he translation:Jiang Wang was pondering how to appease this God Catcher, or perhaps pretend not to see him at all. Suddenly, his vision blurred, and he saw a blind old man carrying a white paper lante...Qiu Shunhua pointed to the empty seat beside him, gesturing for Yelan'er to sit down. She smiled gracefully: "Even if the food is cold and stale, you can still say bad things about me My Huangliangtai has collapsed, who will support you now"

Ye Lan'er snorted: "Those who want to believe it can, those who don't can just ignore it."

She looked at Jiang Wang: "There are some things to deal with, I came late, please forgive me, Young Master Jiang."

“We just arrived too.” Jiang Wang smiled faintly.

>

Ye Lan'er took two more steps, but instead of sitting in the empty seat, she looked at Chu Yu and smiled: "I prefer to sit where General Chu is. Sitting in the northeast, facing southwest, with the wind blowing and gazing at the clouds."

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"Who could resist the Night Girl" Chu Yu laughed casually, directly picking up his chair and standing up. He switched positions with Ye Lan'er and helped her arrange her chair.

>

When Ye Lan'er had finished her farewells, she gracefully sat down.

Just to Jiang Wang's right.

>

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Jiang Wang almost smelled a faint fragrance, but it dissipated after a moment, leaving him with a sense of regret.

But he just kept a polite smile, nodding to the new diner.

As night fell, she too smiled and nodded.

As the host of today's banquet, Qu Shunhua looked at Jiang Wang and then at Ye Lan'er and smiled: "The rest of us are already acquainted with each other. I think you two don't need me to introduce yourselves, do you You are both the best in the world, surely you have a tacit understanding!"

One of the most prestigious and influential inner palaces in the world.

The most beautiful woman in the world.

Of course, the First Lord of the Inner Palace has already left the country. As for this number one beauty, she is still confined within the borders of Chu.

At least if it were up to Jiang Wang, he certainly wouldn't think that Ye Lan was the first beauty in the world.

Yè Lán'er glared at Qu Shunhua with a hint of resentment: "Jiang Gongzi earned his title as 'Number One Under Heaven' through fistfights and kicks on the Guanhe Terrace. What am I Saying that I'm Number One would be laughable."

At a glance, she looked towards Jiang Wang: "Long time no see, Young Master Jiang, your charisma surpasses the past!"

Jiang Wang was stunned.

It wasn't because Ye Lan and he had chatted amiably.

It's not because Nightingale is too beautiful.

...but the polite phrase he habitually used... was actually used by Ye Lan'er first!

Luckily, he reacted quickly and replied with —

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"Oh"

Once I said it, I realized how stupid my reply was. It left the other person with nothing to say.

In a flash of thought, he replied with a playful tone: "Why don't you elaborate"

As night fell, the smile on Ye Lan’er's face froze.

This Yellow River leader's words this time are very different from his performance at the riverside pavilion before. They are... too much,

too insincere.

Especially coupled with that insincere smile, it gives off the air of a seasoned old man who has spent too much time in the world of pleasure and vice.

Zuo Guangshu was probably feeling embarrassed again, and silently looked out the window.

Qiu Shunchu still had a good impression of Jiang Gege. He felt that Jiang Gege was just momentarily blinded by beauty, which caused him to lose his composure when speaking.

Is it normal for young people to be obsessed with beauty

Xiao Guang is not always talking incoherently, is he

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Then Pao Ma came galloping to the rescue: "Brother Jiang's style, can it be summed up in just a few words On the Guanhe Terrace, defeating Bei Xiang, battling Lord Yan Luo, and facing Huang Sheli in a decisive battle, weren't all those famous games"

She looked at Jiang Wang, and said earnestly: "Later I also know that Big Brother Jiang single-handedly fought against the four great demon lords, killing them all. With this legendary war record, his name was recorded as the first internal palace in history. Such a magnificent feat, could you tell us about it"

Jiang Wang wouldn't dare to brag in front of so many people. This wasn't a private conversation with An An or Zuo Guangshu, where he could show off.

"That was embarrassing. Let's just forget about that and move on."

After he said that, he did seem to have some sincerity: "The Inner Court realm is a thing of the past. The glories of yore can only remain in the past and cannot illuminate Xing Lou."

