Chapter 41: Cursing and Muttering

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Wen Zhao Huang’s eyes grew redder and redder, and his hands clawed desperately at Su Tang’s body.

“Get away—”

Su Tang raised her hand, the bronze hairpin in her palm glinting sharply in the candlelight.

Huang Wen Zhao hadn’t expected Su Tang to still have such strength; caught off guard, a streak of blood flashed across his cheek.

“You—”

With one eye bruised purple, Huang Wen Zhao’s face twisted even more ferociously.

“How dare you! Even if I die, I will never let my grandfather be disgraced.”

The rules of the exchange were that each side would send a representative well-versed in the art of tea. If one side’s representative was defeated, they could concede immediately or send another representative, up to three times. Defeat of the third representative meant failure in this event.

Apart from the biting cold and frost, the peak was adorned only by a few ice lotuses blooming at the cliff’s edge—no other decorations.

After the laughing monk landed, he quickly identified his direction and immediately headed toward Ciyun Temple. After a few steps, his figure vanished into the night.

Luo Jun rode his sword steadily and leisurely, as if wandering through mountains and waters, yet his speed was swift and elusive. He sheathed his sword upon arriving before Qingluo Valley, which twisted like a spiral shell, with its mouth at the tail end, winding for over twenty miles before the valley path became visible.

With the cultivation of the Divine Camel Yixiu, there was no need to enter; a flash of divine light in his eyes revealed everything inside clearly. Layer upon layer of arrangements, all exquisitely splendid, masterfully crafted beyond mortal skill.

Old Yun almost fainted upon hearing the first half of the sentence, thinking it was unnecessary. Who would have thought the latter half directly requested a charger? He was speechless, pulling out a charger from his bag and handing it over.

“Xiaoyao, what do you think we should do?” The Broad-Eyed Demon Lord looked at the nearby Xiaoyao Demon Lord, whose aura was somewhat dispirited. He was both worried and disdainful, not wanting a companion without fighting spirit to assist in his revenge, despite having once shared life and death with him.

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As the words fell, he extended a slender index finger and gently tapped Zhuang Yiman’s red lips.

Wang Chen wasn’t foolish—how could he not tell? Earlier, he had even told Shen Xia to come to his bedroom that night. Seeing it now, such a complicated plan was unnecessary.

The advantage of youth was that during meals, these two swept through every delicacy in the area.

“Yan Xiaoxiao, don’t be angry. I’m not here to find you a psychologist,” Jin Guangyan stammered in explanation.

“You could resign and return home back then; is it harder now than then?” Although she still didn’t understand why her father had resigned at the height of his career, back then both family and outsiders had opposed him. Now, with the Duanmu family prospering,I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.