Chapter Ninety-One: The First Connection

San Tu Palace, disciples’ sleeping quarters.

Qin Xiaomo eagerly opened her eyes, searching around as she called, “Jidou? Jidou?”

“Master, you’re awake!” The little white dumpling happily scampered over, begging to be petted.

The proud and spoiled Fugui lounged nearby, drawling, “Master, there’s a dog outside!”

Qin Xiaomo quickly covered their mouths with her hand. “Shh~”

She perked up her ears to listen, but after a long moment, there was no response. It seemed her attempt had failed.

Soon, a crackling sound like radio static echoed in her ears, as if she were listening to a broadcast through headphones.

Fragments of voices drifted in and out—was she imagining things? After a while, she finally caught something familiar...

Haitang closed her eyes, her long lashes quivering. Droplets clung to her lashes; it was impossible to tell if it was sweat or condensation from the steamy bath.

After a brief exchange, neither had anything more to say. Li Xun’s gaze fell to the ground, while the demon phoenix looked up at the sky. An awkward silence settled over the scene—at least, it appeared so to outsiders.

Of course, the Blood War wasn’t solely a battle between demons and devils. They made up the main force, but creatures from many realms joined the fray. For beings from other planes, the Blood War was an ideal stage for adventure, fortune, power, or vengeance.

Half-reclining on the bed, Xiao Ye flipped his palm, and a seven-leafed herb shimmering with green light appeared in his hand.

Wu Kai, seeing this, thought of his ever-smiling companion, Chen Ying, and his brows furrowed as he stepped back into the tavern’s main hall.

Xiao Ye felt a surge of confusion. When he looked up, he noticed that everyone except Cang and Ouyang Xuan had retreated a hundred yards away, deepening his bewilderment.

He didn’t know how far-reaching these changes might be, but at least on Canglong Star, the effects were obvious.

One could imagine he wasn’t particularly happy, but in the end, how many things in life truly bring happiness?

“Seng, take your men and have a look,” Norman ordered, gesturing behind him as he watched Wang Ping’s hand still gripping the Thunderfist tightly.

“You’ll understand in time. If you ever want to fire, just do it,” Qian Ying said, tucking her hair behind her ear and curving her lips into a slight smile.

Outside, the atmosphere was lively. Students had gathered in crowds behind the ropes, cheering excitedly for their own classes.

“Bang!” In that flash of a moment, a sword shot straight from the front, piercing through his whip and embedding itself in an ancient painting hung on the wall behind him.

Xie Yilian was bewildered, but seeing Ji Qin’s earnest expression—and knowing this girl had always been devoted to her—she decided not to ask further and simply listen to see what was going on.

Tian Mo walked ahead, pausing to observe each door as he passed. He wasn’t clear on what had happened to the people here. If Lucia were present, they might have understood more.

Seeing this, Ling Han hurried over, helping He Yumo settle comfortably on the sofa. She smiled at him, clearly frightened but not wanting Ling Han to worry.

Nan Xueyu tightened her grip. “Mother means he might harm those around him?” Even the Empress Dowager and Ye?

The ladies still saw her as the timid, foolish girl she once was, barely acknowledging her as she entered, each remaining seated without so much as a glance.

“What, do you always have to choose this service for massages here?” Zhao Long frowned.

“Silly, don’t overthink it! Go watch some TV—I’ll go make dinner,” Ling Han said, patting He Yumo’s shoulder and nudging her toward the sofa.

Crackling, Guan Yu’s body erupted in a chorus of bone snaps, enveloped in a surge of azure true energy. A blue dragon spiraled above the garden.

Even without this, the Xiong family was closer to both the Gu family and the Quan family, and the bond between Gu and Quan was truly remarkable.

A warmth stirred in his heart; he knew his dedication had not been in vain. At last, his efforts had been rewarded.