Chapter Ninety-Two: Houtu and the Three Pure Ones Confer Together

The great powers, upon hearing that most of the seven sacred seats of the Nether Way were being temporarily held by the ancestral witches of the Witch Clan, felt some regret, but were not surprised.

For Hou Tu came from the Witch Clan; her family was vast and powerful. Even now that she had attained the Dao and become an ancestor, when it came time to divide up fortune and merit, the first people she would think of were surely the witches.

It was only human nature. Anyone else would have done the same.

Moreover, much of the authority over the territories governed by the seven sacred seats of the Nether Way had long belonged to the ancient witches of the primordial lands, and by rights should have been theirs.

What should be done? How could one prove oneself, show that one was truly the most suitable to assist him?

That, however, was not even the main issue. The real problem was that Zhang Yun did not realize he had chosen a dragon robe from a certain dynasty as the clothes he would have to wear every day from then on.

After telling Yang Feifan and Tie Niu of his plan, he immediately had them drive away everyone near the platform, including his own guards and all the officers of the Guardian Army who were qualified to ascend it.

Interrupted by the two of them, Yang Feifan also came to himself. Going to find Zhang Yun now would not only be useless, it might well drive him into a rage and make him turn on them outright.

"So what? Anyone I run into... dies." Gaara said expressionlessly.

After all, one thousand silver coins was a tremendous shock to any person. Even the first time he saw that number, it had stabbed at the eyes.

Ye Yi let out a dull groan of pain. Blood gushed from his back, and Su Miaojing stared in disbelief, her eyes widening.

At that moment, the Western Yi Kingdom was in dire straits. The Wa tribe to the west had only just been dealt with, and the armies of the Cheng Kingdom had already surrounded it from the east and south.

After some time apart, Yao Chuxi felt that Consort De seemed more radiant than ever, as though she had found renewed spirit.

"You'd better sit on the ground," she said with irritation, and helped Mei Zi sit back down where she was.

Faced with the crown prince's uncompromising stance, the veins on Li Shimin's arm bulged. The fire that had just begun to subside flared up once more.

When he returned to the post office, he removed the lock and found inside five letters, along with the clippings made by the former mail carrier before his death.

His uncle was naturally Changsun Wuji, a staunch member of the crown prince's faction, brother of the Empress Changsun, and someone who had always been close to Li Chengqian.

The Jinwu Guard, which should have been suppressing the rumors, now seemed entirely unaware and allowed them to spread.

If it had been any other outsider, one who dared to touch his merchandise with filthy hands, he would already have had that hand cut off.

According to footage transmitted by the nation’s satellite, the entire incident had taken less than half a minute from start to finish.

A clear sword cry shattered the howl of wind and snow. The white uniform coat flew through the air, and the nearly two-meter-long famed blade Thunder Rain carved a crescent mark through the sky, closing in on Serenity’s head in an instant.

Unlike Ning Zhe, who had entered that eerie place at the crack of dawn, Feng Yushu was swept into Hejia Village around seven in the evening. At the time, she had been on her way to bring a cup of coffee to her husband’s room; the moment she pushed open the door, she entered that place.

"Sir, then please go and treat my grandfather. If you can cure him, our Song family will surely repay you handsomely," Song Qingya said with utmost sincerity.

Cheng Qing’s lips trembled. Through the gaps between her fingers, her gaze fell upon that pale, clean face, and she subconsciously wanted to deny it.

"Why did you only answer now? What were you busy with?" Chu Yan’s voice was very gentle, yet carried a trace of dissatisfaction.

Cui Musheng’s face turned deathly pale. He had no recollection at all of where his brooch had gone, and even suspected that the nanny had stolen it. He had never imagined that the girl would actually have taken it away.

To see a living dragon of legend in one’s lifetime—such a sensation was truly difficult to describe for the moment.

Although Zhang Xiu’s Five Pecks of Rice sect was still in Hanzhong, its influence extended only there. It could not assist with the greater tides of the world, and given Zhang Xiu’s cautious nature, he likely would not send troops to aid the Taiping Dao.