Hot Spring Resort (23) Camouflage

Sensing a threat approaching, and despite still being in the process of recovering his body, the Krait Patriarch abruptly snapped his eyes open, fixing a piercing glare directly upon Xue Yun.

Xu Yang harbored a vague feeling that the wave after wave of men in black he had encountered on his way between Shangjing and Yuzhou—those who were determined to see him dead—must surely be closely connected to the individuals who had intercepted the imperial edict.

Han Yun let out a low roar, his speed suddenly surging once again. In a single breath, he crossed over a hundred steps, eliciting gasps of astonishment from the various powerful clans watching from below.

The Japanese second line of defense was located halfway up the mountain and consisted of three trench systems. Tanks were extremely ineffective when attacking uphill, forcing Lu Xuehua to slow down and rely on covering fire while combat engineers filled in the trenches before they could advance slowly.

Sure enough, about half an hour later, a man dressed in black-and-gold brocade robes walked in.

Carrying Li Nan on his back, Han Guang wore no discernible expression; he was as unfathomable as the deep, boundless sea.

Tears had already fallen, and now, with his tears dried, he reminisced about the past. Niu Gensheng had felt rather disheartened lately! In his dream, he found himself unconsciously humming a song—*When a Traveler Sheds Tears on the Journey*! Riding a winged white horse alongside Long Chunfeng, he soared into the vast firmament, free and unfettered, reaching a state of absolute self-forgetfulness and complete spontaneity.

Jiuhuang was not left waiting for long. A brief moment after the man turned around, the heavy doors of the Yuele Residence swung open from within, though the person who emerged filled Jiuhuang with immense surprise.

A faint, feigned smile tugged at the corner of Han Shui'er's lips. "You flatter me, Madam Liu. If there is nothing else, I shall return to my office first." With a slight bow, Han Shui'er walked out of Madam Liu's office with her head held high.

Dropping his gaze slightly, the middle-aged man felt a piercing chill rapidly seep into his palms. He had no choice but to channel his soul power to resist it, but when he raised his eyes once more to decline, Fang Tong's retreating figure had already vanished from the doorway.

Looking pitifully at her master, the High Priest Midoriko, sixteen-year-old Izayoi saw that the usually ice-cold beauty had flushed with a rare blush. Midoriko made it clear that she had never taken on such a disciple.

However, the year he turned fourteen, a great upheaval struck his family. His father was framed by a colleague and, as a result, unjustly fired. To make matters worse, after losing his job, his father sank into deep despair and depression. Not only did his mother nag his father every single day, but she also betrayed him, running off with a wealthy businessman.

"Alright, alright, our Beibei is a big girl now. Tell me, what is it? You don't need to beat around the bush with your father." Saying this, Shen Qixuan led her closer to her bedroom door.

Standing nearby, Inuyasha curled his lip at the scene before him, wearing an expression of disdain, though beneath it all, he was consumed by burning jealousy.

The snows of winter gradually receded, and a gentle spring rain arrived quietly. Along the ancient path, the willows swayed like green smoke, and a few newly arrived swallows swept in circles through the air. Yet the figure in the rain, clad in a straw raincoat and bamboo hat, appeared utterly desolate and forlorn. The road ahead was long and fraught with uncertain life and death, but when had he ever cared?

"That is a green-eyed demon beast after all; of course it won't be easy to deal with!" Yu Changsheng gripped his dagger tightly, scanning the movements within the black sand with sharp vigilance.

Thus, even surrounded by a cluster of supreme-grade experts who had transcended the realm of demon immortals, he did not fall behind in the slightest. In fact, he fought with such fierce vigor that he appeared to be the one dictating the entire battlefield.

Feeling a sudden chill sweeping across his back, Luo An did not even turn his head. With a flick of his wrist, he swung his sword back to guard his rear, unleashing a ferocious flash of sword light that clashed directly against Bi Qiong's palm wind. With a crisp explosion of sound, both figures were forced back several steps.

Memories flooded through his mind in a chaotic rush—it seemed he had been pushed around everywhere while utterly exhausted, scanned and probed from all angles, until he finally gave in to sleep, waking up only now.

Naturally, Fang Yi had not yet developed such awareness; she was still immersed in the thrill of having taken advantage of the situation. As for Chu Minghui, he had no way of knowing whether Fang Yi would become famous in the future, but a painting was meant to be looked at anyway—letting her practice by copying it wouldn't diminish its value by even a shred.

The moment the Heaven-Shattering Sword was in his grasp, Yu Kongkong swept it horizontally forward. Layers of overwhelming sword light surged forth like a tidal wave.

Wang Jihu felt a surge of rage in his heart and shouted sternly. With a flip of his right hand, a massive hand-shaped projection suddenly materialized high above Gu Feng's head, slamming down viciously.

Chen Yin's attack had never been intended to inflict actual damage on the main body; his sole purpose was to force it back before turning his attention to the remaining illusion.

"Lord Shen, is what you just said true? One simply cannot joke about matters concerning steel!" Qi Zheti's expression turned grave.

"Very well, let us welcome the challenge of the gentlemen from the Lower House! Whether they are Russians, Chinese, or Liberals from the Lower House, we shall defeat them all!" With that, the Marquis of Salisbury gave a sharp wave of his arm.

"What brand of perfume is that you're wearing? I've never seen it before," Yin Ruojun asked, hugging Moxi and speaking right beside her ear.

Fortunately, Chen Yin and his companions had not chosen to aid Basilisk; otherwise, while struggling against Kratos, that formidable Spartan, they had been struck by a blade from behind, even someone as skilled as Chen Yin would have found it difficult to survive such an assault.

"You must be daydreaming. What, are you hoping to overthrow the Red regime?" Liu Changlin mocked weakly with a dry laugh.

"Hehe, this old servant naturally comes under the direct orders of His Majesty to relay news to the General," Eunuch Wang said, bowing obsequiously towards Zhao Zhaoxuan.

With a flick of his divine sense, the magical artifact was once again hammered by immense force straight back into the gray mist, exactly as expected.

The astonishment in her heart lasted for only a fleeting moment; a second thought later, she could not help but secretly mock herself for still being so naive. If Imperial Concubine Qing hadn't been able to effortlessly draw close to the Emperor, coupled with having a brother serving in the Imperial Hospital, Nan Chengyao probably wouldn't have bothered entangling himself with her.

However, just as the long sword came within a foot of Xue Lian, a sudden, bizarre change occurred. Within the entire blood pool, a terrifying force seemed to erupt in a single instant.

Consequently, the stream of visitors coming to his door every day was endless, and Zhang Zhaoyang was simply driven to distraction by all the people seeking favors through personal connections day in and day out.