Chapter 147: Great Emperor, Two Thousand Years!

A so-called covenant.

It is a spiritual entity born of heaven and earth.

Once a covenant is signed, it means both parties fall under the watchful eye of the world's divine will.

Should anyone dare breach this pact, so long as they remain within this realm or its fringes, the world's will shall hunt them down and claim the stakes pledged by the transgressor according to their word.

When Li Chang'an fought that cultivator earlier, he had sensed the divine will of this world.

Thus, it was for this reason that he proposed this

Hearing that Yun Jianjun possessed a collection of several Yixing clay teapots crafted by ancient masters, Huo Xuetong could not help but feel a yearning fascination.

Though the Saowen and Sereshi families were of equal prominence, there was little interaction between them; since Saowen could remember, she had only seen her father two or three times.

He was someone who could bolster my spirits and help me pull myself together when I was on the verge of collapse. Yet looking at his current despondent state, I realized that even Chen Le could run entirely out of strength.

Lin Yixuan was a man capable of deceiving Ning Ling's affections—and even taking her life—all for the sake of bringing Song Yan back to the living.

He had nothing left to say, knowing full well his days were numbered. In the presence of Long Sheng, he stood no chance of escape.

The youth spoke again in a deferential voice, "Naturally, we have it." He then led them further into the manor, which was vast and laid out with exquisite elegance, resembling not the celestial palace of a cultivator, but rather the garden estate of a wealthy mortal family.

Long Kun had once considered making a deal with Peng Haoming, but now he had changed his mind; Peng Haoming had willingly surrendered his most advantageous bargaining chip, yet Long Kun felt no gratitude toward him for it.

Xinyi put down the telephone and waved a hand to the bodyguard behind him; the guard leaned down, and after Xinyi whispered a few words into his ear, the guard departed.

Yet this very face bore a striking resemblance to the passerby inadvertently caught in the first photograph; because that image was somewhat blurred, I dared not be certain, and could only turn my gaze toward the third photograph.

In the old days, the family home consisted of two and a half brick rooms plus a storehouse, with a courtyard spanning over fifty square meters, enclosed by a wooden plank fence.

When a matter found its way to her door, it usually meant the police had reached their absolute wits' end.

He replied to the message and set his phone aside, yet to his surprise, a notification chimed the moment he put it down; picking it up to look, he found it was actually from Zhao Kaixuan.

Watching the brother and sister weep in each other's arms, Ye Lin was suddenly overcome by a feeling, a profoundly intense emotion.

The potency of this packet of white powder was even more violent than the last; Ye Lin felt as though every nerve in his body were being washed clean, a sensation of absolute comfort washing over him as his body grew weightless, leaving him utterly unable to control himself.

The draconic qi surged through Zhu Ping'an's meridians like a wild, untamed stallion, now plunging into deep abysses, now leaping above the surface, elusive and still more difficult to refine.

It was not that the bandits had failed to call for reinforcements, but rather that the soldiers of Ta'an County fought with such reckless disregard for their own lives that the bandits had only just managed to pass the message through.

And among the remnant souls here, some had not yet entirely dissipated, though they were too shattered to survive for much longer.

The two of them grew increasingly excited as they worked; Xie Qifeng and Bai Yu could not hold out and went to rest early, but when the old deputy brigade commander arose for breakfast the next morning, he discovered the pair still maintained their posture from the previous night, hunched immovably before the computer.

Madam Mo recalled the looks those three men had cast upon her during the Luoxiao banquet, and a cold smile curled at the corners of her lips.

The young man slouched in his chair, hanging his head as though he possessed no bones, casting his gaze in the direction of Lin Jiangluo; this single glance caused the other's eyes to narrow slightly.

There had always been such a powerful, oppressive aura about him, a force that made one dread to meet his gaze.

Baobei was left speechless; she knew that her understanding and what he meant by understanding were definitely not on the same wavelength, and any further words would only bring tears.

Yet Fang Xiao had calculations of his own; the Huashan Sect was, no matter how one looked at it, an ancient sect, and he refused to believe that if the system had created the Huashan Sect, it would allow it to be as weak as a dog! At the very least, it ought to be balanced out.