04. Even Villains Need Monsters to Keep Them in Check

Stepping inside, the shade instantly enveloped the group, blocking out the sweltering heat. The beads of sweat on their foreheads began to dissipate.

The waiter, wearing a welcoming smile with a white rag draped over his shoulder, bustled about to clear a table and wipe down the stools, ushering them to take their seats. When he reached out to help the captain with the large box strapped to his back, a single glance from the officer stopped him in his tracks. Withdrawing his hand sheepishly, the waiter brought over a teapot and bowls, asking for their meal preferences and any dietary restrictions. Gao Qingzhi declined the elaborate dishes of meat and fish.

I cursed myself for my lack of foresight. Why did I have to say that just to provoke him? Now, I was in a completely impossible situation, unable to say anything at all.

Qin Jing had been fully prepared to follow me in a bloody rampage to settle scores with the Celestial Master Sect, but having left only a short while ago, I had suddenly transformed into the high-ranking Ninth Elder of that very sect. I could only imagine that he felt as if he’d just been blindsided by a bizarre absurdity.

It was not that I didn't feel fear; after all, my mother and I had truly endured many arduous years in the past.

Perhaps Jin Ya was a director, and it was possible they had been in the middle of a shoot and he hadn't had time to change out of his costume. It wasn't unheard of for extras on their side to arrive in their stage attire for the same reason.

Looking at the clean, washed red garment in her hands, Ye Xuanyuan held it close, feeling the fabric before stepping down from the carriage.

A single charge was enough to impale four large, thrashing blue sharks onto the triangular harpoon. The remaining sharks scattered in a panic, fleeing for their lives.

Watching and listening, Shen Yan knew that his thoughts would only be dismissed by her as nonsense, so he simply sighed and let the matter drop.

Gazing at Shen Yan's handwriting, he felt that he had done far too little for her over the past two years.

Yet, unwilling to show weakness in front of Lin Shuya, he brazenly studied the emblem. The eagle-shaped logo felt vaguely familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before.

Feng Qingming hoped for the marriage alliance to happen as soon as possible, as it would allow all his plans to be moved forward.

Naturally, he returned to the Patriarch's manor. Having inherited the title directly from his father, Tian Mowen had not moved out; Tian Yunmiao’s room remained untouched, and finding a vacant room for Tian Hu within the expansive manor was an easy task.

As for his previous decision to send Yue Hui to assist in the kitchen, it had been an attempt to have Tian Yunmiao test the culinary skills of his foster son. Unfortunately, Tian Yunmiao did not care for Yue Hui, though before leaving, Yue Hui had shown off his knife skills, earning her acknowledgement of his culinary prowess.

"Understood." Jin Lan was puzzled as to why Luo Wusheng would ask him this. Was she planning to let him go?

So that was how she thought of him—that in her heart, he was nothing more than a stingy, miserly dog of a prince.

Zhai Zhen felt his legs go weak. He dared not look into Feng Yunze’s cold, enchanting eyes, which were filled with lethal intent. The prince’s deep, narrow gaze was as sharp as a falcon’s, making Zhai Zhen’s scalp prickle with terror.

Nangong Yu propped up the clothes he had been wearing, shaping them into the silhouette of a sleeping person, and the fake Wang Dazui did the same.

I watched as they approached with a portrait. The leader dipped his hand into a nearby water bucket, scooped up some water, and with one hand pressing down on the back of my head, he used the other to scrub the water across my face, back and forth.

"That was very detailed. As expected of the student council president—fair and appropriate," Chen Ying said, giving a thumbs-up.

As everything returned to its state, the gray-robed elder, whose physical body had just been shattered by the sword light, had already used his magical power to reconstruct a new one. While the other cultivators were still watching from the sidelines, he was the first to rush into the shop, his eyes burning with fanatical fervor.

Old Ma was different; his success might seem like the legendary story of an underdog rising to power, but in reality, it was built upon his exceptional mental fortitude and self-confidence.

Seeming to sense Lin Xi’s unease, the tall man in black spoke up to explain. As the moment of the battle against the Heavenly Dao drew near, the man who called himself the Demon Lord showed great patience in comforting Lin Xi, whose strength was second only to those who defied the heavens.