"Well said!" Chu Yuzhi didn't care about the undercurrents at all, and said directly: "Don't let the clouds obscure your vision. Brother Jiang's realm is admirable!"

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Ye Lan'er thought to herself, "What he said is indeed true. If what Jiang Wang just said was from the heart, then the Yellow River leader of the Inner Palace Realm wouldn't be his final destination."

As several people were chatting, five beautiful young girls each carrying a finely crafted wooden chest walked up the stairs.

When the wooden box was opened, inside lay a complete set of tableware. There were ivory chopsticks, jade bowls, Ru kiln porcelain plates, and phoenix-patterned luminous cups...

Carefully arranged, it was presented before the five seated figures.

Then they each stood behind the five men, acting as serving maids and preparing to serve the meal.

Then a waiter slowly ascended the stairs, carrying a dragon boat-shaped jade basin. He approached the table and before lifting the lid, the scent of fragrance wafted over them.

Yet the dishes from the Yellow Liang Stage's kitchen had already been served.

Everyone fell silent, waiting patiently for the dishes to be served.

>

This dragon boat-shaped jade basin, lightly placed in the center of the round table, seemed incredibly lively.

Just the craftsmanship of this jade basin alone is enough to demonstrate its value.

The maidservant standing beside Jiang Wang, who must be the head attendant for this table, introduced in a measured tone: "Today's banquet is the Shenglong Banquet. The first dish is called 'Jade Dragon.'"

"Jade Dragon, also known as Fish Dragon, is said to be a type of dragon, but it's just a legend. However, it's true that its spiritual power is abundant, and its long whiskers are indeed like those of a dragon."

She reached out and lifted the jade lid, handing it to the servant who was bringing the dish upstairs.

To my surprise, even before the lid was lifted, I could smell a faint fragrance. But the moment the lid was opened, there wasn't any scent at all.

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Everyone saw that, within a dragon-shaped jade basin, in the clear fish soup, a jade dragonfish with long whiskers and golden scales swam slowly.

Jiang Wang's eyes twitched, and he couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Who doesn't know how to cook fish Bringing up a live fish to fool me"

“This fish isn’t fully cooked,” the maid beside him, as if sensing the guest's thoughts, introduced softly, “It's still swimming, but it's driven by extracted instinct, not its life force.”

Having said that, she picked up a small jade hammer and gently tapped the fish's head with it.

And the fish scales, still shimmering with gold, fell completely off and sank to the bottom of the pot, just like a beautiful woman shedding her silken robes.

Thus, the tender and snowy white fish flesh was exposed to everyone's view.

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The fish skin has shed, but this jade dragon still moves slowly along its previous path.

The maidservant used a jade spoon to scoop up a small bowl of fish meat and put it in front of Jiang Wang.

"Please, sir, have some."

The other maids also ladled fish into the bowls of their respective guests.

Jiang Wang ignored everyone else and scooped a spoonful into her mouth.

I could only feel the smoothness, tenderness, and fragrance. I couldn't help but swallow it in one bite.

It turns out that all the aromas were gathered by this fish meat.

Then it exploded on the tip of the tongue, then crashed against the throat.

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Even the fish meat had been swallowed, but the lips and teeth still lingered with its fragrance, like a jade dragon swimming in a jade basin...

The greatest taste in life!

There was only one thought in Jiang Wang's mind.

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No one spoke, everyone silently ate all the fish in their bowls and waited for the maids to serve another bowl.

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The jade dragon in the Dragon Boat jade basin quickly became a skeleton of fish bones, complete with fins, but it still swam in the soup.

This is its extracted, swimming "instinct".

Jiang Wang glanced at the dragon boat jade basin. He kind of wanted to try this fish soup, but it seemed like the serving girl hadn't intended to serve him...

While he was still hesitating whether to do it himself, the maidservant of the head servant had already brought back the lid and covered the dragon boat jade basin.

It seemed unintentional, yet also like a reminder: "This jade dragon can't be used for soup. All the impurities are within it. This soup is of low quality."

Jiang Wang thought to himself, even an inferior broth might be quite delicious.

But the waiter who served the dish had already carried away the jade basin on the dragon boat and gone downstairs.

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It leaves one feeling lost and forlorn.

Some people live in high-rise mansions, while others have no shelter but the open sky.

