simple: a wall of fire, towering into the clouds, kept anyone from daring to approach.
The crowd watched Gongsun Ce in stunned silence, seeing for the first time this man—usually as steady as a mountain and as gentle as a scholar—so utterly unraveled, his intermittent sobs echoing through the air.
When they arrived at the village, the townspeople had already gathered at Old Man Shang’s home. Because the house was too poor and cramped to accommodate so many, Wang Ze sat with Cheng Xueying and Zhu Qingqing beneath a large camphor tree in the courtyard.
The people surrounding them listened to their conversation, vaguely sensing that something was amiss; this group was not the same as the one at the gate. While men enjoyed gossip, they would not speak of it recklessly; thus, many still remained unaware of Bai Nuanqing’s true identity.
Shen Ye looked as if he had been struck by lightning; his expression collapsed and his entire body stiffened. Like a machine, he struggled to turn his head.