Chapter 61 The Old Dry Well

Meng Lianqiao dashed forward like an arrow, pinning the female ghost directly into the dried-up well.

I had no time to consider anything else; I hastily picked up the Eight Trigrams Mirror, bit my finger to draw blood, wrote a talisman on its surface, and threw it into the well.

In an instant, all the black, ominous energy vanished without a trace. That oppressive presence seemed to flee, leaving not a single sound behind.

Witnessing this, my legs gave way and I slumped to the ground.

...

"The ICA Fund holds major positions in Guotian Profiles and Nanhuan Technology, or rather, it almost exclusively invests long-term in these two stocks. At this point in time, if Manager Fang says he doesn't need sell-side research reports, I truly don't dare provide them," Wang Nuo said with a smile.

"The direction and magnitude of price fluctuations are too hard to predict." Wang Nuo was surprised at how quickly Wu Xuan grasped the situation, but... it was ultimately pointless.

I didn't know how to respond, so I remained silent, sitting aside and fiddling with my fingers. As I played, drowsiness overtook me, and I fell asleep at the bedside.

Ning Xiyuan set up a barrier around the group, then sat casually opposite Yan Qi'an, turning to look at Yin Ming.

"What Churan said isn't wrong. Compared to that, I'm actually more worried about something else. The Spirit Taming Sect already knows we're here. Next, they're bound to use any means necessary to sabotage our bidding," Zhou Qing's expression grew grave.

But lacking evidence, I had no way to deal with Ji Manrou, so I could only swallow my resentment and mention the matter no further.

No matter how you look at it, this was a loss; Greenhorn had been taught a lesson, and Dou Jiang, that hawkish financier, had tossed the problem back. If I agreed, the order could be processed directly through the electronic system.

Lu Yin released all the strength he had just regained, cutting down several disciples of Purple Sun Mountain. Yet he seemed spent, leaving everyone convinced that flight was his only option now.

Hua Xuanji gasped, staring fixedly at the spot where the figure had just stood, but there was still no one there. The snow was already thick; if anyone had passed, they would have left footprints. Yet the place Qingge had pointed out was perfectly clean—it must have been a case of mistaken perception due to fear.

"Longzhi-20?" Ji Ruxue's brow furrowed slightly. Combined with Long Zhan's tone earlier, she realized something significant was about to happen.

"What? You've already earned the scholar's title, but you're not even ten years old this year," the Prince of Wei's heir exclaimed in astonishment. He truly hadn't expected Shui Yunjun to be a xiucai already, preparing for the autumn provincial exams. If he passed, he'd become a juren—a ten-year-old juren was no ordinary feat.

The Dragon Thunderstorm skill, while covering a vast area, had only average speed and power—fine for dealing with common monsters, but still lacking against mature dragons.

Blade Tyrant led his fleet toward the eastern coast of the Eastern Continent, near the Shadowy Forest, intending to land in the territory of the giant trolls and establish a temporary base. He also planned to attempt reclaiming the ancestral Aman trolls. After all, the tribe and the Alliance were old enemies; it was best to keep some distance.

Zhou Taohua, unable to break free from Qingxuan no matter how she struggled, began to babble in panic. She hadn't noticed Lord Jun had already walked out of sight. If she didn't hurry, she really wouldn't find him.

Of the other three men, one had the face of Judge Bao—black as coal, looking as though he'd come from Africa. Another was tall but as thin as a rake. The last was the model of a handsome man—sword-shaped brows, starry eyes, radiating a masculine energy.

In response to Qian Chuanlin's inquiry, Xu Zhengdao thought for a moment and replied, "Let's replace the wood with something else! Except for those two corridor pillars, change all the timber in the other houses. Use whatever material we can salvage, and if it's not enough, we'll buy reclaimed wood."

Though it was unclear what crimes the two convicts had committed, judging by the fearless sacrifice of the constables, these two were certainly not good people. If they managed to escape capture, there would be no peace in the mountains for a long time to come.