Some people are enjoying the fragrance of flowers in a graceful manner, while others are curled up holding onto something foul.

In this world, people are inherently different from each other.

The differences in life, the views are different, the encounters are different, and the pursuits are different.

Life is diverse.

Fang He-ling often remembers the way those people laughed and drank together.

He actually really wants to join in.

>

To be like them, unrestrained and flamboyant.

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But he was always different from them.

The so-called "Five Heroes of the Maple Forest" is a laughable title, no matter where you go.

It's not impressive at all, it's very poor quality.

Even in the Maple Forest City, he couldn't reach the extraordinary level. No cultivator would even glance at him.

But among the outer disciples of the Fenglin City Daoist Academy, it was extremely renowned.

To those who longed to enter the City Academy, it was practically legendary.

The five most outstanding outer disciples, kindred spirits, became sworn brothers. Together they traversed mountains and rivers, upholding justice and helping the weak. Perhaps in the future, they would also wield their swords together, roaming the world freely.

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How much he wished to be a part of it.

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He also imagined himself, sword drawn, traveling thousands of miles to slay his enemies and return in triumph. He would drink fine wine and sing boisterous songs with his brothers.

But this life, can no longer.

All those who later turned into unrecognizable beings, initially wouldn't have wanted to change!

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Blood is so vivid, yet so painful a color.

From some point on, everything I saw was covered in blood.

No, no that's not right.

This world, it is inherently bloody.

No, no...

You clearly remember, from when it started...

Then why blur

Why forget

Why are you so cowardly

Why, even though I'm working so hard, am I still so weak!

A stabbing pain came from the chest, coming and going in waves. It felt like ants were crawling, a knife was cutting, and fire was burning.

The relentless pain made Fang Hualing want to collapse, curl up on the ground, and hug herself.

But he just stood there silently, expressionless.

Before him stood a sheer cliff, upon which grew a towering pine with roots that burrowed deep into the earth.

On a pine tree, hung a man.

The person's hands were bound together and hung above their head.

The rope was blood-colored, and the other end of it was tied into a tree branch, as if it were growing together with the branch.

This person's feet were also bound together, bloody ropes coiled several times, intersecting behind him, like two blood snakes, suddenly taut, nailed into the sheer cliff.

This person was thus fixed in mid-air. His teeth clenched, his eyes wide open and bulging, veins throbbing on his forehead.

>

At this very moment, everything is quite silent. Only the wind can be heard blowing.

And the silent, standing Fang He Ling, with her right hand outstretched, pierced through the chest of the man before her, grasping his heart.

Hate's power is boundless, spreading through hate and seeking answers within the heart.

> Pain amplifies pain.

The person in front of you, tortured and suffering, doesn't know that the one inflicting pain on them suffers even more.

Of course, even if you knew, it would be of no use in alleviating anything.

At this level of pain, Fang Huiling had long since grown accustomed to it. She silently chewed on the information her heart was sending.

Most of it is useless, with only a few scattered clues to be caught, just like finding crickets in the grass as a child — and this is easier than getting them to speak.

“The Wu Sheng teaching's moon rabbit, is it just the rabbit face from the twelve bone faces before...”

Fāng Hèlíng murmured to herself.

His hand clenched slowly, and his heart was crushed little by little.

The man hanging there still had his eyes wide open, but the light was gone from them.

His body had already decayed, and his soul perhaps dissipated in this way, perhaps went to the so-called world without life... Who knows

Fang He Ling drew his hand back, flicking it lightly. The blood staining his hand flew out in a graceful arc, scattering down the sheer cliff face.

>

He wasn't suited for the Heart-Reading Technique, and in fact, he lacked the natural talent to wield it.

The Bái Gǔ Dào's Blood Returning Pill had already destroyed his foundation—although his foundation was originally mediocre.

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He was in a dying state and was found unexpectedly.

He was reshaped after being severed.

The blood-red mansion in the five provinces of China was built by Wuli.

His hatred was a power, woven directly into his very being.

He is not a good fit.

The first-person demon had already made a judgment, he was not suitable.

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But what is he suited for

He is too mediocre, too useless, just a waste.

Even Yan Chunhui, who was at the peak of his powers, didn't know what he was suited for!

Then he could only grasp his burning hatred with all his might.

This is his only choice.

To take hatred as one's name, it is not the path to strength, nor is it a terrible perseverance, let alone the word "will."

...just the only hope in this lingering, feeble life.

The only hope of avenging oneself with one's own hands.

So he could only do that.

There's no other way.

Although every use of the technique of hatred comes with great suffering.

It's as if the divine seed itself possessed a spirit, unwilling to be controlled by someone like him, a useless wretch.

Though the cost of using this power was pain that made him want to commit suicide.

He wanted to give up countless times, wanting to collapse on the ground, wanting to cry his eyes out.

But he didn't.

In this world, no one will bail him out anymore. No one will hold his head and say to him, "Then prove it to me, my son."

Nobody cared about his tears.

Strength begins where weakness ends.

He no longer lived to prove anything to anyone.

"No-Birth Teachings... No-Birth Teachings."

He chewed on the word repeatedly.

This religious sect developed in Yong, Jiao, and Luo countries. It seems to have first emerged during the war between Zhuang and Yong.

> It developed rapidly, fueled by the immense suffering caused by war.

>

"War, death, hatred..." Fang Huelin murmured.

This sect is directly descended from the Bai Gu Dao, but they do not worship the Bai Gu Evil God. Instead, they worship the Wu Sheng Jiao Zu, a figure who embodies the roles of God Master, Dao Master, and Teach Master all in one.

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The deity is their god, the sage their ideal, and the teacher their leader.

In this respect, it differs completely from other cults.

From the White Bone Path to the Non-Birth Sect, that moon rabbit must definitely know something...

Fāng Hèlíng thought this way.

But he was also very clear.

Since the end of the Battle of Zhuangyongguo, it has only been a year and a half.

This sect was able to develop to its current scale in such a short period of time, the strength behind it is definitely not something he can challenge alone.

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Of course, he wasn't without organization behind him.

Even if one were to die from divination, die from being evil, die from having one's flesh cut off, die from beheading, nearly half of the nine great demon lords would be slain and injured.

But these things won't shake anything.

As long as the leader and our demon still exist, Wuhui Valley will always be mighty.

Such an extremely loose organization as the Unreturning Valley could offer him absolutely no help.

Everyone in the organization is completely **ing self-serving.

Don't even think about making any friends.

Every single person in this organization is selfish, cold-hearted, and heartless.

At most, under the boss's will, they try their best not to kill each other.

Only top-down orders can integrate any amount of power.

For example, the fortune teller demon could order several of his followers to destroy Qingyun Pavilion, or he could lead them with countless wicked blades to plot against Yu Beidou. Every one of them would have to obey the boss's orders...

However, among the nine Demon Lords, he ranked ninth.

It's obvious that even if new demons are added, his ranking won't improve.

The ranking of demons is based solely on strength, not time.

So why am I still so weak!

I'm such a failure...

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I'm not trash!

Fang He's eyes went mad for a moment, then calmed quickly again.

To borrow the power of Wuhui Valley.

Unless...

The touch of the Wu Sheng teachings reaches Chen Guo.

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But this group of non-living cult members are acting wildly, while their upper echelons seem very cautious. It seems like they don't have any plans to expand in the short term.

Then, what should we do

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Fang He Ling silently thought, turning around to leave.

His footsteps came to a halt.

At this time, a person stood before him.

This person appeared at an unknown time and stood behind him for how long, no one knew.

But he didn't notice it at all.

>What's more important than that —

This man stands silently, letting the mountain wind scatter his long hair.

It appeared countless times in his nightmare!

This man, he is the nightmare itself!

In just a flash, Fang He'ling's eyes turned blood red, and a cold light already leaped between her fingers!

In the shortest amount of time, he unleashed all the power he could muster, including what he had mastered and what he hadn't.

In an era where swordsmanship flourished, there was a school of swordplay known as "Remnant."

What is the Broken Sword Art

The sky is fading, the earth is barren, and people are extinct.

Extremely vicious and cruel.

To be separated is to lose a part of one's soul, sever two parts of one's bone, cut three parts of one's flesh, and spill four parts of one's blood.

To be the furnace, to be the fire, forge a broken sword with my life.

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This sword was born with a heavenly opening, and when it moves, the earth splits. It was created for killing, and it refuses to stop until all souls and lives are devoured.

This is a forbidden technique of the flying sword era!

Even a powerful swordsman like Yan Chunhui, who inherited the supreme swordsmanship, was described as wielding a "murderous sword."

Because he fought desperately and accomplished a task that was nearly impossible for someone of his ability, he was rewarded accordingly.

Yan Chunhui reminded him, "There is no way out but to take the desperate path."

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Feng Hulei had been practicing this sword technique for a long time and completely understood the reminder.

This swordsmanship first harms oneself before harming others.

It was undoubtedly a path gone astray, a product of the most narrow-minded and radical period in the era of flying swords. It can even be called a "curse" of the flying sword era.

But what choice did he have

Not all powerful martial arts techniques don't need to focus on talent.

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Even if Yan Chunhui were willing to pass down the Wangu Jian Dian, the pinnacle sword technique of the flying sword era, would he have the talent to learn it

Fang Huiling had told herself more than once that the Residual Sword Art could not be used lightly.

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He understood very well the danger of this swordsmanship.

But the moment he saw this man with drooping hair, he had already unleashed his heart-hating divine power, drawing out the soul-piercing dagger. His whole body was as taut as a scabbard, and a ferocious sword cry echoed!

He clung to life, every breath he took for this person!

In this moment, in this very instant.

Zhang Linchuan... Zhang Linchuan... Zhang Linchuan!

When you know my hatred!

Fang He Ling had never felt so powerful. A surge of energy coursed through her body.

It seemed as if heaven and earth themselves were trembling.

The excruciating pain that seemed to emanate from the heart, now served as a strange kind of motivation.

His soul trembled!

Everything we've struggled through along the way, it all burns in this round.

At least for this round...

Zhang Linchuan!

Look at me!

In Fang He Ling's blood-red eyes, at this very moment, there was only one person she could see.

Then he saw...

The person quietly lifted their eyes and cast a glance.

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It was just a look.

It was a tranquil, even gentle gaze, yet it was also distant and indifferent.

He had no complaints about this world, but the world had nothing to do with him either.

It was something like that look.

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Like a mountain pressing down.

The body, infinitely heavy.

The heart, infinitely heavy.

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Fang Hèling felt as if she were falling into an endless abyss.

Forever falling to the underworld.

There is nowhere to leverage.

There's no sign of it stopping its fall either.

The sharp and ferocious sword cry from within the body abruptly ceased.

Even with such immense power, it remained unyielding.

The power that was already boiling within me, was suddenly immobilized and unable to surge forth!

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...in the comical pause between explosion and annihilation.

The part of him that had already separated, his soul, bones, flesh, and blood, were awkwardly stuck at the point of separation.

One step back, and this sword vanished. How could he bear it

One step forward, and this sword would be forged, but it wouldn't be able to kill.

Fang Hulei clearly felt that his body was blocked by an invisible force. The feeling...was as if all the pores on his body were blocked, and his skin itself had become a prison.

His own body thus formed a completely sealed space, trapping all his power in the art of the broken sword within.

This is a response.

This resulted in him fighting for his life, giving everything he had... yet all of his strength wasn't even enough to leave his own body.

His people were still charging ahead, but his greatest weapon was still locked inside its shell!

>

Like a swordsman, charging toward his enemy, ready to fight to the death, but his sword is stuck in its sheath, unable to be drawn!

What kind of power is this

What is the gap like

He realized he was utterly defeated, but he couldn't even figure out how he had been suppressed!

Once a thought of despair arises, it can no longer be stopped and grows infinitely.

He had once tasted this despair.

Is this Zhang Linchuan

This is Zhang Linchuan

Fang He Ling vaguely recalled that amidst the violent lightning, Fenglin City's Lord Wei Qiji had plummeted from the sky. And under the illumination of the lightning, this man calmly donned a white bone mask.

He would never forget that feeling of being inspired, awed by that overwhelming power... humbled by its cold ruthlessness.

>

It was precisely this cold, ruthless power that exploded like a bolt of lightning, taking his father away.

Numerous corpses lay before him... each burned beyond recognition.

Never to be forgotten.swordsmanship of Feijian, which has already been eliminated by the times, is a nameless nobody who knows where it came from.He was defeated decisively.Let me know if you have any other text you'd like...